AYLI, rehearsal 15, ENDING (5.4)

It was all hands on deck for the final scene last night. Time to pull it all together and do the magic.

But first we had to learn some music: “Juno’s Hymn,” the short paean to the Roman goddess of marriage, hearth, and home. The question was asked, “Why does every show Dale directs turn into a musical?” First of all, how dare you? Second of all, I have no clue. I almost didn’t pick AYLI because of all the songs in it. (I still have to write “Greenwood Tree” and the Dead Deer song, and I’m not sure I’m not going to write a third version of “It was a lover,” plus all the incidental/soundscape music.)

Anyway, “Juno’s Hymn” is stodgy and boring and not too difficult. We learned it with the piano version:

And then I released the EDM version on them:

As I suspected, the EDM arrangement is far too heavy for our little chorus, so I’ll be pulling it back a bit. But isn’t it stodgy and stolid?

Notice the start of our elegant set!

Then we got on our feet to learn the dance at the end of the show. We had learned the first half of it eariler, but now that I’ve actually composed the music it was time to learn the whole thing. The first half is easy, but the second half has presented some challenges, since it asks the actors actually to use the space around them like an actual dancer.

Miraculously, no one was injured during the process, although somehow we always ended up with a couple of solo strays even though everyone is constantly dancing with the person to your right, people. More work is required. (Chuck is way too excited by this dance.)

The piano version, slow:

And the joyous EDM version:

Eventually, as I told the cast, the music will settle down into a quieter, slower version; they will continue their joyous prancing in slow motion as Rosalind comes downstage and delivers the Epilogue. Then we rev back up, finish with a huzzah, and CURTAIN CALL!

Isn’t it pretty to think so?

Now we had to actually work through the scene. I asked the cast to consider that they weren’t just casually standing around chatting while waiting for MAGIC TO HAPPEN, PEOPLE. Who is this kid Ganymede anyway? What’s he about to do? Will it be dangerous?

We discussed cutting Orlando and Duke Senior’s lines about how much Ganymede looks like Rosalind — after all, what’s the point at this juncture in the show? We tabled the decision till later.

Amanda rightfully asked why we didn’t cut all of Touchstone’s nonsense about duelling. The sad but correct answer is that he’s covering Rosalind/Celia’s costume change. (Amanda, what if Touchstone has pockets and whips out that wireless mic whenever he has a routine?) Audrey thinks he’s hysterical, so there’s that.

Give or take the confusion caused by the skeleton set, we got all the country copulatives onstage and arranged. Cue Hymen’s entrance:

So into all this bonhomie comes odd music. Everyone is taken aback. Fog/smoke begins to erupt upstage. A green laser lightshow kicks in. From the fog emerges the Green Man — is Corin actually the Lord of the Wood? Unclear. He ushers up Celia, then Rosalind, both now attired for their weddings. Everyone is, needless to say, stunned.

Great moment: upon discovering that the pretty youth she was crushing on is a woman, Phoebe threw herself onto Silvius, distraught.

They arrange themselves on the great circle, now whole, and Hymen passes out bridal wreaths. Everyone sings “Juno’s Hymn.”

Into the midst of the jollity comes Jaques de Boys, whom you surely remember from the passing reference to the middle de Boys boy in the second sentence of the show, with news that Duke Frederick has been converted into a religious hermit and that everyone can now return to the Default World (TAZ/A2), their lands and positions restored to them.

Technically, it’s Jaques de Boys, but Mike stole the idea from other productions that LeBeau can be the messenger, which makes a bit of sense. (Of course, we’ve skewed that by having LeBeau join the resistance in 2.7, but pfft! Logic is so overrated, especially in Shakespeare.)

The other Jaques, our melancholy curmudgeon, declines to stay for the party, gives his blessing to the four couples, and leaves — and we dance! WITH THE PERSON ON YOUR RIGHT, PEOPLE. More work is required.