11:11 Theatre

So we’re back again. Back to the drawing board, which for us isn’t a drawing board at all but a rehearsal space. Back to memorizing lines and creating characters. Long hours and late nights. Working hard to make those honest and electric connections on stage with each other. It never gets old. Not one bit.

This time around–a new play called The Syllabus of Errors. Set in and around the academic world of a physics professor at a Massachusetts college.

Leaving rehearsal the first night I was filled with that tingly sensation that creeps in when you know you’re about to embark on another magical, theatrical journey.

But first, there was the not so magical journey home on the T. Funnily enough, beside me stood and sat a group of professors. They got on around the BU area so I’m guessing they teach there. In a span of not even 10 minutes their conversation moved from Stephen Sondheim, to a student who got into every grad program she has applied to so far, to seventeenth century something or other (I didn’t hear what), to the Welch language and being able to speak it. That’s the thing about professors—they’re so worldly and incredibly bright. They seem to know everything about anything. I always used to think it would be awkward if I were a teacher and a student asked me a question that I couldn’t answer. Thankfully, for the sake of my pride and all students everywhere, I am not a teacher. I could not imagine academia being my world. But, more and more throughout the rehearsal process, I’ve been compelled to think about this academic world. Really being in and around it. Trying to feel like a real contender in it and not just an outside observer looking in.

At the start of every rehearsal Brian has us write words on the black board. They can be anything—objects, feelings, people—anything that will help us transform our classroom space in the Tsai Center into the living, breathing, tangible world of the play.

It’s hard for people who don’t participate in the making of theatre to understand how it works. My parents, for one, never seem to get why we need to rehearse so often, as if the show is going to miraculously come together on its own while we all stay home and watch Lost. Well, as silly as it may sound, writing words on a chalk board, discussing the rules of the world within the play, creating and learning the back-stories of our characters, and really getting down to the nitty gritty of our motivations and objectives are all vital things that need to occur before we can just up and open at the BCA on May 2nd. Did I mention we open at the BCA on May 2nd at 8pm?

Rome wasn’t built in a day. Neither was the making of any great play as far as I know. Four and a half weeks though, we can work with. And I guarantee you will be impressed. The journey for us is just beginning. We hope you’ll be along for the ride.

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