Rehearsals for Midsummer are kicking into high gear when we’re called in for our second shot at Se?or Hidalgo’s Circus of Wonders. Since a bunch of our cast members are in both shows, we aren’t even able to gather until ten-thirty at night, after the main stage rehearsal is over. I’ve already been in the theater for twelve hours, fetching gels and moving ladders and refocusing lights, and I’m not looking forward to another useless night of slogging through imaginary tar. But I’m a little heartened when I arrive and see that Clark is carrying a stack of stapled packets that look like scripts. Even having a couple of concrete scenes to read through would make me feel so much better about this production.
But when we settle into our circle of chairs and I look down at the “script” Clark has handed me, I feel the bizarre urge to laugh and cry at the same time.
SE?OR HIDALGO'S CIRCUS OF WONDERS
my mind is a circus of wonders
wonderful circus of the mind
dark matter in three rings, circling, circling
(THE ENSEMBLE becomes a series of concentric circles, pulsing, nesting, pulling apart, linking and unlinking)
rings like a ringmaster
rings like a doorbell
(DING, DING, DING, THE ENSEMBLE becomes a doorbell)
rings on my fingers and bells on my toes
(jingle bells, jingle bells)
rings around my mind
like an iron band squeezing, squeezing, clamped around my brain
until the pain the pain the pain
the pain turns into rings
rings like saturn
my mind is a circus of planets spinning spinning spinning out of control
(THE ENSEMBLE spins out of control spins spins spins EXPLODES)
explosion of light, explosion of the mind
the furious light of a supernova
my mind is a supernova
wonderful supernova circus
(THE ENSEMBLE coalesces into a writhing mass of fury)
I wonder wonder wonder wonder wonder
wonder wonder wonder wonder
wonder wonder wonder
wonder
(THE ENSEMBLE sings)
Okay, seriously, what are we supposed to do with this?
I glance up at our “playwright,” who’s sitting across the circle. He’s looking down at his lap, tapping a pen against his leg with one hand and sliding his glasses up and down his sweaty nose with the other. He looks like the kind of person who would spend his time doing something comfortable and safe, like painting model airplanes alone in a basement. He does not look like someone whose mind is a furious supernova. Russell’s sitting next to me, and I turn to give him a Can you believe this? look. The expression on his face is so horrified, I have to look away so I won’t burst into inappropriate laughter.
“Um,” says the guy with the long hair from across the circle. “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but how are we supposed to read this? It doesn’t indicate who says what.”
Clark runs his hands through his hair and heaves one of his world-weary sighs. “It’s not a script. It’s a jumping-off point. These are prompts, not lines. It’s an ensemble piece. That means we create it together. Right, Alberto?”
Our playwright looks up like he’s in the crosshairs of a rifle and nods quickly.
“I think it might be easier if—” the long-haired guy starts, but Clark cuts him off.
“If you want to do things that are easy, you shouldn’t be here. On your feet, everyone! Start at the top.”
We move our chairs back, stand in a circle, and stare down at our pages of text, but nobody does anything. After about ten seconds, Natasha says, “I don’t really get what any of this means. Shouldn’t we do some table work first and talk about themes and stuff? Like what Alberto’s inspirations were for writing this?”
Alberto cringes back into his seat, and Clark shoots Natasha a death glare. “Who’s directing this project? You or me?”
“I mean, you. But I don’t understand your directions.”
“I don’t get it, either,” says bench-press guy. “Like, here at the bottom of the page, it says we’re supposed to sing. But what are we supposed to sing? We haven’t had a music rehearsal or anything.”
“Sing what you feel moved to sing! God!” Clark’s voice comes out high and hysterical. Personally, I feel moved to run out of the room. I send the universe an image of the fire alarm going off so I can go spend this evening hanging out with Zoe, but it remains annoyingly silent.