Hooray! When I got there I asked the wig people. One of them looked at me and said (nicely), "You can wear it in a braid if you can contain it." So needless to say she ended up putting it up (containing it?) into a huge wide bun.
I'm 2nd from the right in this picture. I marshaled the supers together for a picture, and then Kirstin, one of the overly-pretty platinum blonds in the chorus, was walking by so I grabbed her and pulled her in. (Yes, I know what platinum blond looks like. She's wearing a wig.) She's really sweet. I think you can see in the picture that Ken and Rachel (left and 2nd from left) are really shy, Kelly (next to me) is kind of shy, and me, I'll grab anyone and hug them in close for a picture.
You can't see it in the picture but we also had this white lacy thing sort of stuck on the top of the buns. That's the hair bun, by the way.
I just want to warn you, don't stare at those checked dresses too long or your eyes will go all wonky.
There is much to tell about the rehearsal. Like, how we had ginger ale in the glasses, and Elizabeth (Violetta) chugged a glass down as she does as part of the action and it spilled all down the front of her dress. Then there's supposed to be something called a "click-track" which is prerecorded music that's supposed to be coming from another room, but although they tried like 5 times, the music never started, and then it started about 5 minutes later just as Violetta and Alfredo were about to kiss. They had been arguing since yesterday that it'd be better if the orchestra played it, and today's rehearsal proved they were right. I, of course, have no idea if they prevailed. I guess I'll find out... Ok, so later, there's a scene where a messenger comes in to give Violetta a letter. Remember, this is the first time we're all seeing everyone's costumes. Kelly and I had climbed up to the top of the stairs and were watching from this ledge on the side of the house (remember, the house is the word for the part of the theater where the audience sits). So out comes John dressed in his messenger costume - long straight hair wig, a straw hat, baggy pants that ended below the knee and... wooden clogs. Traviata is a tragic opera, very tragic story. Everyone -cast, crew, the spattering of visitors in the audience - burst out laughing and kept it up for about 5 minutes. The director was like, "Maybe we need to rethink your costume... try it again without the shoes..." It was hilarious.
After Ken and I moved the table on, one of the interns was there holding my tray of glasses, and as I took it from her, she didn't let go. I was tugging it because my cue had come and gone. Then the drinks were sliding and she was trying to straighten them. Finally I said, "Just let go!!!" and ran on stage to serve them. I swear I spend most of my time onstage trying not to laugh at whatever was going on moments before I enter.
Final dress, with a real orchestra: Tuesday.
