Page 46 - The Gonzaga Record 1994
P. 46
There’s nothing nicer than a good show. In spite of all our sophistication and
Billy Budd is a complex play, and a assurance. Wednesday found us very
difficult one. Its treatment of such themes nervous. Saturday's dress- rehearsal had
as war, redemption, the conflict between been awful. For my part I had forgotten or
duty and justice and the dual nature of fudged practically ever)' one of my small
love and hate, should make it demanding number of lines, and the flow of the play
of the cast and the audience, while the w asn’t helped by the constant
strangely formal poetry of its language interruptions for light-direction. We were
hardly makes it good for a giggle. It was a beginning to doubt our flagrant talents
challenge for us, and one made all the and even Mr Bevan’s choice of play.
more daunting by the knowledge of our Nevertheless, by the end of the evening
duty to equal and surpass last year’s great we had got back our confidence and the
success. main concern now was that our
Parts assigned and whining done, complacency might spoil Thursday’s
rehearsals began in earnest, and from a performance. Which it did. In spite of Mr
miasma of high-flown phrases and Bevan’s insistance that the action had
meaningless intonations, we watched our been sharper and more dramatic, most of
characters materialize or flailed about us felt that it had been tlacid and dull, and
trying to find them. Mr Bevan moulded or when Friday night came round we were
pummelled until Billy Budd, the determined to make it good.
Handsome Sailor (Patrick Stephenson - as Besides, our parents were in the
handsome a sailor as ever let go top audience.
gallant rope and bowlines) became more And we were brilliant. Our parents told
than a ‘sunny, smiling infant with no us so and Mr Potts (who had been
spleen nor knowledge in his head’, and hanging around as a sort of Prince
Captain Vere (Captain Ian Brennan), was Edward to us over the last two nights) told
much more than just a kind of tortured our parents so. And we told each other so
James T. Kirk. John Claggart the sadistic at every possible chance. ‘A triumph’, we
master-at-arms developed immeasurably, said, ‘a great night out!’
as Ronan McCullough mastered every In the euphoria of our pride and relief
aspect of a complex character, full of self- we were in no position to judge. Some
loathing and as insidious and brutal as a things, I hope were undeniably great. Mr
lemon-scented baseball bat. O'Connell’s grand set not only looked
In the group-scenes too, and between terrific - like Rembrandt or Caravaggio,
the minor characters, a dynamic grew up, as he remarked himself - but it created the
and as we grew into our parts, our egos perfect ‘space’ (as we actors like to call it)
dropped the sandbags and our pretensions to ‘work’ (as we actors like to call it).
took off. We were becoming actors. Our Barry Cunnane’s Dankster, too, was
conversations took on a learned, splendid. But now, months later, after the
analytical air - ‘Does Vere like Seymour?’ hysteria and unreality has died away, I
‘What does Wyatt think of Claggart?’ can’t help but think of the remark made to
Rehearsals were interrupted by the odd me by one critic: ‘I’m not saying that it
super-subtle 'Do you think maybe I wasn’t good. It was good. It's just that it
should have a few more lines here?’ from was so heavy.’
an unassuming ingenu, and Mr Bevan had
occasion to say to me: ‘I think you’d Fintan O' Higgins (Senior 6)
better worry less about your motivation
and more about your lines’.
38
Billy Budd is a complex play, and a assurance. Wednesday found us very
difficult one. Its treatment of such themes nervous. Saturday's dress- rehearsal had
as war, redemption, the conflict between been awful. For my part I had forgotten or
duty and justice and the dual nature of fudged practically ever)' one of my small
love and hate, should make it demanding number of lines, and the flow of the play
of the cast and the audience, while the w asn’t helped by the constant
strangely formal poetry of its language interruptions for light-direction. We were
hardly makes it good for a giggle. It was a beginning to doubt our flagrant talents
challenge for us, and one made all the and even Mr Bevan’s choice of play.
more daunting by the knowledge of our Nevertheless, by the end of the evening
duty to equal and surpass last year’s great we had got back our confidence and the
success. main concern now was that our
Parts assigned and whining done, complacency might spoil Thursday’s
rehearsals began in earnest, and from a performance. Which it did. In spite of Mr
miasma of high-flown phrases and Bevan’s insistance that the action had
meaningless intonations, we watched our been sharper and more dramatic, most of
characters materialize or flailed about us felt that it had been tlacid and dull, and
trying to find them. Mr Bevan moulded or when Friday night came round we were
pummelled until Billy Budd, the determined to make it good.
Handsome Sailor (Patrick Stephenson - as Besides, our parents were in the
handsome a sailor as ever let go top audience.
gallant rope and bowlines) became more And we were brilliant. Our parents told
than a ‘sunny, smiling infant with no us so and Mr Potts (who had been
spleen nor knowledge in his head’, and hanging around as a sort of Prince
Captain Vere (Captain Ian Brennan), was Edward to us over the last two nights) told
much more than just a kind of tortured our parents so. And we told each other so
James T. Kirk. John Claggart the sadistic at every possible chance. ‘A triumph’, we
master-at-arms developed immeasurably, said, ‘a great night out!’
as Ronan McCullough mastered every In the euphoria of our pride and relief
aspect of a complex character, full of self- we were in no position to judge. Some
loathing and as insidious and brutal as a things, I hope were undeniably great. Mr
lemon-scented baseball bat. O'Connell’s grand set not only looked
In the group-scenes too, and between terrific - like Rembrandt or Caravaggio,
the minor characters, a dynamic grew up, as he remarked himself - but it created the
and as we grew into our parts, our egos perfect ‘space’ (as we actors like to call it)
dropped the sandbags and our pretensions to ‘work’ (as we actors like to call it).
took off. We were becoming actors. Our Barry Cunnane’s Dankster, too, was
conversations took on a learned, splendid. But now, months later, after the
analytical air - ‘Does Vere like Seymour?’ hysteria and unreality has died away, I
‘What does Wyatt think of Claggart?’ can’t help but think of the remark made to
Rehearsals were interrupted by the odd me by one critic: ‘I’m not saying that it
super-subtle 'Do you think maybe I wasn’t good. It was good. It's just that it
should have a few more lines here?’ from was so heavy.’
an unassuming ingenu, and Mr Bevan had
occasion to say to me: ‘I think you’d Fintan O' Higgins (Senior 6)
better worry less about your motivation
and more about your lines’.
38
