Some of the Reasons Why.

No better place to rehearse...probably in the world

Not the main reason why we do what we do...I say 'we', I can only speak for myself here, really...but it has to said that there can few, if any, better places to be when you're in the throes of rehearsing what amounts to a pretty dark and moody play. Even when the sun don't do the shiny thing, it's still pretty special. I'm thinking of that rather odd read-through/rehearsal at the end of April...something most would like to forget, I think...yet even that had a special sort of something about it.

What is it that makes what we do so special that we keep on coming back, year after year - and sometimes even more frequently - and putting ourselves through the mill?
Surely can't be the love learning lines (acting would be brilliant if only there weren't lines...s'pose I should have gone in for mime) or finding a new way of walking that better puts across a character or speaking in a silly voice or colouring your hair red...the list is apparently endless for whatever this thing isn't. Here's a clue...for me at least...as to what it is.

Some of it is down to the group of people, that you've come to know over those years, that have become friends and co-conspirators in that alchemy that is theatre. We have fun. Simple really. Sharing the (not so) simple aim of presenting a story and telling it with as much style, panache and relevance that you, as a group, can muster.
Yeah, it's hard work. Sometimes, after a day doing whatever else it is you do, the very last last thing you need is a car journey (a long one in some cases) and some bloke telling you that you need to be standing there, not there, or you need to show more urgency/anger/fright/love/bewilderment. Bewilderment's fairly easy sometimes!

There are times, when you've agreed to do something or go somewhere, that the all too familiar feeling washes over you...I really don't wanna do this; yet, down there somewhere, in wherever it is these things happen, a little voice pipes up 'Yeah, but you know you'll enjoy once you're there.' And for me, driving into the car park at the castle invariably lifts me and I get that tingle of anticipation. Doesn't matter if I'm directing or turning up to act, that little roman candle of expectation goes off and suddenly any lingering misgivings are not there any more. That's one of the reasons.

I've always been told (not least by certain teachers) that I've got an 'over-active imagination.' ('Max could accomplish so much more if he'd stop day-dreaming and knuckle down to some hard work' Thank you Mr Leitch.) Well thank...insert your deity of choice here...for an over-active imagination. That's the thing that gets me straining at the bit when I see something up there on-stage that has a spark, a frisson of potential that will, knowing the people involved, become something absolutely dynamic. I see it, with my over-active inner-eye, as it will look when it's lit, when the music's playing or the smoke's pouring across the stage and there are the shadows, waving their flags like ghosts, moving precisely the way you imagined it. I wouldn't be without my OAI...not for all the tea in China (other tea-producing nations are available).

Twenty five or thirty other reasons are all the people that appear and do 'stuff' as the time draws near. I'm sure everyone has their own reason(s) for being at the castle and having the pointy-man running around rearranging things and changing his mind surely isn't on anybody's list...but whatever those reasons maybe, I'm glad.

And then, of course, there's that moment. Lights, S/M calling beginners please and the music kicks in and we're off. All too soon, or so it seems, it's over and then there's the applause and lots of smiling faces leaving the auditorium. And that's a really really nice feeling.
And if you don't agree...I'll send my little friend round, he's very persuasive!