I function well on 10 hours a night. After a big push, I can sleep for days. I had been going for five intense years, teaching myself how to direct theatre, living in an endless internal chant of, "No, no, no, no, that's not good enough, that's not right, that's not it." When Bart said, "You are now ready to direct Chekhov on the regional stage," I went home and slept for three days.
Same thing at the Odin -- there was so much to digest, so much transformation, that one of my main sensations was of living 5 feet away from Eugenio... and being too tired to talk to him. That's Chekhov. Lopakhin, oversleeping in his proud yellow boots, instead of meeting Ranevskaya's train.
Saturday, August 28, 2004
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment