There is a point in rehearsal when everyone begins to suspect the play may be terrible. The actors have learned enough of it to recognize the problems but not enough to disguise them. The director’s early confidence has become oddly specific: “Let’s try entering two beats sooner.” The playwright sits in the corner pretending to make useful notes while privately wondering whether a different profession might still be possible. [more]

Every rehearsal room contains at least one imposter. Usually, it's everyone. Actors worry they've been miscast. Directors wonder if they have any idea what they're doing. Designers fear their best work is behind them. Playwrights sit quietly, convinced that sooner or later everyone will discover that the script was a lucky accident. [more]

The distance between the page and the rehearsal room is one of the most fascinating aspects of theatre. A script is not a finished artwork in the same way a novel is. It is a set of instructions, possibilities, provocations, and questions. Rehearsal is where those possibilities are tested against living bodies, voices, space, and time. [more]