An Observation

Sometimes, in the rehearsal room, it can get a little bit...well, a bit dreary. Not that what I'm doing isn't completely, all-consumingly, exciting - or even challenging and involved - it's all of those things. Just occasionally, however, there can be a bit of hanging around. The director or choreographer may get ensconsed in something over the other side of the room - some fiddly piece of traffic, fixing an armline, or maybe even an internal conflict between creative departments.

It can be hard to stay focused fifteen minutes before lunch when you're starving and need the loo. Four o'clock is never a good time, either. If the cast was all pumped up and running scenes and numbers, it would be fine. But a few minutes' hiatus from the main action can be deadly. Even the cleverest of choreographers have fallen prey to the curse of the mid-afternoon lull.

The secret is simple: there's a maximum amount of time a group of performers can be left unattended before they lose interest, and once that point has been passed, there's very little chance of clawing back a return. It doesn't generate productivity.

What it does create, however, is the perfect opportunity for a tired turn to sneak a little sit-down. Of course, it's not without complications. There's an automatic check list to run through in one's head before taking action:

1. How guilty do I feel about not using the time productively? Would a little rest be more beneficial to me than running through that difficult bit of the routine I keep getting wrong?

Invariably rest wins over extra practice. Which brings us to:

2. How long is the choreographer's attention going to stay diverted? Seven minutes? Or a few seconds? Is it worth the bother? There's no point collapsing in a heap only to be called up again immediately.

3. Sussing out the best spot to sit. Usually, the only place is the floor. Occasionally there might be an unused chair onstage, or the edge of a flight case lurking near the sound desk, but these are only worth it if getting to them is inconspicuous. Moving away to find a seat will draw attention and could remind the choreographer to get everyone back to work. No. It needs to be subtle. The best way is to sink slowly to the floor without changing location.

It's amazing how quickly people will follow suit. I tried it today with the express purpose of seeing how long it took the rest of the cast to succumb to the luxury of a few moments' rest - even on a dirty floor.

I counted thirty seconds.

That's not long for the twelve or thirteen people in the rehearsal to be off their feet. (Lipstick says she can beat that with the same amount of people down in twenty-two seconds. We set each other little challenges sometimes.)

It's as predictable as well-placed dominoes, how quickly they all go down. There must be a subconscious comfort in knowing that someone else has already started the mutiny. The knowledge that by adding yourself to the growing number of sitters, you can only increase the safety.

As Lipstick always says,

"When one goes, they all go."