Up... And Running!

And we're off! Rosencratz and Guildenstern Are/Han Muerto is off to the races with two performances down in English and one in Spanish, and it is such a pleasure doing such a fantastic production in a beautiful space like Mary O'Malley Park (seriously it's gorgeous) for such appreciative audiences.

Probably my favorite thing so far have been the reactions from the little kids, usually on blankets in the front row, audibly responding to the events of Act 3, which is also the most violent, action packed and close quartered part of the show. Probably my favorite responses so far have been to the Player's Hamlet reenactment at the end of the show, "the bad guy's went down! yeah!" and then when we get back up for curtain call "they weren't dead!".

My Mom came to the English and Spanish opening, and enjoyed it throughly. She wrote a response to the Spanish opening that reflects her observation of  my ongoing growth as Alfred, and also some of the responses from audience members that make this show so damn satisfying. So here's a guest post. And if you haven't yet, come see this show! Boston Globe article, yeah!

From my Mom: "Even though they lost their place a couple of times in the long, complex back-and-forth, those guys were great!

I watched several passers-by get hooked on the coin-toss bit, sit down, and constitute themselves into an audience.  Stray kids got drawn in by the physicality of the coin tosses and reactions.  I got the sense everybody was on board for the intellectual hijinks, and several lone men, in the clothes of immigrant workingmen, showed distinctly high-brow responses to the philosophical jokes. By the time the Tragedians appeared, they were already hooked; the burst of costumes and instruments was a shower of amazement after amazement.

I think many of the people I'd seen hanging around the edges Wednesday actually were forming the intention of coming back last night, for the Spanish language production.  I didn't count the audience, but I think it will grow.

Alfred was even better than the first production.  The portrayal of the emotionally intense but fickle queen is hysterical, and is enveloped in a meta-portrayal of portrayal itself, as a creative act of the character you're actually portraying.  Alfred's unshielded empathy for Ophelia elevates that whole scene, and focuses his whole forceful stage presence right onto her crumpled form, like an emotional spotlight.  Crushed and hurt beyond human reason, she shines.  Bravo; brava."