"There Were a Thousand Beatrices and a Thousand Different Ways to Do It"
January 21
The temperature, with the wind chill, was in the negative numbers tonight. I didn’t get back to the programs building until about 6:25, and we started check-in. I challenged the group to start without us going forward if we got jammed up at the door.
It was a very relaxed night, so I took the opportunity to talk to the group about the audition process. One participant immediately expressed how much they enjoyed it, appreciating the “formality and the uniformity—everyone got a chance [to do their thing]. There were a thousand Beatrices and a thousand different ways to do it.” Another participant said they found it less pressure to audition in the space we used because “everyone was so far away.” Another agreed, saying, “In the circle, everyone is so close and in your face.” One participant remarked that it “looked professional, [like in a movie]… it was empowering!” Another added that it “took us out of our comfort zones.” The general consensus was that we should do it again next year, though one participant joked, “Yes! But I hope I’m not around to see it!”
Some participants wished they could have chosen their own monologues. One said, “If you wanted to be Don John, you [should have gotten to read for Don John].” However, as they discussed, another acknowledged that the pre-selected pieces were good for those who didn’t know what to do. Another participant pointed out that many characters didn’t have monologues and would have required scene work, which is harder to do in one night. Despite this, some still wished they could have chosen their own pieces, and a few read scenes or monologues outside the selection.
Discussion shifted to summer programming, with many expressing concerns about writing. “I’m not much of a writer,” one participant admitted, and others echoed the sentiment. I reassured them that there would be guidance and prompts to help. One participant was especially enthusiastic, sharing a detailed account of a similar project they had done in the past. Another asked if they could still participate in the regular season if they didn’t do the summer project. That would need discussion, but likely not, as the goal is to extend programming year-round. The group was enthusiastic about the prospect, particularly the idea of alumni performing their work on the outside.
Turning to Much Ado About Nothing, one participant said, “I was thinking about what my character looked like…” with a wry smile. Another envisioned Benedick with a “floppy hat with a long feather.” The group discussed setting, with suggestions ranging from the Roaring ‘20s with flapper dresses to the Victorian era with “big poofy dresses.” One suggested the Renaissance as a classic choice, while another proposed the 1950s with poodle skirts. I reminded them that the men in the play are militaristic, which would need consideration. They asked again if they could watch the movie.
One participant was determined to secure a Shakespeare souvenir, something that had been denied the previous year. They insisted I include it in my proposal earlier this time. I said I was more focused on getting the set pieces painted, but they were not having it. “I will try,” I said, and we moved on.
We then read Much Ado, covering 1.1 through 1.3. Some participants had to sub into roles, and one struggled significantly with reading. Every two-syllable word required prompting, but no one commented—they simply helped, word by word. Eventually, it became clear that we were going to finish the scene no matter how long it took. Inside, I felt emotional, but I didn’t show it. At the end of the scene, everyone snapped for them without saying much else. It was a beautiful and unexpected way to finish the night.
January 23
We arrived at the facility a few minutes after 5:15 and got to the auditorium around 6:00. Many ensemble members were already waiting, and we quickly set up, handing out scripts as people arrived.
Ensemble members teased the facilitators about how professional the script looked compared to last year’s. One participant exclaimed, “You didn’t do this, did you? It looks so professional!” The group laughed, but there was genuine excitement in the air. One participant seemed upset and hesitant to engage, later asking about the casting system and whether they could challenge for a role. The facilitator explained that the current casting was set, but there were still great roles available. This seemed to comfort them slightly.
After discussing the callout process, we began reading. Participants eagerly took on roles, with some jumping at every opportunity to read. One participant, despite struggling emotionally, found comfort in the process, growing more engaged as the reading continued. By the end, they were even ad-libbing.
Discussion followed, with ensemble members excited about certain performances and ideas for staging. One suggested having characters eavesdrop visibly onstage. Another proposed having Claudio and Benedick’s scene take place near a tree to tie into the dialogue. The group also revisited the movie, eager to watch it once approved.
We continued reading, stopping at the end of Act II. One participant humorously announced, “And that was Much Ado About Nothing,” prompting laughter. They were clearly beginning to enjoy the process.
As we wrapped up, a few participants stayed behind to discuss casting and upcoming plans. One shared their excitement about writing for the summer program, whispering multiple times throughout the session about how much they were looking forward to it. Another, playing Dogberry, excitedly theorized that Dogberry might be a reincarnation of Bottom from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. They were especially eager for their “ass monologue.”
It was a productive and energizing session, setting the stage for what’s to come.