With the final performance of "Gypsy" coming tomorrow, some hearts are already breaking.

Some cast members are looking forward to try-outs for their next venture in theater. The star, however, says she is still concentrating on the Now.

"I just want to do the very best for this one," Jayne White said backstage when asked about her future plans.

As for exploring possible shows in Sacramento, White, whose performance in this version of "Gypsy" outshines Bette Midler's movie version, was cautious.

"I like theater at this level. I can get home in five minutes. It's hectic enough doing "Gypsy" and raising three kids," she said.

Word has it that director Bob Hechtman is considering "Mame" for his next production, or possibly "Hello Dolly." Some of the cast members tried to recall what parts might be available in the two Broadway standards.

"There are a lot of roles for men in 'Mame'," said Patty Fayette, mother of Baby June (Kenni Fayette.)

Kenni Fayette herself will be trying out for a production of "Bugsy Malone," a kiddie musical planned by The Acting Company of Yuba City. A seasoned dancer and singer, Kenni is likely to get a key role.

Webber was thinking about auditioning for the villain's role in a forthcoming production of "Bullshot Crummond," Or maybe as a toga-wearing buffoon in "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum." Or, what the heck, maybe he should just run away to London and pester people at the reconstructed Globe Theater until they let him read for Polonius.

Now, Webber admittedly might be being a little unrealistic here, considering what Brendan Teetsell had to say just before last night's seventh performance of "Gypsy."

Webber was waiting backstage when Teetsell stopped to inquire, "Are you in the cast?"

"You're kidding, right?" Webber asked the 14-year-old tap dancer.

"I see you back here all the time, but I didn't know if you were in the cast."

"Well, I am."

"What do you do?"

Sighing heavily, Webber said, "Webber. I play Webber."

"Who's that?"

"I'm the device that allows Rose and Herbie to meet."

"Oh."

Children are the surest cure for hubris.

In any case, "Gypsy's" imminent closing was in everyone's mind. Neal Thorsen handed out directions to his home where the cast party is to be held.

"And I need it in my hand no later than Saturday night," he told one.

A musical stage play is a contradictory blending of individual egos and many talents melded into a cast and crew that sacrifices much to make the show go. The unstinting, unsung support from the family and friends of the cast is the glue that holds it all together.

A musical stage play is a brief construction made of cardboard, light bulbs and costumes composed of articles snatched from Salvation Army bins. The unruly cast works hard for weeks to create a disciplined thing that lasts only a few evenings. It is the final argument for the proposition that Art is long and life short.

In the course of its short life, a musical stage play spirits soar, stumble, sometimes sour, but generally soar again -- hopefully by opening night.

Above all a musical stage play is ephemeral. It is a bright bubble of energy, followed by a brilliant, Pop!

"Gypsy" is closing then and so is this weblog, because it must be proofed and printed out for presentation at the final performance.

In anticipation of that last show where some hearts will break because the bubble did, this writer, this vaudeville theater owner of the imagination wants to wish the cast, one an all, another break: "Break a leg!"

And - to quote Agnes/Amanda's farewell to Tessie Tura and the eternal glories of "real live the-ater" -- he would like to add:

"See you 'round the corner in half an hour."

Tonight's the night.

We enter the final three-day run of "Gypsy." Friends have helped edit the weblog down to a 38-page (or thereabouts) report on how it all came to be. Once again, let it be said, that it was easier to write then edit.

Looking back over those pages certain miserable facts pop out. Not enough was said about Dahni Trujillo, the talented 14-year-old actor who played Agnes/Amanda. She had quite a few lines spread over several scenes and did them well, always eliciting a laugh or two as when she asked Herbie to call her Amanda, not Agnes.

At another point, the bespectacled ingenue Agnes has to say good by to Tessie Tura and they exchange a hip bump while saying "See you 'round the corner in half an hour."

It had the atmosphere of a secret Masonic handshake, but the meaning drifted right over some people's heads. Still, Dahni did it all well.

Big disappointment: Dahni Trujillo got no solos so we could not hear her at her best. Instead, she was submerged in the Newsboys and "Toreadorables."

Next time.

Jonathon Bryson, who was unable to attend a number of the rehearsals fared well in the end, getting, as mentioned before, more than his share of applause at the end of the show.

Yvette Velez, long-suffering but still exuberant under the Caroline the Cow costume, was a trouper.

Al Durbin never stopped refining his "Grandpa" character. He was a method actor who would go into a dark corner just before the curtain went up, getting himself worked up -- or would that be down -- for his portrayal of Rose Novick's curmudgeonly, bitter and none too generous father.

The Sunday matinee was like being in the horse latitudes during the summer doldrums. Once Weber’s five minutes on stage were over it was just like the man said in “Casablanca” – “where they waited, and waited, and waited….”

The penultimate highlight of the waiting period was winning the mental pool for how long it would take someone to smash the cake in the hat.

Herbie (Timothy Van Zant) had been griping for several nights about never getting a piece of the "monkey-bite" cake. He was too busy on stage to get to the cake before others had consumed it after the Goldstone number.

The kindly Goldstone (Mike Gabhart) took the trouble to slice off a piece of cake, put it and a fork to eat it with on a chair and to keep it safe covered it over with his wide-brimmed, burgundy Zoot hat.

“How long do you suppose it’ll be before someone sits on it?” the waiting Weber wickedly wondered.

Goldstone smiled skeptically. He’d be right there watching it. What could happen?

In point of fact it was less than five minutes before one of the children in the cast rushed up and grabbed the hat, dragging it over the cake and frosting. What a curious, irrepressible tike he was!

Gabhart groaned, but said nothing.

There’s a special circle in Hell reserved for people who gloat and say, “I told you so.” It’s called the Smuggery Pit and that’s where you’ll find Weber for all eternity.

Goldstone cleaned the frosting from the leather sweatband, reassembled the piece of cake as best he could and replaced the hat over it.

Herbie came around a few minutes later and got his cake (and ate it too), thanking Goldstone.

The ultimate highlight of Weber’s drowsy Sunday was running into Larry Cooper, former news director at the defunct KOBO radio and currently a public affairs officer with the state Department of Agriculture.

The final bows were made and Weber was leaving the auditorium when he heard his named called. He turned to the white-haired and smiling Cooper hurrying to catch up with him.

They shook hands. They hadn’t seen each other in a year or so. Last time at a video store.

“Are you an actor?”

Weber considered saying, “Well, you’ve just seen the play. What do you think?” But he immediately realized what he risked hearing, and so wisely kept his mouth shut.

Cooper said he liked the show and they chatted for a minute or five about what they were doing in the way of work, and life’s current prospects.

Alas, another good topic to steer clear of.

The audience was lighter and less ebullient Saturday night, but in some ways better. It included directors and officials from other thespian groups, figures from the theater community power structure who might one day be ruling on what part, if any, an amateur might get.

Which is why serious thought might be given to quartering the stage manager and displaying his remains at a crossroads -- all in the best Shakespearean tradition of course.

For Weber it was like watching a traffic accident unfold in slow motion. It was happening, It was stupid. It was destined.

There was Rose, dashing out from a quick costume change and barreling across the stage, struggling to pin her microphone on. There was the oblivious stage manager lumbering out of the dark to move the news kiosk.

The orchestra shut down. The stage lights went up. The time for Weber and Rose to enter had expired. Just then the stage manager grabbed the kiosk and unfortuitously backed into Rose’s way. She drew up short, raced AROUND the man with the kiosk and steamed on toward Weber, frantically waving her hand in a sign, “Go on! Go on!”

Now the timing was only put off by a second or two, and what’s in a second or two? Well, ask any comic what a second or two means in delivery and he’ll tell you about it three, possibly four hours. The gist of his message will be: Timing is everything.

Kiosks, on the other hand, can wait.

Scientists warn investigators to be very cautious when trying to link cause and effect. So bear that in mind when you consider the chain of events that followed.

Weber and Rose (Jayne White) finally arrive on stage and Rose somehow flubs a line she’s never once missed in rehearsal or performance. Which somehow causes Weber to change a word in his reply. A small thing but disconcerting. Which causes Weber’s mouth to suddenly taste like copper pennies – a sure sign that the chemistry has changed. Moments later, Weber dropped a word from his practiced delivery. It was none but a few in the audience might notice and so no big deal, but the upshot of it all was that the enthusiasm and sparkle had escaped the scene, even before it began. Popped like the balloon girl’s appurtenances when she exits from the “Uncle Jocko’s Kids” scene.
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There were other timing problems last night, only they were of the type that brightened the show in unexpected places. Audience members gleefully talked about how conducter Dan Soares got carried away with the Toreadoables number and missed a cue. And missed it, and missed it, and missed it....

"Rose kept going over to the orchestra and saying, "Cut! Cut it out! Cut it OUT!." a member of the audience recounted.

"But the conductor was really into, just sailing along, his baton going up and down, Rose shouting, loader and louder, "Cut that OUT!"

Ah, a man and his music. What more need be said?
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Meanwhile, a Gypsy Journal reader has asked that special credit be given to Mr. Goldstone (Dr. Mike Gabhart, a podiatrist and competitive ballroom dancer from Yuba City).

Gabhart doesn’t have a single line to utter in the play, but he does play a pivotal role in that his entrance signals a breakthrough for Rose, June and Louise. Mr. Goldstone has given them and the act a chance to audition for the Orpheum Circuit headquartered in New York, They’re Big Time bound.

Mr. Goldstone even gets a whole song dedicated to him.

“He doesn’t say anything, but he brings laughter to the scene,” said the anonymous reader, who has seen the play several times.

“His face is so expressive. In fact, his whole body is expressive. He makes it funny just by the way he moves,” she said.
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Another cast member who has received less than adequate attention is Julie Bryson (the adult Baby June), who may suffer from being too competent.

A trained dancer and a veteran of other shows, she tosses off dance riffs and sings so effortlessly, and so well, it is easy to lose sight of the work that has gone into her training and preparation.

A real pro, she arrives on time. Has her lines and songs down. Gets better each time. Causes no trouble and keeps quiet about it.

The result is a well-acted character and probably the best single number in the play: “If Mamma Got Married” which has been mentioned here several times.

Now it is Sunday with a matinee looming. And only three more performances after that. Things will be getting hectic.

As "Gypsy" passes the half-way mark of it's nine-performance run, it is more than pleasant to learn that vaudeville still lives

See this New York Times article about the new (old) playwrights and illusionist Ricky Jay's show about how "showbusiness, crime and commerce" intersect just off Broadway:

Playwrights