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By: Johanna Mathieu
Center Stage Ensemble has chosen it's spring musical for 2000 and the verdict is... bum ba bum... Li'l Abner. The show, which is based on a cartoon strip, has a huge cast and is full of rousing dance and singing numbers. Last seen in the Twin Cities at Community Little Theater in the summer of '97, Li'l Abner tells the tale of Dogpatch, USA, a small town deemed unnecessary by the US Government and to be vacated for nuclear testing. How
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ever, after the discovery of the yokumberry bush which has the potential to turn boys into built, attractive men the government reconsiders its decision. Meanwhile, Daisy Mae pursues Abner Yokum up until the fateful Sadie-Hawkins Day Race. The production will be staged April 6, 7, and 8 at the Lewiston Middle School Auditorium.
Auditions for Li'l Abner will be held on January 18 and 19 at 6pm in the
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chorus room. Directing the show is CSE advisor Richard Martin. The Musical Director is Mr. Libby with Mr. Avery as Voice Coach and Steve Dupont, an LHS alumni, is choreographing the show. With a cast of up to 50, CSE encourages everyone to tryout regardless of prior experience. Pay attention to the announcements for more details.
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By: Jeff Lagasse
You may not think it's manly for a guy to don makeup, but I'm secure enough in my manhood to admit that I've done so from time to time. No, I'm not talking about some weird affinity for transvestite behavior. That's the sort of thing you keep between yourself, the mirror, and maybe a dog, and I would never write about THAT sort of thing in this column. I'm talking, instead, about wearing stage makeup for a play. This doesn't make wearing it any more manly, but it sure makes it a heck of a lot more fun.
Well, I guess that depends on who you are.
Anyway, maybe you saw CSE's production of Welcome to Four Way last month. If you did, I was the studly guy playing Vietnam War veteran Victor ("stud" may be an exaggeration). So if my splattering of lipstick and rouge on my ruggedly handsome face wasn't macho enough, my character was; he wielded a knife and suffered from flashbacks. So make fun of me for wearing base and I might go spastic and annihilate your non-theater-appreciating butt.
Now, if you thought that drama was a bunch of fairy, prancing, Merry Men, fa la la la fare, allow me to dispel those misconceptions and get downto what drama is REALLY all about.
It's about ego.
Let's face it, most of us enjoy a little time in the spotlight, whether it be having dreams of becoming a rock star, fantasizing about starring in an award-winning movie, or daydreaming about becoming the host of your own cooking show on the Home & Garden network. Me, I prefer to quench my thirst for an ego trip not by slinging a guitar over my shoulders, or acting out "Forrest Gump" in my living room, or making a spicy Cajun dish lined with kiwi. I feed my ego by doing plays. And you know what? There's nothing wrong with a little ego. Keeps me humble everywhere else.
And besides, it's fun. Especially with Four Way. This is the first time I've ever had lines to recite, and
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dress rehearsal was a little nerve-wracking for me.... After all, the last time I ever SAID anything while acting was in grade-school when I and a bunch of friends would ad-lib Ninja Turtle episodes. I've come a long way from those days of twirling home-made nunchucks in my backyard (and giving myself several bruises in the process).
It turns out that I may have discovered a talent (yes, an actual TALENT, can you believe that?) that I didn't know was there. I've had two roles in drama before: a guard in last year's musical that stood there looking
perfectly stiff and Al Gore-ish, and a Cowboy-type sheriff in last year's one-acts, and neither role gave me a chance to bask in the glow of the stage lights very much. One role was too short, the other too trivial. Now, though, I got to hike my belt up, clear the phlegm from the back of my throat, and get noticed.... And I got several compliments after on my performance. By the end of the three shows, my ego- filled head had inflated to the size of a military life raft and I had to bend sideways to make it inside the dressing room.
And, of course, my critical acclaim earned favor from the ladies, who all flocked to my side after the show to have autographs signed on their bosoms (again, I warn you of possible exaggeration). I may even gotten on the good side of a certain attractive usher who was there for support all three nights (you know who you are, and I know where you live). My point in this snippet of autobiographical rant? Join something. You may discover a talent, and you may feed you malnourished ego just enough to feel good about yourself.
Plus the chicks'll dig you.
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