We are 9 days away from opening night, people. Pretty soon, we’ll be out of the rehearsal hall and on stage. But not before I got some snapshots…
Suck it, Edgardo! Lucia is mine now–and we have the marriage certificate to prove it. (The empty champagne glasses, too.)
Honestly, I’m not sure if all these umbrellas are props or if it’s just because it’s Cleveland in the springtime.
Bloody hell! They make me do all the dirty work.
They’re not bored stage managers! They’re somber stage managers! (Who says backstage crew can’t act?)
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Blog
Going Underground
Thankfully it had nothing to do with entering the witness protection program and everything to do with visiting our wardrobe department. They are comfortably ensconced in the basement of the theater, basking in the fluorescent effulgence glinting off beige cinder block walls. Ah, the glamor of costuming.
Pop quiz: What is in the above photo?
A. Hair bound to be stuffed into pantyhose sausages and sent to the Gulf to soak up oil
B. A Pantene commercial gone horribly wrong
C. Wigs for Lucia
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