“We have 10 weeks to figure it out.”
My go-to response since rehearsals for Hairspray began on the first day of winter quarter. I’ve been guilty of jumping onto the “this-process-is-way-too-long-and-I-could-finish-three-shows-in-this-time” bandwagon in the past. There have been times where being on the management side of the annual musical has provided me weeks of ease. Sure, there were meetings, deadlines, committees to communicate with, endless areas to organize before build, tech, and showtime. But something about being able to step away from the rehearsal room always kept me somewhat grounded.
Directing this year is a whole other experience. It’s exciting, terrifying, exhausting, challenging, rewarding. It’s every emotion I’ve had in the past 3 years of Muir Musical — and there has been a LOT of emotions — times a million. The great moments are GREAT. Seeing my Tracy and Penny dance together for the first time? Priceless. Watching my choreographer translate my fluffy visions and mood boards and tiny moments of inspiration into a crisp, dynamic, monster of an opening number? LIFE CHANGING. Those are the rehearsals that leave me feeling amazed, by the people I get to collaborate with, the work we are doing, and the dedication of every single person in the room. There’s an energy there that is indescribable.
But the moments that have been difficult to navigate are another story: feeling my priorities shift and compete with one another as I look to graduation, remain a full time student, sister, daughter, roommate? Struggling to carve time to do my dishes or relax? Feeling like my brain is always focused on the show but simultaneously never thinking hard enough or being creative/witty/funny/innovative/artistic enough? I’ve been face to face with challenges that I wish I could have expected but simply could not have known until I walked through it myself.
It’s Week 5. We are in good shape. Our cast is adorable, hard working, and enthusiastic. My favorite part of rehearsal is daily check-ins. I like to make them reflect on their day, even if it’s just to figure out what everyone’s favorite meal of the day was. I’ve also found how helpful it is to check the mood of the room — we’ve reached midterm season and it’s not slowing down for a few more weeks. The quarter system and art making is an interesting mix. Hectic and breezy and busy and stressful and fun. We’re all going through it and as each rehearsal nears the end of the night, I think about how we’ll all go home to finish our essays, study for midterms, try to get enough sleep, and then do it all over again.
In spite of it all, there is something so special about the fact that everyone in the room, night after night, has committed to 4 hours to be in their bodies, creating something greater than ourselves. My heart is full.
Safe to say: 10 weeks feels like forever. But also, not nearly enough.