Love Letters

 

 

 



After the unfortunate cancellation of "Death and the Maiden," Sam Bass was scrambling to find something they could quickly put up to try and recoup some of the losses incurred.  Much to my delight, they decided to produce "Love Letters," a perennial favourite for fundraisers everywhere. 

I was asked to play Melissa for a nine-performance run.  This made me happy on multiple levels--I had never done the show and always wanted to, it distracted me from the pain of having to cancel "Maiden" (losing a friend in the process), and it made me feel as if my theater was forgiving me for screwing up the show I was trying to direct.  Many thanks to the Sam Bass Board; specifically Lynn Beaver and Frank Benge.

We got a nice review from Broadway World: 

They are all telling me it wasn't my fault that "Maiden" was cancelled.  It might not have been, but it was my responsibility.  Directing is sort of like being the president of a very small country...the buck always stops at the director's desk.  In this case, I got crosswise with a friend and actor, and he walked out of the show, nine days before opening.  As it was a three-character play, the part was much too large to get another person to come in that late; hence the cancellation.

I will carry memories of this one for a long time.

~Sitting at the theater with the Eric Nelson, the set designer for "Maiden," just looking at the beautiful set he had built, and  that we were about to strike without anyone having seen it.  Eric said, "You know...maybe we should leave it for now.  I have a feeling we shouldn't strike it just yet."  I really didn't want to take it all down, so I agreed.  It turned out to be just perfect for "Love Letters."

~We held a "wake" for the set (It really was lovely), which gave us a chance to complain to each other about actors who don't stick with their commitments AND drink the Good Scotch and cheap wine.

~Then, there was the night Lynn had to blow dry her butt before making the obligatory Curtain Speech...she sat in a chair on the back deck after a rain.

So, what threatened to be an absolute disaster turned out to be a lot of fun.

Now I have to start mourning the loss of my friend (who has asked me not to try to contact him, has unfriended and blocked me on Facebook and stopped going anywhere he knows I might be).

Fine.  Not the worst thing that has ever happened to me, Dearly Beloved.  Carry On Regardless, right?