The Voice Behind the Radio

Just who is Quentin Farlowe?

Wayne David Parker, or "Daba," as he is known to his friends, didn't begin acting until his senior year of high school, after his dreams of being a basketball player were shattered (standing at 5'4", this isn't terribly surprising).

Following one of the first ever high-school productions of Godspell and two years in a rock band, Parker has since gone on to grace the stages of Michigan's professional theatres including Williamston, Meadow Brook and the Purple Rose. (While doing an 18-month run of Escanaba in da Moonlight, Parker received three requests for an autograph during a Red Wings game, while his seat partner, Jeff Daniels, was not recognized).

With his gift for character voices, Parker's agent encouraged him to try his hand at radio and television, both of which he has found much success in. You may recognize him as the voice of Ford, Volkswagen, Goodyear, or On-Star. With this much experience, it seems fitting that Mars director Tony Caselli would cast him to play a 1930s radio actor.

Along with many Michigan artists, Parker has reaped the benefits of the state's recent film incentive. Street Boss and Stone, in which he shares the screen with Robert De Niro, are both due out this year.

After a 25 year absence from our stage, we're thrilled to have Daba back at the Network, where he's been reunited with some of his long-time friends Sandra Birch, Joseph Albright, Joe Zettelmaier and Tony Caselli.

To see the whole team in action, don't miss It Came From Mars!

"On belay?"

Hey everyone! It's Maria, one of the apprentices here and the production assistant of K2. I just thought that I'd share a little bit of what things are like at "27,000 ft" here at PNT. This show has been a really great experience for me, from our first day of rehearsal at Planet Rock learning about the proper way to belay someone, up to the first show where we got some great feedback from our audience!

Let me start off by saying that John Manfredi and James Bowen are really great. Not only is it demanding to convey the effects of being 27,000 ft up in the air (with oxygen deprivation, exhaustion, and cold) but they have to do it while actually climbing and belaying up our ice wall. And I'll let you in on a little secret, it's no easy climb to do, although John does a fantastic job of making it seem like it's something he's been doing all his life.

We all owe Chris Lemons (our rock climbing consultant from Planet Rock) our lives since he's helped us figure out how to do climbs and falls both safely and accurately from the first day on stage. I was a little frightened knowing that I was going to be belaying the guys at the top of the show when I couldn't even see them, but Chris and lots of rehearsal helped set my mind at ease. One of the greatest compliments I've heard is from actual mountain climbers saying how realistic John's portrayal is.

Building the set has also been a journey. Technical Director, Janine Woods broke her leg (sledding, not mountain climbing) but still managed with her small army of volunteers to construct the second largest mountain in the world. I sometimes wish the audience got a chance to walk backstage and see all the bracing holding the climbing wall up and the giant staircase leading to the top platform where the guys fall from at the top of the show, it really is quite a sight.

I really couldn't say enough wonderful things about everyone that's worked together to make this show possible but I don't want to get too long-winded gushing about the cast and crew. I just want to encourage everyone to see this fantastic show about friendship and the crazy dreams that we all aspire to accomplish in our lives.
"Belay on!"

David Wolber here.

So the other night (Wednesday, December 9) I was working in my office - cubicle, really - while we're getting ready for an evening performance. We don't usually have Wednesday performances - this is a special group that has bought all the seats in the house for their Holiday Party - a treat for their staff and clients. Its a packed house.

Charlyn Swarthout, our trusty Stage Manager for CHRISTMAS CAROL'D, pops in with a serious tone and informs me that BJ Love, one of our actors, has called to let her know he's stuck in a traffic standstill and hasn't moved for an hour. It is now about 7:15pm or so and the show is to start at 8pm.

I don't think too much about it, since BJ said he's on 94 near the Jackson Rd exit - only 10 minutes away, as soon as the traffic starts again.

Around 7:35, Char finds me again to let me know that he STILL hasn't moved. Sometime around now, I also hear that John and Terry's power went out before they left for the theatre, and I get a text from my partner, Wa, that our power is out as well, something to do with a transformer that exploded. hmmm.

I speak with the Manager of the group that has bought all the seats in the house, and explain that there may be a slight delay, as we're waiting on a performer stuck in traffic, etc. The group is lively and abuzz with holiday cheer and are enjoying hors d'oeuvres and wine, so they seem understanding and not bothered at all when he makes the announcement to let them all know why we're going to delay a few minutes. It's about 7:50pm.

Checking online, I see that there is a major shutdown of the power grid, and a possible power line down across I-94, and we hear from BJ at 8:05pm that hasn't moved an inch. 8:10pm.

The show should have started by now, and since we have no clue as to when the traffic will be clear, the cast and I are getting concerned. Char smiled and said quietly, "do you want me to get my script for you?" and the bottom of my stomach seemed to drop through the floor into the deep void that I hadn't noticed under my feet.

I know the show. I directed it. I know many of the lines, but I've certainly not been the understudy. I wonder if the costume will fit. I try on the shirt, then the pants. not quite my size, but the suspenders hide that. It'll do.

"Maybe a concert reading." suggests John Seibert, since the ensemble relies on each other to help with costume changes and there's no time to walk me through BJ's props. I kick into director mode for a second and say, "ok, we'll do the show - as a concert reading - I'll have a script on a music stand, and we'll stay in a semi-circle." the cast agrees, I think they're as freaked out as I am, maybe more. What about costumes, and props. Since I don't have time to figure out BJ's I say, we'll just keep it minimal - don't worry about them, I think if we try to do too much and it stops the flow, that's worse. The audience will go with us if we commit.

I go to tell the group's leader the plan. I'll fill in and we'll do a concert reading of the play. I'll explain it in the curtain speech. He gets a slight look of concern and tells me I'll have to explain it to the audience, since he's not quite sure how to. My Artistic Director side kicks in "Of course. It'll be fine. We'll do this. It'll be great." And then I go backstage to breathe.

John asks if he should move to the desk in the first scene. I hear myself say, "yes, I think we should move around for the scenes, but lets keep the narration still." Someone asks if I want help with the curtain speech. I laugh and say sure. The adrenaline has dried up my mouth and I'm pretty sure my ability to communicate effectively may have disappeared through the hole in my stomach from 10 minutes ago.

8:25. I walk out onstage. "Good evening. My plan tonight was to give a curtain speech and welcome you all and thank you for coming. However..." and I explain with helpful interjections from John that we'll be doing a concert reading, and I'll fill in for the delayed actor until he arrives.

The audience applauds with what feels like unsure, but sympathetic energy as I turn around to get the music stand and THAT'S when it hits me that I'll have to sing. In my time of considering whether I could step into the role, I was looking over the words. the lines. Not the songs.

Its not a solo. but it is harmony. I instantly commit and we're off. The first beat of the play is blocked to be the Carolers singing, then remaining in their caroling clump and introducing the story. When we get to, "Covetous" "Old" "Sinner," "Ebeneezer Scrooge" the action is for the carolers to turn and crouch as Scrooge enters. We all kind of hesitate, as the plan is to do a "concert reading" but we do turn, and the next thing I know, the concert reading idea flies out the window as the rest of the group moves about the stage as they normally do.

I pick up the music stand, and my body decides to follow. In my head, I've thought about the first scene. Cratchit and Scrooge. BJ is Cratchit. That's as much as I've given my conscious mind. But I find that I know all the actions. I've got the script in front of me, so I let most of that worry go, and just focus on listening and responding, with as much awareness I can muster about the characters I'm playing. Scrooge is asking me if I think him a fool. I'm stammering my explanations for the missing coal. After Fred arrives, then the two Gents, I realize that we're not doing a concert reading at all, but the full-fledged production, minus complete costume changes and light cues (since I have Char's script, and was concerned that I wouldn't be able to see the script if it was too dark).

Another song, this time no words, just "Lu Lu's" but there's only three of us and its definitely harmony now.

We're getting laughs (in a good way) and I'm flying high. Changing characters. I'm a spirit. I'm a part of Ghost of Christmas Past. Bits of narration. The pace and energy doesn't drop a bit, except one moment that I had no awareness that my caroler had a description. hmmm. Now I'm Scrooge's dad, and I call Young Scrooge to me and Terry Heck enters in full costume and I bark at her and the scene plays out - I feel connected - full of clear, in-the-moment energy and know that its working. We're not just "getting through it", we're really kicking.

I step off stage and Helena Byrne, our production assistant tells me BJ is here. My heart and stomach do another little flip, and I realize I don't want to stop. I want to do the whole show. I'm on a rush, feeling great and have seen the excited/relieved/charged looks on the cast, telling me that we're doing just fine. and it's actually fun, not terrifying, and the show is working. and how do I stop? I don't have time to give BJ his costume without stopping the show.

But my director side giggles and pulls me aside to say, "You've had your fun. Let's give the audience the show you promised them, not the one you're standing in for. However successful and fun it may be for you." and I'm still offstage and my mind races ahead, and I hear myself telling Helena to let Char know that I'm stopping the show after the Schoolmaster scene, just before Fezziwig's. My cue - i don't miss a beat and enter and finish the scene. Then I stop the show, announce to the audience that our actor has arrived and ask for a couple of minutes to give him the costume I'm wearing and ask them to remain seated.

As the cast is leaving the stage, the audience applauds. It feels good. BJ gets into costume. I tell the cast we're going back to the last exchange of the scene we just finished, and moving on. They go back out on stage and I sit in the far left seat in the front row. Char has her script again and the full show kicks in.

At intermission, I go backstage to thank everyone for a wonderful thrill, and for helping me get through it. John and Terry insist I go out for a curtain call after the show, and i cancel my plans to go home to check on the power outage situation.

After the show, I check in with the group leader, and every audience member I see tells me how much they loved the play, and as an afterthought - how impressed they were with me. (they tell me these as two different thoughts, almost as though they've forgotten that I was in the show, which comforts me.) They really have been back in the play, and my stepping in didn't diminish their experience. A few of them tell me how they felt it was an even more special performance that they saw. A treat.

I'm pretty sure adrenaline is contagious.

I know that Holiday Cheer is.

Pass it on.

See you at the theatre.

Rehearsals for Christmas Carol'd begin!

Hello all!

I'm Helena, one of the shiny new apprentices here at Performance Network. As I'm the production assistant for the Network's next creation 'Christmas Carol'd' I'll be keeping you all updated on the progress of rehearsals and design.

Our playwright, Joseph Zettelmaier has adapted this Dickens classic and given the story's dialogue a good ol' nudge straight into the 21st century, while still remaining true to the original story.

This production has a small cast of five, giving our actors great scope to illustrate their multifarious ranges. The cast consists of John Seibert as Scrooge alongside Chelsea Sadler, Terry Heck, BJ Love and Kevin Young who all play various roles throughout the play. At this time, the actors are working from the script, developing the many characters they are required to portray and also familiarising themselves with the set our designer Monika Essen has envisioned.

It has been decided that all sound effects throughout the show will be created organically rather than with recording. So we are currently searching for props and materials to make the sound effects we require. I think this will make the experience for the audience quite authentic.

Over the coming weeks Janine Woods, our technical director will begin making Monika's design a reality. I'm really excited to see this set come to life.

Helena

The BLONDE, BRUNETTE Experience

Due to rave critic and audience reviews that have resulted in sold out shows, we're extending our season opener, Robert Hewett's The Blonde, the Brunette and the Vengeful Redhead. You now have until October 25th to see Suzi Regan knock it out of the park with chameleon-like skills and ability to transform into quite the collection of characters.

I just wanted to take a moment to touch on the experience that a viewer has while watching this show. The structure of the play is great for "manipulating" the audience, for lack of a better word (well, "engaging" might actually BE that better word...). Because the story unfolds through a series of monologues, it starts to become a guessing game about who we'll see next and what the REAL story is. You see, as we hear each person's perspective, we are with them, in the moment, lapping up every morsel they have to tell us -- until the next person comes along and the previous character is suddenly old news.

The last time that I watched a performance, it was so interesting to hear pockets of conversation* all over the theatre, between scenes, with people hedging their bets on who the next shadowed character behind the screen will be, and what bomb they're going to drop.

If you've seen the show, leave a comment and share your experience. We'd love to hear from you.

*Performance Network does not encourage or condone conversation during a live show...but sometimes you just gotta do it.