Rehearsal

We rehearse in an old church in the East Village, a church that rents out its two upstairs rooms to theatre companies. I’ve rehearsed shows there before, and I love the atmosphere – it’s much better than the slicker rehearsal studios in Times Square, although those are more convenient. I walk up the steps to go inside. To the left-hand side is the office, where I can see piles of boxes labeled: “Hurricane Relief”. Right in front of me is a big common room, and on some nights there are AA meetings going on there. So the actors trooping up the steps to go rehearse mingle with the recovering addicts. I trudge up the wide flights of stairs. On every landing, there are doors leading to offices, and rooms – rooms labeled: “Youth Ministry”, stuff like that. There are also these awesome old dark-wood bookcases, with glass doors. The bookcases are filled with books – I would love to have a bookcase like that some day. We rehearse on the 4th floor, a wide echoing room with hard-wood floors, and a major cross-breeze. Every night we’ve rehearsed, at around 8 o’clock, we can hear the church choir start their rehearsal, maybe 2 flights down. Their windows are open, like our windows are open … so the sound of their singing floats up to us. It’s glorious – a full, rich sound, many voices. It’s a vibrant church. One of the actresses in the play goes to this church, it is “her” church. There’s a homey feel to it. You can somehow tell that it is a true community. A true neighborhood church. I have to laugh, too – only in New York would a church announce on its billboard outside “reviews”, as though it is an off-Broadway show. “New York Times says …” I’ve seen that in most churches in New York, a small plug from some area newspaper, saying why the church is great. It’s funny to me.

“The best blockbuster sermons of the summer!” “Every week a cliffhanger … you don’t want to miss this one!”

When we move our rehearsals uptown, later in the process, I’ll miss the church. I’ll miss going there every night. I’ll miss hearing that choir, the voices floating up two stories into our window.