A look behind the scenes at A Midsummer Night’s Dream with Puppet Designer Basil Twist and Fairy/Acrobat Tatyana Petruk.

Each week, The Artist’s Journey will provide an insider look at the creation of a production, from first rehearsal to opening night, through the eyes of one of the show’s key players.

Anthony Luciano is an M.F.A. Directing student in the UCSD graduate theatre program and is Assistant Director on A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Anthony Luciano

We recently had our first preview—holy moly. A couple little things here and there, but mostly we had a great first view!

For previews, we show the play at night and then rehearse fixes and trouble spots during the day for four hours. It’s a funny time: you really have to race through from one thing to the next, and sometimes there’ll be many things happening at the same time (yesterday we had the orchestra rehearsing offstage, while we were rehearsing a completely different scene onstage—oy). A typical preview day for me, as the Assistant, works like this: Chris gives notes to the actors for the first hour (Hannah, the second Assistant Director, takes notes on Chris’ notes), while I try and catch up on paperwork. Hannah comes in with a work list that came out of the note session with the actors. We scramble around and update the work list from the previous night to include the things from today. Chris begins working. Once the new list is ready we take the old list away and give him the new one. Hannah gets him coffee, I follow him around. Chris remains calm. I get tense. We take a ten, I get a cup of coffee. Somehow he hits all the work notes. We take a two hour break for the most of which I pace around pretending to do something. We reconvene. The play begins. Chris is calm, Hannah is calm, I pretend to be calm. Chris gives actor notes to me, tech notes to Hannah. After the play we have a production meeting; I compile a work list on my iPhone; I email the work list; I go home. Begin again.

Oh, and I am sleeping late. Alarm goes off at one time, I’m actually up an hour later. I’ve never had so restful a preview period: I usually get four hours of sleep if I’m lucky. Something right must be happening around here….

“We are to utter sweet breath; and I do not doubt but to hear them say, it is a sweet comedy!”

Joe Manganiello

Joe Manganiello, who appeared in our West Coast premiere of Unusual Acts of Devotion last season, is making quite a splash as the new werewolf construction worker Alcide on HBO’s hit series True Blood. Also recently featured on the show was J. Smith-Cameron, who is currently costarring in our production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream as the lovelorn Helena.

The Russian Revolution meets the Outback! The Playhouse’s world premiere Zhivago, which was a Page To Stage Workshop Production in 2004 and a season production in 2005, is headed to Australia in February. Artistic Director Emeritus Des McAnuff is taking the musical epic (now called Doctor Zhivago) to Lyric Theatre, Star City before a full tour of the continent.

Stark Sands, who played one half of the infamous title duo in Bonnie & Clyde last year, and who currently appears on Broadway in American Idiot, will hit the silver screen next year. The Miraculous Year, about a self-destructive Broadway composer, will feature a cast of Broadway luminaries, including Patti LuPone, Frank Langella and Hope Davis, and music by Tony winner Adam Guettel. Meanwhile, Bonnie & Clyde will kick off the new season at Asolo Rep in Florida in November.

Speaking of Broadway, Alex Timbers and Michael Friedman are headed to the Great White Way with their smash hit musical Bloody, Bloody Andrew Jackson. Alex directed both Peter and the Starcatchers and HOOVER COMES ALIVE! here in 2009, and Michael composed HOOVER. And no discussion of Broadway would be complete without Memphis and Jersey Boys, which are still going strong in New York. In addition, the Memphis national tour launches next year, and there are six Jersey Boys companies currently playing around the world. Remember: San Diego audiences saw them first, so be sure to catch theatre’s next big thing right here at the Playhouse!

Each week, The Artist’s Journey will provide an insider look at the creation of a production, from first rehearsal to opening night, through the eyes of one of the show’s key players.

Anthony Luciano is an M.F.A. Directing student in the UCSD graduate theatre program and is Assistant Director on A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Anthony Luciano

We are officially in tech rehearsals. I know this because I have been snacking all day, every day since first ringing into the theatre on Friday. I pack an absurd amount of food, eat it all and still attack all of the other snacks on all the tables. And I drink a lot of coffee.

And I crave sweets all the time. I crave sweets all the time anyway, but now I NEED them. Officially my pants are tight. We are most definitely in tech.

And the play looks beautiful. Pretty damn beautiful.

So we’re making our first pass at the thing now, learning what is possible and not possible and reworking and pushing forward. Not everything is finished yet—this is totally normal—so we’ll go back and check some of this stuff out in the second pass. We’re learning how to activate the space; where the fairies are best to hang out; what we can and can’t do with huge beautiful dresses. Happily the play is holding up really well in the theatre—like I thought it would in the last blog—and the tech is going pretty smoothly. We’ll sometimes move through a few pages in an hour, and then hold for hours at a transition: again, totally normal. But what is really cool is how fast it is actually going: we’re already midway through the second act of our production in only three days! We’ll be spending time with the quintet again this week, and the orchestra comes and visits us again soon!

The question that I have is this: will we hit a dead standstill during the play-within-a-play (which is pretty darn funny right now) or will we blow through it? I think we’ll blow through it, but I like it so much I wouldn’t mind living in it a little while.

We’re all getting a little tired, but strangely it feels—for the moment—pretty relaxed for tech…. Sounds too good to be true. I’ll let you know next week!

Some of y’all will be seeing the play soon! Can’t wait to meet y’all at previews!

“Farwell [my lovely] spirits I’ll be gone! Our queen and all her elves come here anon!”

Each week, The Artist’s Journey will provide an insider look at the creation of a production, from first rehearsal to opening night, through the eyes of one of the show’s key players.

Anthony Luciano is an M.F.A. Directing student in the UCSD graduate theatre program and is Assistant Director on A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Anthony Luciano

Wait, we go into tech this week? When did that happen?

We had our first run-through for the whole creative team this weekend and the play has grown immensely since our last look at the Whole Thing. We’ve polished out some of the rough spots, and the play is really beginning to emerge. This week we have our first rehearsal with the Quintet followed by our first cue-to-cue with the Orchestra! The walls are up, the floor has begun to be painted and slowly we’re beginning the lurch from our rehearsal room to the Big Bad Potiker. Despite the abso-super-bigness of the production, I am strangely unconcerned about tech. I know this has a great deal to do with the many super-capable hands involved (Chris Ashley and the creative team; our Stage Management team; Chris Borreson—who has been the most amazing Technical Director I’ve ever worked with—and the amazing shops), but I can’t help but wonder if I should be a little nervous, or wary of transferring the play into the theatre. Like, if something were to happen, this would be when it would, but I’m just totally not concerned. I’m actually looking forward to it!

Though, truth be told, I have a strange masochistic love of technicals. I like the long hours, the super strain, the eating bad food (donuts anyone?) and the seeing of all the stuff. I like entering into this new phase where we see if what was happening in the room actually makes sense on stage, and then moving around what does and does not. There is always the fear that the play will be somewhat lost once it transfers into the theatre: sometimes you build something beautiful and elegant in rehearsal and it is vapid and tiny in the theatre, but for this one I think we’ll really begin to see the play once we’re in the space. I’m betting there will be some restaging (we’re gonna learn a lot about the production once we see how our silks work on stage vs. in the rehearsal room) and maybe even some rethinking about some of the scenes (I have no idea which ones, or how—right now everything is playing pretty beautifully), but this is all part of the process. Unlike others where you sometimes have to fight to make the play fit in the theatre, I think this production will really begin to sing when we get into the Potiker. The next step is making sure we’re all in harmony.

Chris Reed had us all over to his house on July 4th for a cookout—I think the first all-company event outside of the Playhouse—and it was GREAT! Always good when a company starts hanging out before the play opens: usually a signal that the play is moving forward in the right way. And a company that likes to spend time together is a company that likes playing together. Sometimes the best work happens at the bar (or—as it turns out—at Chris’ place).

Onwards!

“I never heard so musical a discord, such sweet thunder.”

10 – Shakespeare productions that have now been mounted at La Jolla Playhouse. This production is also the second time Midsummer has been produced. The first time was in 1995 and starred Malcolm Jamal-Warner as Lysander, the handsome Athenian in love with Hermia.

414 – Years since the play was first performed in England in 1596. There is some debate, however, whether is was first performed in 1596 for aristocratic weddings, or whether it was written for the Queen’s feast day celebration of St. John two years earlier.

25 – Cast members in the show (including three acrobats on the ground and in the air). This doesn’t even count the onstage orchestra, which is an integral part of this production.

2.5 – Minutes that actress Charlayne Woodard has to change costumes and hair from Hippolyta to Titania before needing to be back on stage. Talk about a quick change!

1,400 – Square feet of the Midsummer set (an impressive number even by Playhouse standards). Add 700 square feet onto that if you count the backstage area.

2,670 – Man-hours spent building the costumes for the production. This doesn’t even include time spent renting costumes, performing alterations, doing fittings and keeping them clean and in repair.

14 – Days until previews of the show begin in the Sheila and Hughes Potiker Theatre, which start on July 20.

31 – Starting price of tickets to A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Get them while they last! Call the Box Office at (858) 550-1010, or hop over here

We’ll see you there!

Each week, The Artist’s Journey will provide an insider look at the creation of a production, from first rehearsal to opening night, through the eyes of one of the show’s key players.

Zoë Chao is an actress in the UCSD graduate theatre program and is co-starring in Surf Report. This is her first professional production.

Zoë Chao

This is my final blog for the Playhouse and I’m going to continue to be honest with you – several teardrops have fallen onto my laptop keyboard. Not quite the equivalent of a glass of water yet, but nearing. I probably should turn my computer upside down and dry it off if ever I have dreams of blogging again. Here is a review of this past week’s ponderings and adventures.

I managed to fall victim to strep throat, which made me post the question, “Really?” It did not, however, hold me back from enjoying Surf Report’s opening night party, equipped with open bar, surf board regalia, music and dancing.

Doing a five-show weekend is exhausting! And the chance to work on a play that runs longer than just eight performances brings up a whole new gauntlet of challenges. I liken this less extreme experience to the Rolling Stones playing “No Satisfaction” live for the 15,786,223rd time as if they had never played it before.

There were several performances in which some of the audience members located near the stage actually talked to me while I was performing. That has never happened to me before. My favorite feedback was, “I know exactly who you are,” whispered audibly by an elderly woman stage right, wearing a white t-shirt with gold anchors on it. I had to steal a peak.

It’s bizarre to me that the whole design team and director leave the show after the official opening. And it’s entirely up to the stage management, actors and crew to keep the show going. No more notes or feedback? WHERE WAS THE WEANING PROCESS? Did I happen to miss it? It’s a scary freedom, critical to the whole process – a play needs the ability to finally be turned over to the actors, to let it breathe and play – but still, all of this is new to me. The learning curve is steep. As long as I have some Gatorade by me, it’s manageable.

Thank you La Jolla Playhouse, Lisa, Annie and the Surf Report cast and crew for an unforgettable foray into the professional theatre world. I’m hooked now more than ever. Come see SURF REPORT before we close on July 11!

Please go see Christopher Ashley’s A Midsummer Nights Dream! My lovely classmates of 2011 are tearing it up. There is sure to be swinging, rolling, waxing, reeling and loving.

Vive LJP!

Each week, The Artist’s Journey will provide an insider look at the creation of a production, from first rehearsal to opening night, through the eyes of one of the show’s key players.

Anthony Luciano is an M.F.A. Directing student in the UCSD graduate theatre program and is Assistant Director on A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Anthony Luciano

We have finished staging the first draft of the play. Yup, round one, in the can.

We’ve revisited many scenes several times; we’ve opted to use another of our acrobatic silks in an unexpected place (one we weren’t sure if we were going to use at all); and we’ve written and refined some rules of the world. We’ve got a few things we still need to figure out (little things like “How does this chair get here?” or “Are we still thinking of using this cool thing?”), but mostly now I think we’ve got a big ol’ thing and I’m guessing we’re gonna start making some tweaks and trying to see what it is we’ve made.

AND we’ve got a full orchestra that’s beginning to show up as our day is ending—that’s amazing. We’re going to spend some time with them in just over a week I think.

AND we’re going to begin our understudy rehearsals this week. Which is totally terrifying to me (it’s a big part of my job). The first chunk is going to be easy: book work and making sure everybody knows what they’re saying—no problem (I mean, I think I know what everybody’s saying). The staging is where it gets a little scary: like, do I know where everybody goes? Do I know what it is that we have made? Holy Moly I hope so. I certainly have made enough charts; I hope I know where everybody is going.

That’s the news from here: a big change from last week. We’ve got a lot of time before we head off to the theatre, and a lot of time to make fixes before we preview, and a lot of time to fix during previews, but it feels like we’ve hit the moment when the real tough work begins: polish and change, jettison and rebuild.

And keep up so when the covers aren’t in the room to see the change, they know the change. Oy.

One bright bit of gossip: one of my fellow Grads—who is doing some pretty heavy understudying—has already advertised himself as a great nurse. He has firmly chosen which side of the understudy divide he is on. The divides usually follow like this: 1) “So when do you take a night off and I go on and make you look bad.” Or, as my friend has chosen, 2) “Don’t you DARE get sick!” And the teasing begins. I’ll keep you updated, but I’m guessing there’s going to be a lot of “Oh wow I am feeling really ILL” or “I think I may have twisted my ankle and can’t go on, you know the lines right?” This may seem like fun and games—and it is, mostly—but it’s also damn terrifying if you’re the understudy.

“This falls out better than I could devise…”

Each week, The Artist’s Journey will provide an insider look at the creation of a production, from first rehearsal to opening night, through the eyes of one of the show’s key players.

Anthony Luciano is an M.F.A. Directing student in the UCSD graduate theatre program and is Assistant Director on A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Anthony Luciano

Unbelievable.

Well we’re in it now. We’ve crossed over; somewhere along this week, as is customary, the beginning has faded and now we’re into the body of the thing. This can be the most fun of it all: everybody’s settled in and together we’re settling in as a company; the play is still somewhat new but known enough for the first pass at things to fade and the remarkable scents to emerge; and not yet at the struggle place where what was once sketched needs shading; or the reckoning where moments once alive are now tired—or belong to an older draft—and must be callously jettisoned like old loves. Nope, none of that: now fun and making scenes and the poking around at what this play might be.

And maybe this is what is so remarkable about being involved in the directing of a play. Ultimately the play leaves the director’s hands, but even in the making of the play there is a series of hand-offs. Though it seems as though every moment is built before stepping into rehearsal, it’s all brand new in rehearsal. And so there is the great moment after the read-through when the tables go away and everyone is on their feet and you know everyone is wondering: What is this play going to be? What are we going to make? Sure there will be acrobats (there are) and silks (there are) and we know the time period (Victorian) and we know the words are written and what they mean, but what is this thing we are making? I mean, does Demetrius love Helena throughout? Uh, I guess we’ll find out on Thursday. But that could change on Saturday. And so it’s impossible to know. There’s a great void in front of everyone with a few shady outcroppings in the distance: Bottom gets a funny face, there are songs, some fighting, people fall in love and then a super funny play and blessing. But how will we all get there? And the only way to know is to run right into it. And do it with a bunch of strangers.

So this is where we are right now, and its kinda totally great. We’ve made it through the first part, dabbled slightly into the second half and that’s where we pick up on Tuesday (Monday is the day off).

Unfortunately no gossip so far. I think that may be the case on this one: I don’t think anybody’s making out with anybody else in the cast. Ah well. I’ll stir up trouble as best I can and report next week. So, “Out of this wood do not desire to go.”

Each week, The Artist’s Journey will provide an insider look at the creation of a production, from first rehearsal to opening night, through the eyes of one of the show’s key players.

Zoë Chao is an actress in the UCSD graduate theatre program and is co-starring in Surf Report. This is her first professional production.

Zoë Chao

The time has come: Audience Time. We are wrapping up our week of previews and…we are still alive. Better than alive. In fact, we have been rejuvenated by generous audiences night after night.

But the nerves still persist. It is sort of impressive how nervous we actors get no matter how many times we perform. I did an hour-long one-woman show that I wrote two years ago and told myself, “If I can get through this, NOTHING will ever be as terrifying.” During that period of time I actually considered sticking my foot out in front of moving traffic with the hopes that it would get broken and then I wouldn’t have to perform my solo show. I never followed through, but that encapsulates the extent of my fear. Fast forward to present day and I’m still Ms. Shaky Hands. Our invited dress rehearsal had me in such a fit of nerves that during one of my first scenes, I pressed the prop phone so hard into my ear to stop the shaking that I actually hurt myself on stage. No better way to be present and available for your scene partner than when you’re totally distracted by your own masochism.

My biggest note after our invited dress was to SLOW DOWN. I guess I appeared to be on crack cocaine at the rate I was going. My lovely voice teacher from UCSD would have been mortified to find out that I forgot to breathe during the entire first act.

But the truth is, after you’ve blanked on a line, rewritten a scene, put a boot on the wrong foot and experienced the set malfunctioning twice, all in front of an audience, you are reminded that there is nothing better than live theatre. That this gets to be my job? I’ve got some bruises from pinching myself so many times. And who better to share my dreams coming true with than my family, who are now in town all the way from Rhode Island! This means my little sister Maia will be looking with hawk-like eyes to see if someone onstage gets their pants stuck in their socks, or has something in their teeth, etc.… But she is the most honest critic I know. And it comes from a knowing place – she brought the house down as Little Red in Into the Woods several years ago. It made me think that maybe she was the actor in the family. Now I am OK with knowing that there can be two actors in one family. She is also a promising filmmaker. We have high hopes that the Chao sisters will be on the cover of Vanity Fair come 2015. We have to hustle.

Annie is giving us rewrites here and there and Lisa is swiftly putting in the changes. The play continues to tighten and focus. It’s the first time I’ve ever experienced previews. Now I can’t imagine a process without it, especially for a new play.

Please come see Annie Weisman’s Surf Report, directed by Lisa Peterson. It’s only 100 minutes long and is jam packed with family turmoil, spray tans and a lot of caustic wit!