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History ensemble member Nick Asbury on the whole glorious moment...
Gloriously
Gloriously, we finished. And what a way to leave Stratford, The Courtyard, our friends and our houses and cottages and rivers and fields and birthplaces and building sites. We did 'The Glorious Moment'. We did it. And so did the audience. Richard II through to Richard III in four days with two trilogy days back to back. Hardcore.
.jpg) It is almost impossible to pick out individual moments - it all seems like a bit of a blur. But for us, there were one or two glorious moments within the whole 'glorious moment' as it were. Moments when the heart skipped a beat and the world went into slow motion. The most apparent one, as people who were there will testify, was the moment in Henry VI Part III in Act 2 - the Parley before Towton - when we ground to a rather rude halt and stood there in a sort of Mexican stand-off for 10 seconds or so, eyes darting about like Sergio Leone on acid. Eventually, Miles came to the rescue by coining a rough approximation of the lines and off we shot again, all of us slightly greyer of hair and with the wardrobe department cursing - having to do overtime on washing underpants in the interval. I'm sure everyone had their own mini crises at some stage, but we all had a ball.
Every time I perform these shows I feel a pride, and get a feeling that something special is going on. Again, something remarkable happened over the last few days: our relationship with the audience. As actors, our brief is ostensibly to do the 'same' thing to a 'different' audience every night. This time we were doing a 'different' thing to the 'same' audience. And it proved wonderfully symbiotic. Talking to people afterwards a common theme was that all had felt part of the company. Part of the show. We, as performers, felt this and responded accordingly. As a consequence, there was understanding. All the nuances, maturity, feeling, and sheer hard work we have put into these shows were all apparent. It was a great feeling, to share it. What's more, we've been engaged on this project for two years and a lot of the audience have shared that journey in their own way with us. Which is ALL about what Michael is trying to achieve as Artistic Director of this place. Acting, theatre, performance is not exclusive. It is in inclusive. So the standing ovation which we got on Sunday evening (which I will always remember and even now, two days on, gives me goose bumps just thinking about) was not just the audience clapping us and saying well done; it felt like a genuine celebration of the whole building. Of us all. Not a patting on the back of each other mutual smugness, but a real arms aloft joy. As the lights came up after the final blackout, we, the actors, all just stood there on stage and were all taken aback by the reception. The noise, it was unbelievable. We just stood there some more. Eventually, we started to bow.
Theatre comes and goes as quickly as you can tell it. It exists in a moment. But, in a way, this has existed for two years. The Courtyard, that sweet blessed hull and hulk of a rusty shed, was built to express an idea and for these shows to live and breathe it. Also, as actors we are used to things being ephemeral. Our lives and our work. We are very good at getting to know people very quickly - you have to - because you are working, trusting, sharing with them the moment you meet. The flip side is that we are used to saying goodbye very quickly - it doesn't make it any easier, but we are used to it. But this is different. We, as a company, took a lot longer than usual to get to know each other collectively because we knew we had the time. Consequently, our friendships and love for each other now goes deeper and has firmer foundations. The same can be said of our relationship with The Courtyard, not just the theatre itself, but the people who work in it every day - the Front of House staff, the Green Room staff, the cleaners, the technicians, the Box Office, the Cafe and Bar. It is a real wrench.
And the weird thing was that as we were performing these plays last weekend all the company were packing at the same time and so were the shows. As people went home at night so they were packing their bags and emptying their fridges ready for the off. As each prop or piece of set was used for the last time so they were packed away into the growing mountain of boxes in the massive back dock behind the stage. It sure socks it home to you that what you're doing is a point in time. I love and loathe it at the same time.
But so much has happened. So much to tell. So much to remember. It's the reason why I started this blog. To record. To make it less of a fleeting moment in time. Impossible, of course. You have to let go. That is why, as I bowed on Sunday night, and beamed a smile of pure pleasure, so I could feel my tears fall to the floor. But we had all shared a moment. And it was glorious.
 Respond to Nick's blog
Watch extracts from the Histories
 View scenes from Henry V and behind the scenes in rehearsals.
Glorious Moment pictures
If you're on Facebook, you can take a look at photos from the Glorious Moment in Stratford.
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About blogger Nick
Likes: Cricket and music. Fields and dark pubs with no music
Dislikes: Lager, crowded streets and light bars with music |
