Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Actress Playing Juliet Falls from Balcony

from The Independent on Sunday
October 5, 2003
by Andrew Johnson

A production of Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare's tragedy of star- crossed lovers, ended abruptly at a Worcestershire theatre when the actress playing Juliet fell off the balcony during the play's most famous scene, it emerged yesterday.

Laura Rees was so engrossed in her role at the Malvern Theatre on Friday night that she leaned out a little too far and tumbled eight feet down on to the stage, the English Touring Theatre's spokesman Drew Colverd said.

She suffered bruising and minor injuries that needed hospital treatment, and wounded pride. The remainder of that evening's performance was cancelled and Ms Rees will need a week to recover before resuming her role in Oxford.

How Ms Rees came to fall off the balcony is unclear, but an inspection of the set had not disclosed any faults, Mr Colverd said. "It seems that Laura was simply acting her socks off. She was so engrossed in the part, and just leant out a bit too far and she fell about eight feet.

"She is absolutely fine and a little bit embarrassed, but thankfully she only had a few bruises. Fortunately we have a natural break now of around a week and a half before we move on to Oxford for the next stage of the tour.

"It is very unfortunate that we had to cancel, but we are not the sort of company that employs understudies and there is no way we would expect Laura to carry on after what happened."

Mr Colverd added that the set had undergone full safety checks before it was assembled, and also following the incident last night, but no faults were discovered and there were no plans to modify it.

Copyright 2003 Independent Newspapers UK LimitedProvided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved.

Currently watching: Romeo and Juliet

Monday, March 26, 2007

Poetry-Time Cafe with Rainer Maria Rilke

WOMAN IN LOVE

That is my window. Just now
I have so softly wakened.
I thought that I would float.
How far does my life reach,
and where does the night begin?

I could think that everything
was still me all around;
transparent like a crystal's
depths, darkened, mute.

I could keep even the stars
within me; so immense
my heart seems to me; so willingly
it let him go again

whom I began perhaps to love, perhaps to hold.
Like something strange, undreamt-of,
my fate now gazes at me.

For what, then, am I stretched out
beneath this endlessness,
exuding fragrance like a meadow,
swayed this way and that,

calling out and frightened
that someone will hear the call,
and destined to disappear
inside some other life.

Currently reading: Romeo and Juliet (Arden Shakespeare: Second Series)

Saturday, March 24, 2007

A Productive Day, Indeed

I had a meeting with an agent this morn at 9.
I had an audition for a student film at Chapman University this early-afternoon at 1.

I made the agent cry.
I made the director cry.

The agent wants to sign me.
The director offered me the role.

(All in a days work, indeed)

Currently listening: The Woman in White (2004 Original London Cast)

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Poetry-Time Cafe with William Stafford

A RITUAL TO READ TO EACH OTHER

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dyke.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail,
but if one wanders the circus won't find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider--
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give--yes or no, or maybe--
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

(thank you, matthew, for taping this to my dressing room mirror)

Thursday, March 8, 2007

Poetry-Time Cafe with Sylvia Plath

BLACK ROOK IN RAINY WEATHER

On the stiff twig up there
Hunches a wet black rook
Arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain.
I do not expect a miracle
Or an accident

To set the sight on fire
In my eye, nor seek
Any more in the desultory weather some design,
But let spotted leaves fall is they fall,
Without ceremony, or portent.

Although, I admit, I desire,
Occasionally, some backtalk
From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain:
A certain minor light may still
Lean incandescent

Out of kitchen table or chair
As if a celestial burning took
Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then
Thus hallowing an interval
Otherwise inconsequent

By bestowing largesse, honor,
One might say love. At any rate, I now walk
Wary (for it could happen
Even in this dull, ruinous landscape); skeptical,
Yet politic, ignorant

Of whatever angel may choose to flare
Suddenly at my elbow. I only know that a rook
Ordering its black feathers can so shine
As to seize my senses, haul
My eyelids up, and grant

A brief respite from fear
Of total neutrality. With luck
Trekking stubborn through this season
Of fatigue, I shall
Patch together a content

Of sorts. Miracles occur,
If you care to call those spasmodic
Tricks of radiance miracles. The wait's begun again,
The long wait for the angel,
For that rare, random descent.

Currently listening to: Melancholishch Schon