On the scene with a Merry musical

Upstage right, a mechanical lift hoists a crew member high above the set. Center stage, girls wearing petticoats over jeans waltz with guys with shirts tucked in. Baritone opera voices boom out from the tape deck on the left wing. The music abruptly stops as director Kelly Newman calls out, "Last time, from the top, this is for the Tony—1, 2, 3, 4."

Beneath the chaos of the daily rehearsals for this spring's production of Franz Lehar's operetta The Merry Widow, the stories of the performers themselves unfold.

Stage fright

Senior Tekle Ghebremeschel casually leans against the edge of the stage, his dashing good looks enhanced by a huge afro wig and a pair of ridiculously retro sunglasses. Though the butt of jokes from fellow cast members, Ghebremeschel innocently pretends he has no idea what they are talking about.

Ghebremeschel is right at home in Blair's thespian circle, even though acting is a role he just picked up this year. He earned small parts in last fall's Pericles and in the student-directed one-act plays. "And now I'm the lead," he says. "I am scared to death."

In The Merry Widow, Ghebre-meschel stars as playboy prince Danilo. The comedy is set in a small European country called Marsovia, where the people are desperately trying to stop a rich widow, Sonia (senior Audrey Tornblom), from marrying a foreigner. Danilo, prince of Marsovia, is sent to seduce and marry Sonia, ensuring that her wealth stays within the country.

Ghebremeschel puts the plot in simpler terms: "Guy meets girl, they fall in love, and [they] live happily ever after," he says.

Although he jokes around at rehearsal, Ghebremeschel is a bundle of nerves on the inside. "If I forget my lines," he says, "I will run off the stage screaming like a little girl."

Backstage romance

During rehearsals, romance is not restricted to Danilo's courtship of Sonia. "I tell my friends that it's a great place to meet women," says junior Chris Fitzgerald with a sly smile. "Really, it's all precious flirt time."

Fitzgerald has a point. Junior Tony Coello and senior Gabriela Pires met during Blair's West Side Story last spring and have been going out ever since.

"I said that in the movie [West Side Story], Bernardo was really ugly," says Pires, reminiscing about the day she met Coello.

"I told her I was playing Bernardo," Coello explains.

"And I was like, ‘You look just like Bernardo!'" says Pires, laughing.

"She called me ugly! That's the first thing she said to me, and I'll never, ever forget it," Coello rants, but he's smiling.

"Sometimes, I try and imagine what would have happened if I hadn't auditioned for West Side Story," says Coello. "I wouldn't have met Gabby. Where would I be today?"

Originally, Coello did not even audition to be in The Merry Widow. "But I told him, it's my last year, and it would be really cool if we were in it together," explains Pires, "so he's doing this for me."

To be or not to be

While Coello and Pires waltz, senior Roberto Melendez sits in the audience, talking to himself. "I'm memorizing Hamlet's ‘To be or not to be' speech for my own pleasure," he explains, slightly embarrassed. "I'm just that much of a Shakespearean freak."

After a little goading from Coello, Melendez begins to recite the monologue with perfect emotions and gestures. Halfway through, he fades off with an apologetic, "That's all I can remember."

Although he's now reciting Shakespeare as if he was born speaking the Bard's language, Melendez emigrated from El Salvador only three years ago knowing little English.

Melendez's first onstage appearance came in last spring's West Side Story, in which he played Chino. "Ms. Newman was my English teacher, and she told me I would be great in West Side Story, so there I was in West Side Story—killing people," he says.

"Weren't you trying to memorize Hamlet last year in West Side Story?" Coello asks, confused and impressed.

"No, no," corrects Melendez, "that was Macbeth."

Acting helps Melendez come out of his shell. "I'm really secluded most of the time. Being in the play made me develop more of my vocal skills," he says. "It's also that feeling of being in a group."

Melendez looks up as stage crew director John Kaluta calls for help. He politely excuses himself then jogs across the auditorium to help Kaluta move a half-finished wooden staircase. With Coello's help, he sweeps up the residue of sawdust left behind. Admiring a job well done, Melendez smiles to Coello: "Th-th-th-that's all folks!"

If you can can-can

But the can-can girls, Danilo's designated groupies in the play, are far from done choreographing their show-stopping dance number. They jump at the opportunity to gain full use of the stage and are hard at work arguing.

"That's eight counts of dancing, but it doesn't match up with the song," junior Elise Harvey is saying.

"It doesn't have to match up perfectly," junior Lillie Rosen shoots back.
"But something isn't working!" says Harvey, frustrated.

Ghebremeschel, who is lounging offstage watching the can-can girls, decides to throw in his two cents. "They want to get it perfect for me. They're my girls," he says with a mischievous smile. "More dancing, less talking."

Harvey readily agrees. "Dancing with them is fine, but they never shut up," she says of her fellow can-can dancers. "As far as all of us talking and figuring out steps, it's pretty much chaos. We have 13 girls with 13 different opinions on how things should look." When the dancers finally get the steps right, however, it's all smiles and cheers.

Stolen kisses, forgotten lines and petty arguments aside, the weeks of hard work all come down to the performance. Senior Lilah Shreeve, a can-can dancer appearing in her fourth and final performance in a Blair musical, sums up the experience. "No matter what you're singing, whether you're in it for one second or you're the lead, it's all about the performance," she says. "There's definitely something about it that we love and keeps us coming back."

The Merry Widow performs at 7:30 p.m. on April 30, May 1, 7 and 8 and at 2:00 p.m. on May 2.