I left the dress rehearsal last night with the inkling to call my family, who are making a special trip to the Playhouse to see Men in Hats, and tell them not to bother; part of the production was totally a flop: the mannequin/men were more often than not, out of synch, stiff, little rhythm, and most of all, not knowing the choreography. There were the couple of professional dancers in the group of seven who were basically on point. Courtney Jankovic, ballerina, who played the hat fairy was superb. The majority of the guys, including myself, were mini disasters. “You guys were stiff,” my friend Dee told me after the rehearsal. I was bewildered. But really folks, you have to know the complete story. You see, I am no professional dancer, but I have danced much of my life. I started dancing in college, taking ballet, modern and jazz. My instructors were always telling me I was natural. I thought at that time changing my engineering major to dance would not be practical, being 5’5″ for a male dancer had many limitations. I love to dance. I do have stage experience, but have not been on one in over 10 years. I acted in my play, Water is We, written in 1994 and toured briefly. I don’t think I was ever a ham, and the stage always stir angst but there is some appeal to being on stage, I just have not pin pointed it. I remember in 1986, while living in the Bay Area, I worked and lived in the Alice Club; it was an artist community in downtown Oakland. I had an interesting life in Oakland; I worked as newsroom assistant at the Oakland Tribune which was owned at the time by Bob Maynard, one of the few African American publishers of a major newspaper in the country. Hell, he might have been the only one. He was an interestingly distinquished man; watching him as he strolled through the newsroom was a treat. I just am realizing that I am a little chatter box/rambling man today. Hey, its flowing. I say all that to get back to the point of the Alice Club. Housed in the Club was a small community theater. I think it was called the Alice Club theater. That was my first contact with the theater; I was a stage hand. My partner at the time, Bernard was a serious tech geek; he was a world traveler, hired by a New York based theater company. He was in Oakland for a bit and worked for the theater. I remember we were on stage doing something with the set and I told him how I like being in this space and enjoy working behind the scenes. Bernard quickly snapped back, “No Ron, you really want to be front and center”. I thought about his comment, but don’t remember if I responded. Is this going to be realized 25 years later?
Lisa K. Lock, made a 911 visit to give me a concentrated session, after drilling me over and over. 1,2,3,4,5,6, 7,8…. I can still hear in my mind’s eye the counting countless times the choreography that she intended. “Ron, you are one of the key men in the line; if you’re off, the entire line will suffer,” remarked Lisa. She sat there in the chair, hand over her eyes clinching her temples, in effort to relieve her throbbing headache. To look at Lisa’s eyes and her strong disposition in instruction, I am discovering her genius more and more.
My sax solo went ok I think. I came on stage too late and started with a weak b. But I got stronger as I played. In looking over the tapes from last night’s rehearsal, there was one point when the momentum had stopped and Lisa was engaging with the tech staff of audio problems, I just kept on playing. Lisa then politely gave me the cut gesture.
I feel more confident now that we had our session with hopes I will be ready for the performance on Saturday. I feel great about it now, for I am doing what I really always wanted to do: play and perform in front of an audience. As long as I have been playing the saxophone, playing in “Men in Hats” will be my first time playing before an audience of this magnitude, 300. I think I’m ready. I think I’m ready. I know I’m ready Damnit!!
www.reshats.com
