Thinking less, feeling more

Empowered. That is the best word I can think of to describe how I feel right now.

The last few weeks have been enlightening as we continue on the path of developing this brand-new musical, “Allegiance.” We started off the process with a new script and a few new songs. Now, three weeks into rehearsals, our entire first act has been largely rewritten, the songs rearranged and our staging rethought.

As I had mentioned previously, I’d given up on highlighting (however, I went back to this practice for pragmatic reasons; it’s just easier to find my lines of dialogue and music when enveloped by fluorescent yellow stripes) and memorizing. That said, there are some pockets of scene work that are etched nicely into the ol’ noodle as well as bits and pieces of music.

Throughout the last few weeks, things have been changing so quickly. Although Chris Gattelli staged a lot of the musical numbers before his departure for London, his associate Tara Wilkinson had to rethink a few things here and there, depending on what was most appropriate for each scene.

The rewrites have been going on almost daily, sometimes more than twice daily. A word here, a line there, some tightening and consolidating. With new script pages in hand, we get up and figure things out.

At times though, even a new set of pages will not be enough to get us up on our feet. One morning, a discussion about a particular scene took place that challenged the current draft, as well as logic. That discussion lasted about 15-20 minutes, and led into a full-blown rewrite that we got the following day.

After that, I asked myself, “Wow, did we really do that?”

I don’t ever remember taking full advantage of such opportunities on shows that I’ve worked on previously. Sure, maybe they were always there, but I guess I just didn’t trust my intuition and instincts enough yet. My head would always be in the realm of overthinking—to the point that I was casting doubt on choices I was making in scenes and in the interpretation of songs. I felt like I had no idea what I was doing. It was only when I got older and lived more of life that I started thinking less and feeling more. I’m not saying I’ve got it all down, but I’m hoping that I’ve gotten better at it.

Everyone has a say

At this particular stage, everyone has a say, whether it’s in the dialogue, how a scene flows, what feels natural or organic, what bit of choreography works (or doesn’t), how to heighten an already tense situation, and even if, or when, a song will pay off.

Conversations between two actors will range from, “Yeah, that felt so much better,” to “I’m having a tough time making this work.” There is an almost permanent furrow on more than just a few brows: whether on Jay Kuo’s as he hunkers over his computer revising the script or a set of lyrics; on Melanie Lockyer’s as she transfers old notes from a previous script to a brand-new page; on Stafford Arima’s as he talks to actors trying to make sense of a moment or a line read; on Lynne Shankel’s as she works through a brand new arrangement; or on Telly Leung’s as he navigates through yet another version of his Act I finale.

But everyone in this collective knows that everyone has a say, and is able to influence even the smallest thing in the show.

Zenaida Amador drilled this thought over and over again in the heads of the many actors who have walked through Repertory Philippines’ halls: “No one is indispensable.” That thought rang in my head when the “Sky Flakes and cat food” controversy hit the news, driving home the point that actors, as a commodity, are pretty much the bottom of the food chain (pun intended).

Imagine the thrill

We are subdivided by archetype—the poor heroine, the rich, well-educated b*tch, the handsome but strapped-for-cash leading man, the less-than-handsome sidekick—and can easily be swapped out if one of us throws a tantrum, or is perceived as “difficult.” It pains me to think that our efforts, with all the passion, fury and fervor that we do possess, can be summarily dismissed or not seen as valuable.

So imagine the thrill that an idea you had actually makes it into the script… that the joke you cracked while learning choreography finds its way into your dance number… that an unrelated conversation, gesture or remark influences someone from the creative team to change something.

Of course, it also helps that our creative team is something of a miracle, as it is a group that is open to change, and humbled by the powers of the universe surrounding them.

By the time you read this, we’ll be deep in Act II, repeating the process until we get things right (well, as right as we can make it for the workshop at the end of the month). I’ll have a furrow on my brow and highlighter in my hand, as this amazing group of people continues to navigate this piece, together.

Awww yeah, baby, we all feel pretty darn powerful.