September 29 – Day 23: Food, Glorious Food


In a side note to my comments yesterday about my audience, I’ve further been told that one of the things people find interesting about this here blog is all the food I’ve been eating at the restaurants I’ve been going to. With that in mind, I will endeavor to keep describing them.

On to Saturday. We were again doing staggered calls, so I wasn’t called until 1:30. We were back at the Flea in TriBeCa, and since my call was late, I decided to walk to the theatre. It’s just a little less than two miles, and since the weather has apparently decided to stay nice (currently 68 with 63 percent humidity), it felt like a perfect day to do it.

I had my choice of two routes; one would have taken me east on Houston, then south on Broadway, but I opted for the southern route, down Avenue B (which becomes Clinton on the other side of Houston) to E. Broadway, then Worth to Broadway. It promised to be a more interesting route, and (as I learned) since it went right through Chinatown, it was. While the sidewalks are narrow and crowded with shoppers and smokers, the buildings and views are all things you can’t get anywhere else in Manhattan.

 
 
I mean, seriously; I turn a corner and see this?

Since the theatre was freezing cold the last time we were there, I brought a jacket (which added another few pounds and some bulk to my backpack), but when I got there, the temperature was quite pleasant, and I didn’t need a jacket after all.

Most of the rehearsal focused again on ensemble stuff, most notably what we’ll call the “cuckoo clock” sequence, which gives the play its central metaphor. I won’t spoil it for anyone who’s coming to see the show, but it’s probably easy enough to find the original text online. Regardless, when we did the show the first time, it was a sequence that was originally reasonably elaborate, with lots of stylized movement. As we went on, the movement got less and less (whether that was due to it just not working or our own inability to pull it off, I cannot say), to the point where we basically all just stood there and let the lighting and projections do the heavy lifting.

 "There is a cuckoo clock in Hell ... "

Last Sunday, I described the long session we had blocking another new version of the section that finally seemed to be coming together at the end. Well, today, we pared a lot of that movement down to the basics, and I expect it’ll change even more when we get into our real space on Tuesday. (Even as I write this, I’m thinking of Brian remarking while we were putting it together that I’d probably be blogging about it later tonight. How right he was.) I don’t think it’ll be as static as the San Francisco version, but I do think it won’t be exactly like what we did today.

The biggest problem we’re dealing with right now is that we still haven’t worked in a space that is the same size as what we’re going to have. It’s always “We’ll have two feet more downstage” or “The wall will be at a slightly different angle and go a little farther” or “Is there an exit there?” It’s no one’s fault, but there are times when a director just can’t get a one-to-one match and has to make the corrections they can make only when they’re in the real place. As long as everyone knows those are the circumstances, I think we all make mental adjustments—or, at least, notes—that stay in the back of our heads and tell us “this will change.” The problem at the Flea is the same one from last week; that, in the downstairs space, we have to deal with a permanent set piece of the front of a bodega and a structural brick pillar. The Flea has been marvelous about moving out what they can, but there’s only so much they can do.

We were talking during a break about having people come to see the show, and everyone seems to be in agreement that, even though we have only one official “preview” (this Friday!) before opening, it’ll take us a little while to feel like we really have a handle on it, so I don’t think any of us has anyone coming before the second week. (Pidge isn’t coming until the 13th, our second Saturday.)

We broke at 5:00, and I decided to walk home using the northern Broadway/Houston route, but that proved to be a major mistake, as the sidewalks were even more crowded by people who had apparently told their friends they were shopping in SoHo, but had actually come to stop unexpectedly in the middle of the sidewalk, walk slowly, or wave cigarettes and large shopping bags around.

When I did get home, I was surprised to find a guy sleeping in the vestibule. Given that the vestibule is the approximate size of a phone booth (with a flight of stairs), this was no mean feat. I assume he was sleeping something off, despite the bottle of Coke loosely clutched in his fist, but he seemed harmless. I excused myself around him to get in the door (he was leaning up against it, so I would have had to wake him regardless), then left him there when I entered the apartment.

While I was watching the end of the Dodger game, I decided to do my laundry tonight (rather than Monday), if only to give myself a full day off. I found a new laundromat on 2nd, which I liked a lot. They’re open until midnight and use a card system rather than taking quarters. This means I put money in a machine, got a plastic card with added value, then put that card into the washer or dryer to start the cycle. Right now, I have no idea how much value is on my card, but I did two loads for less than $8.00, which was a nice change of pace.

Considering it was a Saturday night (I got there about 7:30), there were a lot of people, but there were plenty of seats, shelves, and carts, so it was preferable to the other place I’d been going to. It’s a little farther away, but I may go back.

Walking home, I thought I should get some supper (here comes the food part!), and as I walked by possible places, I checked them out on Yelp. I had initially planned on going to a place around the corner (PMF: Pardon My French) for steak frites, but the two times I walked by, it was uncomfortably loud, and I don’t need that with dinner. The second possible was a place called the Cornerstone Café. It nearly won (and I’ll probably hit it eventually), but I opted for an Italian place called Gruppo, just a little farther down Avenue B than PMF. I considered getting pasta, but they specialize in extremely-thin-crust pizza, so that’s what I went for, with meatballs, green peppers, and pepperoni, accompanied by a “Super Tuscan” wine. 

 9" personal pie

I expected it to be loud and crowded like every other place in the neighborhood on the weekend, but it was very quiet (granted, it was 9:30), with only a few other people in the place. I sat, ordered, and was served pretty quickly, and the pizza was very good. It’s almost a cracker-like crust, and while I prefer a thin-crust pie, this might have been just a wee bit too thin. It was good, but really crunchy. The ingredients were fresh, and the service friendly and helpful, so I thought I made the right choice. I thought I had earned some dessert, so I had a scoop of gelato, paid the bill, and left.

I walked by PMF (still loud, though nowhere near as loud as the Hairy Lemon Pub sports bar farther down the block; when I walked by that place, I was across the street and wearing earbuds, and it was still deafening)

I returned home (no one in the vestibule this time), determined to catch up on the blog, and it looks like I have. Sunday is our last rehearsal not in the Flea, and the last one not in our space. It’s another staggered call, so I’m not due until 12:30, which means I’ll probably walk again. The plan (according to the schedule) is some more ensemble work, then stumble-throughs of both acts. After that, who knows?

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