The Private Ear/The Public Eye.
Week 1
REHEARSALS OFF THE WALWORTH ROAD
Hello and welcome to the first blog for The Private Ear/The Public Eye. Two superb plays by the award winning writer Sir Peter Shaffer.
Directed by the legendary Alastair Whatley. Some said he was only folklore, a myth, a tale told to actors to give them dreams of working with The Original Theatre Company. However, I can confirm - HE EXISTS and he is on a mission to make these two plays stunning.
I am your blogger for the next 12 weeks, Mr Charlie Hotson.
So, let us get started. Firstly I shall introduce you to these wonderful plays.
The Private Ear and The Public Eye are intimate one-act plays – both short and bitter-sweet comedies performed as a matching pair. They give the audience a fascinating window into the turbulent changing attitudes to love in the 1960s through a combination of comedy, pathos and drama.
The Private Ear is set in a London bedsit, where Bob (Steven Blakeley), normally used to giving his full attention to his record collection, calls in a favour from Ted (Rupert Hill), his slick, confident friend, to help him treat his date, the beautiful but shy Doreen (Siobhan O'Kelly), to a slap up meal.
The Public Eye takes place in a swanky London accountancy office, where uptight Charles (Jasper Britton), is confronted by Julian (Steven Blakeley), an eccentric private detective hired by Charles to investigate Belinda, his young wife, whom he suspects of infidelity.
Now, I Charlie Hotson, am understudy for Mr Steven Blakeley (Bob in The Private Ear and Julian Cristoforou in The Public Eye) and Mr Rupert Hill (Ted in The Private Ear).
That is correct, I am understudying 3 roles. For those of you new to the term understudy, I am the chap who steps in if one of these fine actors has a show off. If both actors are off, you shall see an evening of one man having a 12 page conversation with himself. Possibly using the 'half-costume' concept a la Tommy Cooper. Watch this space!
So - my job is effectively like learning a novel, a novel which is full of every emotion under the sun, and then you add extremely intricate movement to it with all the props ever made. Without actually doing it! I can only imagine there are prop stores all over London with nothing left but a lamp. Which we will probably get our hands on in the end. Everything we have is perfect for the era, from Ski Yoghurt to Bakerlite telephone, stereo to posters. The set will be amazing. When it all arrives! (I must point out the Ski Yoghurt is not 43 years old. One could only presume a 43 year old yoghurt would have its own legs and mind. Also if Steven were to eat one spoonful I would be on immediately for the rest of the show!)
(Our 'airy' rehearsal room)
(FYI: That is Chrissie reading the paper)
This is actually week 3 of rehearsals. Siobhan, Steven, Rupert and Jasper (Who thought he had heard the last of his monumental burp in todays rehearsal) have been working tirelessly on the plays for the last two weeks. It shows. Their performances are fantastic. The pace, the energy, the characters, the lives you watch unfold in front of you are in super shape.
I must point out that as understudy it is a bizarre concept learning all your characters choices, past history, intentions, life, in a 2 hour chat as a result of their 2 intense weeks.
It's handed to myself, Esther and Zac, my fellow understudies. Which is weird and strangely un gratifying, not being able to explore the roles ourselves. On the other hand, it's effectively being told that someone has done your job, will do your job, but if there is a problem, just copy what they've been doing. Easy? NO!
(Zac and Lauren having a fag break. Zac is a bearded giant. Lauren is camera shy)
Sitting in rehearsals and watching everyone is great, the lines and moves start to sink in. The intentions become clearer and it all forms a wonderful shape in ones mind. However, due to having to watch someone intensely to form your own muscle memory and imposed thoughts, when it comes to reading through the plays, everything disappears. How can I explain? Well, I would say I know that the Bolshevik Revolution involved Bolsheviks and there was a Revolution but the other details are vague. They were Russian? Trotsky was involved? (You didn't think you'd read a comparison like that today!) I can tell you the titles of the plays and what happens, but some of the dialogue in between has a tendency to depart from the brain into the aether, maybe returning, like a very slow boomerang, (Another comparison there!) or never seen again, like man on the moon. Did the lines ever really exist . . . ? Tune in for week 12 blog when we shall discuss moon landing conspiracy theories.
This is me. Again. On my chair. Again.
The rehearsal room is hotter than the sun, with no windows and a constant hum of two fans whirring, with an air conditioning unit trying desperately to make a difference, is heard for 6 hours. This is coupled with the fluorescent tube lighting! It's glare and light is sort of unearthly! Its clinical to say the least. After a few days, the airless hospital waiting room starts to take its toll, I begin to feel myself lapsing into unconsciousness, not falling asleep, but disappearing for 10 seconds or so. Where my mind went I will never know but, I hope it had fun. The light and the white pages have a weird affect on my eyes, they merge with the page, the black writing floating towards them like a wordy magic eye. However, in stark contrast to the room of no soul, the action occurring before me is beautiful. Our leads work full pelt, exploring every nuance, adding layer upon layer. Creating two plays which really are full of humour and sadness. Sat watching the end of The Private Ear was really something, silence fell upon us and there was a pause of a few seconds, letting what we had seen sink in. Then, Mr Whatley steps in, 'lovely - ok let's go from . . '
The actors and director are constantly exploring and are truly bringing these beautiful wordy Shaffer plays to life.
You are in for a treat.
