Margaret's career — can't start too early.

Today Margaret and I went up to Sydney for the National Institute of Dramatic Art's Open Day. I had been a little surprised that they only have it once every two years, but once we got there and I saw how elaborate it all was, I was less so. We first stopped by a visitor-participation improvisation class for youth (which would be Margaret); I ended up leaving her there to take three more classes in a row (devising a scene, acting per se, and a second improv class) while I wandered around enjoying the atmosphere. I watched a stage-combat class, for example, that was rivetingly interesting: the teacher was actually giving the students principles (balance, body-part isolation, victim-controls-the-action, and a bunch more that I didn't write down but now wish I had), not just giving them a series of moves to mimic. Margaret and I (once she wearied of actually doing some acting) also spent about an hour and a half watching a dance rehearsal, and we were both mesmerized by the teacher's fanatical attention to detail. (That sort of obsession with detail is one of the things I really learned to value in my DC karate school.) Margaret was glad to know that it's part of professional practice at the highest level (and not just for actors, might I add), and a necessary personality attribute for anyone who wants to excel.

We looked at costumes, and set models, and workshops for props and scenery. We listened to roving Shakespearean actors. We chatted with a student or two. We sat in the library for a bit. I bought a bunch of plays at unbelievably low prices at the second-hand book stall.

Sadly, all the people currently in the year-long Playwrights' Studio program were out on a retreat somewhere, with none, nor their teachers, available to chat with me about the program. Sigh. Still, it's a reason to make a phone call or two and set up another trip up to Sydney.

Once Margaret and I were all Open Dayed out, we ate a very passable imitation of New York pizza at a little takeout called, appropriately, New York Slice. It's not the real deal (for one thing, as Margaret pointed out, we did not end up with orange grease dripping down our elbows), but it's far, far closer than we've found anywhere else in Australia. So that was nice.

Then we came home. Margaret is renewed in her career ambitions. I am eager to keep pursuing the playwriting, as theatre is just so much fun. We are both rather tired.