THE GAMUT RETREATIn which twelve brave souls brave the Pennsylvania wilderness in the name of theater.
On Monday afternoon, after a three-hour drive which included some requisite shenanigans (we realized half-way that we had left the directions at home), I found myself in a cabin at the top of a mountain in Tioga County (the "Pennsylvania Grand Canyon"). From the first moment I arrived, I was almost inseparable from my $150 piece-of-shit cello. I must have had my hands on it for at least four hours a day. It felt like orchestra camp. By the third day, my shoulders ached (satisfyingly, rather than in a way that indicates something is seriously wrong), and the fingertips of my left hand were bruised and significantly more calloused.
This was exactly what I need. I only hope I can continue to obsess like this in the coming months - even years.
Aside from riding bikes, sitting around campfires singing songs, stargazing, and being massaged at a spa in local Wellsboro, the company also intensively analysed Hamlet. The version we are mounting is an abridged adaptation for high school students which we will be performing intermittently from October; I'll be playing Ophelia, Horatio, and Guildenstern. Plenty of excitement there.
There will be a few more photos when I develop my black and white film from my "new" camera (I bought a Ricoh SLX-500 on eBay for $20 delivered to replace my cripple-shuttered Fuji). In the meantime, check out the photos I have here.