Opening Night: Dijon

Tonight is the night...

These two and a half weeks have been insane.  I got a call from a friend with whom I'd worked last summer saying, in brief: meet with this director and impress him.  I met the director that evening and received a call a week later asking me to join his production of Julius Caesar...in France.  At that point this was literally all I knew about the show: Caesar, France, James.

The following weekend I was in some guys house in Somerville learning sign language for a dance set to Nelly Furtado and a few days after that I was in New York having thai food with some other guy who's got this crazy beard.  I rehearsed the next day in a studio in midtown, signed a contract in French and boarded a plane a couple of days after that...talk about doing something "on a whim"...

Tonight, I am opening to a full house in Dijon, a beautiful old city (more on that later) in the heart of France.  I'm told all five of our performances here are sold out.  We'll move on to Bordeaux after that, and end the tour in St. Quentin, just south of Paris.

James, an actor whom I trust to the ends of the earth, gave me this advice: "You've just got the drink the kool aide on this one" which I've done, and I couldn't be happier.  I was in a production of Caesar last November and left with a bad taste in my mouth-- its a tough play.  Beautifully constructed, with some of Shakespeare's most incredible language, but its difficult to pull off.  The scenes range from Brutus' house to the Roman senate to an entire act in the field of battle, and the only violence written in is Caesar's assassination and a few suicides.

Arthur Nauzyciel, the director, has chosen to abstract the production (again, I'll have to expound on that in a later post) and remove some of the most unnecessary moments.  What we have in the end is a very high-concept version of the play, with enormously successful results.  For Arthur, its all about the language.  Our stylized movement and obscure backstory are really just tactics to allow us to focus entirely on the words, and to allow the audience the same privilege.  Though I speak very little, playing Trebonius, Young Cato and Dardanius, I'm onstage for a large portion of the show.  A loose 1960 Kennedy era design scheme is the icing on the cake, and a the dance that had me so confused and concerned is a brilliant way to end an otherwise heavy show.

This is the third tour, I think, and there has been talk of expanding the scope to other countries.  After tonight, my "sink or swim" moment, so to speak, I can only hope to be asked back for any future iterations.

For the time being, I'm off to grab a sandwich and head to the theater for our final rehearsal.

Bon chance, as they say.  Here goes nothing...