Yesterday I received a email from one of the players in Elements Theatre inviting me to a closed rehearsal.
I treasure these invitations when I get them. I believe it is a sign of trust to have me watching while the players explore the possible options they have with their character. Usually this means soul-searching and then committing to expose those feelings within the player outside the comfort of their own skin. You don't know if you had it right until after you show everyone what was inside. I imagine that this feeling is like jumping off a bridge without checking the bungee cord first.
I was caught by scenes when I wasn't even thinking or remembering my own childhood dining room memories with my parents (and little brother). I found myself tearing up at the forgotten memories as they snapped into my mind.
With the plays that I have seen over the years there are some people who can just move you. They don't seem to work at it. It seems more like an accident... almost. This group of players brings you in and then stretches and manipulates your emotions. I wish I had words that matched the artless elegance with which they brushed against my soul.
The Dining Room has a reputation of being a players play. The challenge of changing character in a split second is the mystery dish. Don't be fooled. The Dining Room feeds the soul with the sense of shared forgotten memories both resolved and unresolved.
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