The tides of rehearsal

Well.

My goal for today's rehearsal was to build all the transitions in the first half. We ended up only building the prologue, a series of 6 transitions.

So, what happened?

It was a perfect rehearsal. Chekhov's and god's perfect rehearsal.

The actors came in like winds. Alive, soft, taking care of their own costumes and props. An easy organic first hour. An uphill vocal training, followed by a divine lunch. Our heads said, "Make it short, just 10 minutes!" But our bodies and souls were deep in some sweet groove. Erika had made homemade Hungarian cheese bread and lentil salad. Sal brought cherries, strawberries, bananas, and grapes. I kept thinking, "Rehearsal is going very well." Even though my head was screaming about how behind we were on our to-do list for today.

The next time I came in, the actors were standing in a circle doing a rap-style improv game, Boom-Chicka-Boom. Again, a glorious sign -- creation is happening easily. And, it's the RIGHT creation -- a laughy, sexy, playful, releasing kind of energy for our tense drama. One of the best moments of the day. This leads to limbo dancing which leads to Erika walking with her hands behind her back in high yoga-position -- a brilliant discovery you ONLY get out of flow zone, that goes instantly into the play as our final image.

PJ sang, for her Moment of Beauty, in a high quiet voice, the song her dead mother used to sing to her. Another perfect moment; into the play it goes as well. We can do anything when actors are in this state.

Except, apparently, my to-do list.

"Chekhov and god, they wanted their rehearsal," said Leonid once, of a day like this. "I very wanted mine.

You just can't fight the tides. I tried. We swam upstream, floundered our way to an opening. But all the good stuff was flowing downstream, effortlessly, from Chekhov.

The question is: When the gods are giving you a gift, why fight it? (Because I very wanted my rehearsal, dammit.)