Places, Please!: Becoming a Jersey Boy (12 page)

After a lunch break, I am asked to carry the practice guitar ten blocks to my next rehearsal location. It is held at Ripley-Grier Studios on the 16th floor of an office building on 8th Avenue; I am very, very familiar with this location. I audition at Ripley-Grier at least a few times a week, waiting for hours in its hallways. I have rehearsed three shows here. A popular place, it is filled with actors of every level, making it very fun to people-watch. It’s painted with a kind of tropical theme. And it has its own cool little coffee shop. But the greatest part? The sign on my studio says “
Jersey Boys
,” and that makes me the one who people are poking their heads around to look at. Any rehearsal is fun to peek at, but a rehearsal for a mega-show like
Jersey Boys
makes me quite the spectacle! I make three unnecessary trips to the bathroom just so I can be seen coming in and out of the rehearsal room door.

Caitlin and I spend three hours learning more choreography and cleaning that which I already learned. “Walk Like A Man” has less foot work than the previous two numbers, and I am really much better with less foot work. I don’t feel like an idiot doing this number, so Caitlin suggests we run the Big Three back-to-back like it plays in the show. And then I feel like an idiot.

Jeff Madden, Quinn VanAntwerp, Daniel Robert Sullivan, Michael Lomenda

©Joan Marcus

I mess up about ten times in this first run-through, but it is all right because we just run it all again. And again. And again. My mistakes are fewer as time goes by, but I am so worn out that I can’t think straight. Or stand straight.

What a workout it is! I am going to sweat my balls off in this show. Please pardon my phrasing, but I swear that is exactly what is going to happen.

“Terrific job today,” Caitlin tells me at the end of the night. “You feeling ok?”

“I feel great, Caitlin. This is totally fun.”

“Good. It should be. Hey, Dan?”

“Yeah, Caitlin?”

“You are really, really sweaty.”

I go home, clean up, and now am sitting up in bed with Cara asleep beside me. Again. She has left a Post-it note on her forehead: “Up early. Had to go to bed. Love u.” I cannot go to sleep yet because I have to work on my harmonies. But I keep looking down at Cara and can’t help feeling sad. I know she will most likely be with me all summer, but I am looking down the pike at a year of uncertainty with our schedules. No matter how it works out, I know I will not be sleeping beside her at the end of every day. The hardest thing about working in the theatre is leaving. Theatre work is always about goodbyes.

May 8th, 2009

Tomorrow I leave for Toronto, so today I spend two hours on the phone with Verizon working out a Canadian cell phone plan. To choose the best balance of minutes and cost, one needs a top-secret algorithm and degrees in quantum chaos and equidistribution number theory. I have none of these things, so I choose the plan that’s on sale.

Because of my long conversation about cell phone plans, I do not have time to review the Big Three choreography this morning. So, when I arrive for my three hours of dance rehearsal and we jump right into a run-through of everything I have learned so far, I am struggling. I should have done better.

We move on to learn “Dawn.” This song, too, is divided into sections: Dawn One, Dawn Two, and Dawn Three. Dawn One is in front of live cameras, just like Sherry One. It is a nice little bit of choreography with some slides that look like Flamenco dancing. The trickiest part of this section will be getting the angle of my guitar to match the angle of Nick’s bass exactly, but I can’t really get this specific until I rehearse with the guy playing Nick. Oh, and the other tricky thing is that the darn Mashed Potato makes an appearance in this song too. I am starting to really dislike Mashed Potatoes. Dawn Two moves into a live concert scenario, just like Sherry Two. The choreography is also pretty easy, but also extremely specific with its angles. This time, it is not just the angle of my guitar that matters, but the angle of my body relative to my microphone. Caitlin jumps all over me about this, but honestly I can hardly tell the difference between being at a 45° angle to the microphone and being at 70°. (I’m positive one needs a special mathematics degree for this too.) By the time I run these two parts of “Dawn,” our rehearsal is over and it is time for me to clean the sweat off myself, change out of my disgusting tee-shirt, and go into blocking rehearsal with Shelley.

Shelley and I get a lot done in our four hours of blocking. I now know, and have rehearsed, all the blocking for Act One. Quite the accomplishment based on how precise all that blocking is. And because I pretty much know all of my lines, I am able to actually run the act, minus the songs. It is fun. There are construction workers outside the studio window and I think they are really enjoying my performance. It is weird, of course, not having any other actors to work with, but at least Tommy spends much of the first act just talking to the audience (so I talk to the Ironworkers of Local 361). On that note, I’ve just realized how much of a difference it is to rehearse a show without any other actors. I am learning the show very precisely, but I am not really “feeling” it at all yet because there is no give and take. I don’t want to sound pretentious here, but it is almost like the art has been taken out. No, that’s not right. Rather, it is like the art hasn’t been inserted yet.

Caitlin remains at the studio for much of my blocking rehearsal, I think because she has some business in the office. She comes back to visit during one of my breaks and the three of us get into a conversation through which I learn a few interesting tidbits. First, they tell me that Sergio, the choreographer, is much more active in casting
Jersey Boys
companies now than when the show was first mounted; so the crop of guys are usually better dancers than originally intended. (Me too? Nah, probably not.) Second, they tell me that the Broadway Company actually has less choreography in it because Sergio has added sections of dance as additional productions have been mounted. Third, Jeremy Kushnier is one of the favorites, and his movement should be used as a model. (Um, yeah. Ok. I won’t be able to do the Mashed Potato the way I imagine he does it. Ever.)

Late today, I find out about a small financial bonus. My agent calls to remind me that she only gets 5% of my salary while I am in rehearsal, as opposed to the 10% she will receive for the rest of my contract. This may not seem like a lot, but it adds a nice pile of money to our very tight budget. Rehearsal salary is much less than what my performance salary will be, and we are trying to create a budget that allows Cara to be with me all summer and not have to worry about making money. She is not allowed to work in Canada, after all.

Oh, man. I’m going to Canada tomorrow.

REHEARSING IN TORONTO

SKYLINES, BANNERS, & SLICK MOVES

May 9th, 2009

Here we go.

I fly to Toronto early in the morning. After leaving Cara to catch my train to the airport, I cry. I didn’t expect that to happen. I thank her for letting me do this because, let’s face it, she is about to endure a lot of separation for the sake of me following my dreams.

I have been to Canada only once before, and that was just a day trip to a small winery on an island in Lake Erie. Toronto is, obviously, a big city. Flying in, I can see the city bunched up near the edge of Lake Ontario and gradually thinning out northward to the horizon. The CN Tower dominates my impression of the skyline. When you look at the skyline of New York, the Empire State Building looms, but doesn’t dominate. There is balance to the arc of New York’s building tops. But here in Toronto, the CN Tower grabs your eye and doesn’t let you see much else.

The company manager and his partner greet me at the airport. They are extremely welcoming as we jump in their car and embark on a quick tour of the city. My first thought is that the city seems very calm; my second thought is that every streetlamp on every main road has a
Jersey Boys
banner on it. I feel famous already! It is Saturday, and I arrive early enough that I will be able to see both the matinee and the evening performances. First though, I am delivered to my hotel and spend a half-hour running choreography in front of my 12th floor window that overlooks the theatre. This is my most exciting rehearsal so far; it is all starting to feel real.

I grab a shower, and then make my way over to the theatre’s stage door. From the moment I enter the building, I hear, “Are you the new Tommy?” time and time again. The doorman, the security guard, a stagehand, and a guy holding a case of beer all ask me this question before I even make it down the hallway. I arrive at the stage management office and meet the team, then my new production stage manager, Cindy Toushan, takes me around to meet the cast. One by one faces appear before me, all of them kind…and inquisitive. I have memorized some of the faces from the list of headshots I was given, so I impress a few people when I say, “Oh, you must be _________.”

And then I meet Jeremy Kushnier. Now, I’m a theatre geek. I know I am. So meeting this theatrically famous guy would have been a cool thing for me even if I wasn’t taking over for him in the biggest blockbuster musical in this entire country. My first impression of Jeremy is that he is very laid back, and this impression would carry through to his choices as Tommy. I tell him I hear he has been sick the past few days.

“Yeah,” he says. “Strep throat. I would have been out today, too, but I wanted to be here for you.” Cool, Jeremy. Cool.

I then meet what feels like two hundred other people, after which I’m led into the house to take my seat. I get chills when the music starts. It has been more than a year since I’ve actually seen the show, and it is better than I remember. Unbelievable. Rocking. Bright. Heartfelt. Loud, but intimate. Amazing.

But I’ve got to get to work.

I am here to get an impression of Jeremy’s work and see where I fit in this mold. So, my first impressions of him are that he is slick and very likable. He speaks in a very high voice. He speaks fast, and his movements are small and sharp. Oh boy. This is not quite where I have been finding my Tommy to be. With Shelley’s help, my Tommy is becoming a bit brasher, a bit deeper in my voice, and a bit bolder, somewhat like a bull in a china shop. Both interpretations seem legitimate, but now I am thinking that I will have to take on some of Jeremy’s qualities just to fit in with the rest of the actors up there.

And you know what else I am reminded of today? This is a big, big, big role. Oh. My. God.

Oh, and you know what else? The guy playing Bob Gaudio is Quinn VanAntwerp, the actor I heard resonate through the walls at one of my auditions at Chelsea Studios so many, many months ago.

 REHEARSING IN ORLANDO

UNDERWEAR DANCING, ROBBING BANKS, & SOLITARY RUN-THROUGHS

May 10th, 2009

I rise early, as has become my custom (by necessity, not by choice). I make coffee in my hotel room and work on choreography for two hours in front of the window, this time in my underwear. Cara would kill me if she knew I was doing this. She hates it when I assume that no one can see me. Apparently, dancing in my underwear is a sight for her eyes only, according to our relationship rules. But if any of these Canadians see me today it will be a really funny image for them: a guy with nothing but underwear, a guitar, and wild bed head flailing through his version of the Mashed Potato at 8:00 in the morning.

After my private rehearsal, I go for a short walk around the neighborhood, just to see what it’s like. It has a few nice restaurants, a movie theatre, a few coffee shops, a Staples, and a Dairy Queen. And the theatre. And that’s it. Nothing else. Ok, I’ve learned that we are kind of the only game in this part of town.

I want to buy something to take over to the theatre for the cast, so I go to the nearby supermarket and grab a few nice bunches of strawberries and some chocolate. (The fact that these are sexy foods usually reserved for lovers and those staying in a luxury suite at the Hilton doesn’t cross my mind.) I learn my first thing about food shopping here in Canada: they don’t take American Express! So, I pull out the MasterCard I haven’t used in years and hope that it is still active. If it is not active, I am probably going to be in trouble for eating one of the strawberries on my way to the cashier. No problem, though, the card works.

I bring the fruit and a nice card over to the theatre, leaving them in the green room with a note that says I am looking forward to coming back and getting to know everyone better. It feels weird to have met my cast, but not be learning the show with them. If a new quarterback has been signed by the New York Giants, he doesn’t go learn the playbook with a bunch of guys in Florida who happen to be running the same forward passes. (Afterthought: That is probably be the only sports metaphor I will ever use in my life. I am amazed I could even remember the name of New York’s team. I don’t know if the Giants are any good or if they have ever won a World Series...)