Oct 9, 2006
As of 6:15 on Monday, 2 October, I haven't had any responses to my e-mails, not even a note of, "Gosh, Edward, so sorry we didn't get back to you." (In fact, since rehearsal has begun nobody has mentioned those e-mails at all.) More perplexing is that rehearsal is ostensibly beginning in 45 minutes and I have no idea where we're rehearsing.
I'd spent the day exploring Idaho Falls a little more, looking in at the local Chamber of Commerce and learning that there's an entire mountain full of Opals here in Idaho. The lady behind the counter was taken aback when I asked if she know of any good coffeehouses. She stumblepaused and said, " ... Coffeehouses? Well, yes, I'm sure ... here, let's see ..." Producing a local eateries pamphlet, she showed me the list of potential coffee places and reads the the names, pointing syllable by syllable. "Vil-la Cof-fee-house ... Jack Mor-mon's Steam-y Brews-N'-Smokes ... Hot Wa-ter Strained Through Gran-ny Pan-ties ..." I took the pamphlet and went in search of Villa Coffeehouse.
After a day spent drinking coffee and studying my lines I was ready to jump in to rehearsals. I like to arrive at least a half hour early, if not more. And by 6:17 I had accepted the fact that they were not going to contact me with any information about rehearsal. I was the pretty-pretty-princess, expecting special treatment and such. So I called the SM and said, "Hi there, Ginger, this is Edward Hightower."
"Oh. Are you in town?"
"Yes."
"... Great! So what can I help you with?"
"Well, I'd love to come to rehearsal tonight."
"Do you need a ride? Because I'm still at work and I have to go to the store before I go to rehearsal, but I could have someone come pick you up maybe. Actually, I'm just leaving work now. Do you need a ride?"
"No, I'd just like to know where rehearsal is."
"Oh! Do you have a driver, are you taking a taxi?"
"No, I have a car."
"You drove here?"
"Yes."
"Wow."
"I like the desert."
"I'll bet."
"So rehearsal is ..."
"Oh! It's at Jefferson Montessori in Ammon."
This was the moment when I thought my senses or cell service had departed me. "I'm sorry, where?"
"Jefferson Montessori. Where are you?"
"I'm in the parking lot of the Red Lion Hotel."
"Where is that?"
The Red Lion Hotel, at about six storeys, is the tallest secular building in Idaho Falls. It's right next to the river. Pretty visible. I wanted to ask if she lived around here, but things were strange enough. "It's near the river, downtown, off Broadway."
"Okay ... um ... I'm not good with directions. You're going to take Broadway to Yellowstone ... do you know where that is?"
"Yes."
"Okay, you're going to take Yellowstone North, so you'll be turning left. I think. Left, right, yeah, it's left. So you're going to pass Les Schwab and a barbecue place on the left and then you're going under an overpass and you take the first right and that's First Street. No, I'm sorry, the second right is First Street. And you're going to take First all the way down, couple miles, you're gonna cross a little bridge but right before that you'll know you're going the right direction when you pass an Arctic Circle on your left and a gas station on your right. The school's across from a Baptist church, it's on the right and there's another school next to it that has a billboard."
"I'll pass an Arctic Circle?"
"Yes."
"Aren't those all melting?"
" ... What?"
"Nothing. What's the name of the school again?"
"Jefferson Montessori."
"Jefferson?"
"Yes."
"Okay, well, I'll see you there."
"Okay, well, I have to go to the store and get some stuff, so I'll be there soon. And just call me if you get lost and I'll rope you in."
"Too late, Ginger."
"What? Why?"
"Nothing, I'll see you there."
So I follow her directions and there's no Jefferson Montessori. Everything else is exactly as she reported. But the name of the school is Snake River Montessori. I pull into the lot and I'm sitting there and it's raining. I call her just as a PT Cruiser is pulling into the lot. I think, 'I'll bet that's her.'
"Hey Ginger, it's Edward. Just wanted to check the name of the school ..."
"Jefferson Montessori. Where are you?"
"I'm at Snake River Montessori."
"Oh is that you in the little white car?"
I wave, she waves.
"Yes it is."
"Hi! Come on in! I'll just get the door open."
I pull the car around and park closer to the building, as it's now pouring rain. Ginger gets out of her car and heads toward the building. No umbrella. I'm putting my stuff into my backpack and another car pulls up. A jolly lady with white hair gets out. She sees my car and waves, walks over. I open the door.
"Hi! Are you Edward? I'm Valeen!"
"Hi there. Yes I am. Pleased to meet you."
"Welcome to Idaho Falls!" She gestures at the leaden skies and the torrential downpour. No umbrella for Valeen. "Come on inside and we'll have a chat."
"I'll just get my stuff."
"Okay! See you in there!"
Once I'm inside, Valeen invites me to have a seat. She says, "Just so you know what's going on, here: there's been some uproar because we're changing the way we do things. Part of that is having you here. Also, our Bill and Nancy aren't from Idaho Falls, but you're our big-ticket item for the production. A lot of people aren't happy about this but not so much the Fagin role because not so many people here thought they could play that part. But that's what's going on here: a lot of change and some anxiety over it, but we're going forward and we'll make the best of it."
I murmur something about change and resistance and change and art and she smilingly agrees. Then she says, "One other thing: our Oliver. He's got the look, he's got the voice -- when he chooses to sing -- but he's just not an actor."
I'm beginning to think that's a tradition with this show. The kid who played Oliver at PCPA had this goofy, complacent smile the whole time. Aside from the time he cried during a music rehearsal when Jonathan Swoboda raised his voice, I never saw that Oliver change his expression. Until I talked to him during Tech and suggested he think about what he would do if a scary man broke into his house, tied a rope to him and dragged him across the rooftops, threatening murder and worse. After that, he did some things. And he began to do more when he saw his understudy (a girl) astound us with her performance during the understudy rehearsal.
I relate this story briefly to Valeen. She says, "Oh good. You go ahead and do anything you can to get our Oliver to act. That would be wonderful."
I consider prodding him with a javelin and wonder if there's a used sporting goods store in town.
Rehearsal starts at 7:00. By 7:05 there are maybe four people in the room. Valeen introduces me to everyone. By 7:20 the room is full of screaming kids and talking adults. We have yet to begin rehearsing. I am still being introduced. By 7:45 I begin to want to die or cry or drink or all three.
Then we start to rehearse.
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