All About Jane ~ Cast, Creative, Crew ~ MultiMedia
This adaptation of "Jane Eyre" was first produced in February - March 2008 at the 45th Street Theatre in New York City. Learn more about the world premiere here.
Jane's Blog
JANE postponed
Due to the present dismal state of the economy, the upcoming production of JANE EYRE has been postponed until December 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Tickets on sale now!
Tickets for the 2009 JANE EYRE production are on sale now at TheaterMania:
http://www.theatermania.com/new-york/shows/jane-eyre_155211/
Tickets are $18 - but only $15 for visitors of this blog! Use discount code WSJE for the lower price.
http://www.theatermania.com/new-york/shows/jane-eyre_155211/
Tickets are $18 - but only $15 for visitors of this blog! Use discount code WSJE for the lower price.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Who is the sexiest Rochester?
This article suggests either Timothy Dalton or William Hurt.
One thing that you must have to do the romance between Jane and Rochester right is explained in this statement from the article:
What's so right about Wilson's Jane and Toby Stephens' virile, tormented Rochester is that their mutual erotic charge is matched by the teasing, bantering rapport of intellectual equals.
The teasing and bantering aspect which is in the book, is often completely missing from many adaptations - such as the Polly Teale adaptation.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Charlotte Bronte's retort
Charlotte wrote to her publisher William Smith Williams about a review of JANE EYRE:
...He says 'if "Jane Eyre" be the production of a woman - she must be a woman unsexed.'
In that case the book is an unredeemed error and should be unreservedly condemned. 'Jane Eyre' is a woman's autobiography - by a woman it is professedly written - if it is written as no womn would write - condemn it - with spirit and decision - as it is bad - but do not first eulogise and then detract. I am reminded of the 'Economist.' The literary critic of that paper praised the book if written by a man - and pronounced it 'odious' if the work of a woman.
To such critics I would say - 'To you I am neither Man nor Woman - I come before you as an Author only - it is the sole standard by which you have a right to judge me - the sole ground on which I accept your judgment.'
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Jane quotation of the day
Rochester:
Paid subordinates! What! you are my paid subordinate, are you? Oh yes, I had forgotten the salary! Well then, on that mercenary ground, will you agree to let me hector a little? Most things free-born will submit to anything for a salary; therefore, keep to yourself, and don't venture on generalities of which you are intensely ignorant. However, I mentally shake hands with you for your answer, despite its inaccuracy; and as much for the manner in which it was said, as for the substance of the speech; the manner was frank and sincere; one does not often see such a manner. No, on the contrary, affectation, or coldness, or stupid, coarse-minded misapprehension of one's meaning are the usual rewards of candour. Not three in three thousand raw school-girl-governesses would have answered me as you have just done. But I don't mean to flatter you: if you are cast in a different mould to the majority, it is no merit of yours: Nature did it. And then, after all, I go too fast in my conclusions: for what I yet know, you may be no better than the rest; you may have intolerable defects to counterbalance your few good points. I have plenty of faults of my own, of course -- I know it, and I don't wish to palliate them, I assure you. God wot I need not be too severe about others; I have a past existence, a series of deeds, a colour of life to contemplate within my own breast, which might well call my sneers and censures from my neighbours to myself. I started, or rather (for like other defaulters, I like to lay half the blame on ill fortune and adverse circumstances) was thrust on to a wrong tack at the age of one-and-twenty, and have never recovered the right course since: but I might have been very different; I might have been as good as you -- wiser -- almost as stainless. I envy you your peace of mind, your clean conscience, your unpolluted memory. Little girl, a memory without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure -- an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment: is it not? I was your equal at eighteen -- quite your equal. Nature meant me to be, on the whole, a good man, Miss Eyre; one of the better kind, and you see I am not so. You would say you don't see it; at least I flatter myself I read as much in your eye (beware, by-the-bye, what you express with that organ; I am quick at interpreting its language). Then take my word for it, -- I am not a villain: you are not to suppose that -- not to attribute to me any such bad eminence; but, owing, I verily believe, rather to circumstances than to my natural bent, I am a trite commonplace sinner, hackneyed in all the poor petty dissipations with which the rich and worthless try to put on life. Do you wonder that I avow this to you? Know, that in the course of your future life you will often find yourself elected the involuntary confidant of your acquaintances' secrets: people will instinctively find out, as I have done, that it is not your forte to tell of yourself, but to listen while others talk of themselves; they will feel, too, that you listen with no malevolent scorn of their indiscretion, but with a kind of innate sympathy; not the less comforting and encouraging because it is very unobtrusive in its manifestations. I know it well; therefore I proceed almost as freely as if I were writing my thoughts in a diary. You would say, I should have been superior to circumstances; so I should -- so I should; but you see I was not. When fate wronged me, I had not the wisdom to remain cool: I turned desperate; then I degenerated. Now, when any vicious simpleton excites my disgust by his paltry ribaldry, I cannot flatter myself that I am better than he: I am forced to confess that he and I are on a level. I wish I had stood firm -- God knows I do! Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre; remorse is the poison of life.
Paid subordinates! What! you are my paid subordinate, are you? Oh yes, I had forgotten the salary! Well then, on that mercenary ground, will you agree to let me hector a little? Most things free-born will submit to anything for a salary; therefore, keep to yourself, and don't venture on generalities of which you are intensely ignorant. However, I mentally shake hands with you for your answer, despite its inaccuracy; and as much for the manner in which it was said, as for the substance of the speech; the manner was frank and sincere; one does not often see such a manner. No, on the contrary, affectation, or coldness, or stupid, coarse-minded misapprehension of one's meaning are the usual rewards of candour. Not three in three thousand raw school-girl-governesses would have answered me as you have just done. But I don't mean to flatter you: if you are cast in a different mould to the majority, it is no merit of yours: Nature did it. And then, after all, I go too fast in my conclusions: for what I yet know, you may be no better than the rest; you may have intolerable defects to counterbalance your few good points. I have plenty of faults of my own, of course -- I know it, and I don't wish to palliate them, I assure you. God wot I need not be too severe about others; I have a past existence, a series of deeds, a colour of life to contemplate within my own breast, which might well call my sneers and censures from my neighbours to myself. I started, or rather (for like other defaulters, I like to lay half the blame on ill fortune and adverse circumstances) was thrust on to a wrong tack at the age of one-and-twenty, and have never recovered the right course since: but I might have been very different; I might have been as good as you -- wiser -- almost as stainless. I envy you your peace of mind, your clean conscience, your unpolluted memory. Little girl, a memory without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure -- an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment: is it not? I was your equal at eighteen -- quite your equal. Nature meant me to be, on the whole, a good man, Miss Eyre; one of the better kind, and you see I am not so. You would say you don't see it; at least I flatter myself I read as much in your eye (beware, by-the-bye, what you express with that organ; I am quick at interpreting its language). Then take my word for it, -- I am not a villain: you are not to suppose that -- not to attribute to me any such bad eminence; but, owing, I verily believe, rather to circumstances than to my natural bent, I am a trite commonplace sinner, hackneyed in all the poor petty dissipations with which the rich and worthless try to put on life. Do you wonder that I avow this to you? Know, that in the course of your future life you will often find yourself elected the involuntary confidant of your acquaintances' secrets: people will instinctively find out, as I have done, that it is not your forte to tell of yourself, but to listen while others talk of themselves; they will feel, too, that you listen with no malevolent scorn of their indiscretion, but with a kind of innate sympathy; not the less comforting and encouraging because it is very unobtrusive in its manifestations. I know it well; therefore I proceed almost as freely as if I were writing my thoughts in a diary. You would say, I should have been superior to circumstances; so I should -- so I should; but you see I was not. When fate wronged me, I had not the wisdom to remain cool: I turned desperate; then I degenerated. Now, when any vicious simpleton excites my disgust by his paltry ribaldry, I cannot flatter myself that I am better than he: I am forced to confess that he and I are on a level. I wish I had stood firm -- God knows I do! Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre; remorse is the poison of life.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Jane quotation of the day
Reader, though I look comfortably accommodated, I am not very tranquil in my mind. I thought when the coach stopped here there would be some one to meet me; I looked anxiously round as I descended the wooden steps the 'boots' placed for my convenience, expecting to hear my name pronounced, and to see some description of carriage waiting to convey me to Thornfield. Nothing of the sort was visible; and when I asked a waiter if any one had been to inquire after a Miss Eyre, I was answered in the negative: so I had no resource but to request to be shown into a private room: and here I am waiting, while all sorts of doubts and fears are troubling my thoughts.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Katherine Hepburn as Jane Eyre?
Apparently Katherine Hepburn was in a stage production of JANE EYRE early in her career.
another production photo at Bronteana
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Wuthering Heights
A cover of Kate Bush's song "Wuthering Heights" which is based on Emily Bronte's novel, by brilliant musician and total cutie Kris Shred.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Poems, by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell
Currer, Ellis and Acton were the deliberately masculine-sounding pen names chosen by Charlotte, Emily and Anne Bronte, respectively.
They can be read here.
Here is a poem by Charlotte:
STANZAS.
If thou be in a lonely place,
If one hour's calm be thine,
As Evening bends her placid face
O'er this sweet day's decline;
If all the earth and all the heaven
Now look serene to thee,
As o'er them shuts the summer even,
One moment—think of me!
Pause, in the lane, returning home;
'Tis dusk, it will be still:
Pause near the elm, a sacred gloom
Its breezeless boughs will fill.
Look at that soft and golden light,
High in the unclouded sky;
Watch the last bird's belated flight,
As it flits silent by.
Hark! for a sound upon the wind,
A step, a voice, a sigh;
If all be still, then yield thy mind,
Unchecked, to memory.
If thy love were like mine, how blest
That twilight hour would seem,
When, back from the regretted Past,
Returned our early dream!
If thy love were like mine, how wild
Thy longings, even to pain,
For sunset soft, and moonlight mild,
To bring that hour again!
But oft, when in thine arms I lay,
I've seen thy dark eyes shine,
And deeply felt their changeful ray
Spoke other love than mine.
My love is almost anguish now,
It beats so strong and true;
'Twere rapture, could I deem that thou
Such anguish ever knew.
I have been but thy transient flower,
Thou wert my god divine;
Till checked by death's congealing power,
This heart must throb for thine.
And well my dying hour were blest,
If life's expiring breath
Should pass, as thy lips gently prest
My forehead cold in death;
And sound my sleep would be, and sweet,
Beneath the churchyard tree,
If sometimes in thy heart should beat
One pulse, still true to me.
They can be read here.
Here is a poem by Charlotte:
STANZAS.
If thou be in a lonely place,
If one hour's calm be thine,
As Evening bends her placid face
O'er this sweet day's decline;
If all the earth and all the heaven
Now look serene to thee,
As o'er them shuts the summer even,
One moment—think of me!
Pause, in the lane, returning home;
'Tis dusk, it will be still:
Pause near the elm, a sacred gloom
Its breezeless boughs will fill.
Look at that soft and golden light,
High in the unclouded sky;
Watch the last bird's belated flight,
As it flits silent by.
Hark! for a sound upon the wind,
A step, a voice, a sigh;
If all be still, then yield thy mind,
Unchecked, to memory.
If thy love were like mine, how blest
That twilight hour would seem,
When, back from the regretted Past,
Returned our early dream!
If thy love were like mine, how wild
Thy longings, even to pain,
For sunset soft, and moonlight mild,
To bring that hour again!
But oft, when in thine arms I lay,
I've seen thy dark eyes shine,
And deeply felt their changeful ray
Spoke other love than mine.
My love is almost anguish now,
It beats so strong and true;
'Twere rapture, could I deem that thou
Such anguish ever knew.
I have been but thy transient flower,
Thou wert my god divine;
Till checked by death's congealing power,
This heart must throb for thine.
And well my dying hour were blest,
If life's expiring breath
Should pass, as thy lips gently prest
My forehead cold in death;
And sound my sleep would be, and sweet,
Beneath the churchyard tree,
If sometimes in thy heart should beat
One pulse, still true to me.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Jane Eyre fan fiction
Fans of the novel "Jane Eyre" write their own Jane-related stories here.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
JANE EYRE 2009 - Opens July 18 2009
MERGATROYD PRODUCTIONS announces its 2009 production of JANE EYRE opening July 18 2009.
The show will be performed at the Penny Templeton Studio for 12 performances from July 18 to August 9 2009. Watch this space for more information.
The show will be performed at the Penny Templeton Studio for 12 performances from July 18 to August 9 2009. Watch this space for more information.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
who will be playing mr rochester in jane eyre 2009?
The title of this post is a query seen more and more frequently from visitors to this web site. Most likely they are not asking about our upcoming theatre production of Jane Eyre but rather the planned movie starring Ellen Page, which was reported by the Bronte Blog and others back last May and there's been hardly a peep about it since then.Finding the perfect Rochester may be even more difficult than finding the right Jane. He has to be attractive but not classically handsome; gruff and masculine but sensitive; and able to laugh as well as brood.
So who will play Rochester for the new movie? Nobody knows yet. Here is a list of men who have played him in past movies and television series.
But what about this production? Our JANE EYRE 2008 Rochester, Greg Oliver Bodine, will not be playing the role again for Mergatroyd Productions and so the search is on. Who indeed will be playing Mr. Rochester in JANE EYRE 2009? Time and auditions will tell.
Monday, February 16, 2009
upcoming announcement
Stay tuned - news about Mergatroyd Productions 2009 JANE EYRE - new dates, the venue, discount code, etc. - coming soon.
Short plays by NG McClernan
STRESS AND THE CITY, eight 10-minute plays by N. G. McClernan, the author of this adaptation of "Jane Eyre" is currently playing in New York.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
from Villette
No mockery in this world ever sounds to me so hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness. What does such advice mean? Happiness is not a potato.- from Charlotte Bronte's Villette
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Charlotte Bronte on Rochester and Heathcliff
Mr. Rochester has a thoughtful nature and a very feeling heart; he is neither selfish nor self-indulgent; he is ill-educated, misguided, errs, when he does err, through rashness and inexperience: he lives for a time as too many other men live - but being radically better than most men he does not like that degraded life, and is never happy in it. He is taught the severe lessons of Experience and has sense to learn wisdom from them - years improve him - the effervescence of youth foamed away, what is really good in him remains - his nature is like wine of a good vintage, time cannot sour - but only mellows him. Such at least was the character I meant to pourtray.
Heathcliff, again, of 'Wuthering Heights' is quite another creation. He exemplifies the effects which a life of continued injustice and hard usage may produce on a naturally perverse, vindictive and inexorable disposition. Carefully trained and kindly reared, the black gipsy-cub might possibly have been reared into a human being, but tyranny and ignorance made of him a mere demon. The worst of it is, some of his spirit seems breathed through the whole narrative in which he figures: it haunts every moore and glen, and beckons in every fir-tree of the 'Heights.'
- August 14, 1848
Heathcliff, again, of 'Wuthering Heights' is quite another creation. He exemplifies the effects which a life of continued injustice and hard usage may produce on a naturally perverse, vindictive and inexorable disposition. Carefully trained and kindly reared, the black gipsy-cub might possibly have been reared into a human being, but tyranny and ignorance made of him a mere demon. The worst of it is, some of his spirit seems breathed through the whole narrative in which he figures: it haunts every moore and glen, and beckons in every fir-tree of the 'Heights.'
- August 14, 1848
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Happy New Year from Charlotte Bronte
From her letter to Ellen Nussey, January 1, 1833;
Accept my congratulations on the arrival of the 'New Year' every succeeding day of which will I trust find you wiser and better in the true sense of those much-used words. The first day of January always presents to my mind a train of very solemn and important reflections and a question more easily asked than answered frequently occurs viz: How have I improved the past year and with good intentions do I view the dawn of its successor? these my dearest Ellen are weighty considerations which (young as we are) neither you nor I can too deeply or too seriously ponder...
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Is "Jane Eyre" the sexiest book ever written?
Asks The Daily Mail:
He pouts, broods and beats his way into our hearts, riding around the moors in leather boots and furry coats, looking ripe for rescue by our Jane.
He is clever, tortured and besotted, and Jane follows him around the house and calls him 'Sir' and 'Master' in scenes which, if I were not so well bred, I would consider rude.
A typical one goes like this: "You examine me, Miss Eyre," said he. "Do you find me handsome?" Jane has a ponder and comes back (no pushover she): "No, Sir".
It's a struggle, a battle, an epic; and when he finally declares his love to her (after naughtily pretending he was going to marry someone else), a tree gets struck by lightning in the garden. (This doesn't happen in my love-life, although I dearly wish it would). But ? and most people forget this ? Jane Eyre is a fantasy too rich for one hero. Charlotte wrote us two.
After she leaves Thornfield (to nearly die of exposure), she meets St John Rivers, who is later revealed to be her cousin. (In some ways, Jane Eyre is a lot like Dynasty.)
St John is a prim, sexy blond. (She probably cut a third hero, a red-head this time, from an early draft.) And, sometimes - particularly on winter Sunday afternoons - I find him more beguiling even than Rochester.
St John is a priest - a "cold hard man" he tells Jane - but he falls for Jane like an orange rolling off a fridge. She fancies him, too, watching him admire a picture of a beautiful girl and drooling: "He breathed low and fast; I stood silent."
That's two-love to lonely Miss Bronte. How spoilt she was in her head. But it's back to Rochester and his marvellous flaws, and the beautiful cry: "Reader," - say it with me - "I married him." Aaah.
That is when I collapse prostrate on the floor, like a piece of toast waiting for some Rochester-flavoured jam.
In Rochester, Charlotte wrote a hero no real man can ever touch. Jane Eyre should be subtitled Revenge Of The Parson's Daughter because she spoilt real love for us all.
He is the man in every film, book or TV series you ever wanted; the dark darling you can save from himself. Plus Thorn-field would be fab to redecorate.
And Jane is so ordinary, "poor, obscure, plain and little", that anyone could get him. He chucks the glamourous beauty Blanche for Jane. He falls, like a god, into our laps.
What about Jane Austen, you may squeak. What about Pride And Prejudice? Shaddap is my answer. Charlotte herself sneered that Jane Austen "ruffles her readers with nothing vehement" (ouch!) and tidy Miss Austen is a pastel to Bronte's lustrous crimson.
She's John Lewis to Charlotte's Selfridges. Who wants to hear about the city of Bath when you can have the wilds of Yorkshire? Who wants drippy Darcy ? a man so wet you could do backstroke in him ? when you can have Rochester and Rivers?
So Jane Eyre isn't the first book in the canon of love-starved fantasy. It is the canon. The only thing I can say against it is that it is indirectly responsible for Dame Barbara Cartland getting published.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Jane Eyre & the Yankees?
References to "Jane Eyre" can show up in the most surprising places:
more, if you're into baseball, here
Here is my column on the Yankees. I do think it's stupid how they're essentially hiding Phil Hughes and Ian Kennedy in the attic, a la the crazy wife in "Jane Eyre." Why not give them and Alfredo Aceves a chance to compete for the fifth starter's job? Bring in some Eric Milton types of the world, too. Let Andy Pettitte go, for now.
more, if you're into baseball, here
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Charlotte Bronte's handiwork set for auction
Described as "unique" by art experts, the cabinet contains four rooms decorated with miniature figures and furniture by the author of Jane Eyre. It was last owned by Roger Warner, the legendary antiques dealer, whose private collection is to be auctioned by Christie's in January.
The "George II grained four-room 'baby' house circa 1750" was redecorated by Bronte in 1839 during her time as a governess for the Sidgwicks, a wealthy family based in Skipton, Yorkshire.
Bronte was deeply unhappy working for the family, who lived in an imposing house known as Stonegappe, which is thought to have provided the inspiration for Gateshead Hall, the house where Jane Eyre's story begins.
Bronte's redecoration of the doll's house is mentioned in a letter she wrote to her sister, Emily, in June 1839: "I said in my last letter that Mrs [Sidgwick] did not know me. I now begin to find she does not intend to know me; that she cares nothing about me, except to contrive how the greatest possible quantity of labour may be got out of me; and to that end she overwhelms me with oceans of needlework; yards of cambric to hem, muslin night-caps to make, and, above all things, dolls to dress."
more at The Telegraph
The "George II grained four-room 'baby' house circa 1750" was redecorated by Bronte in 1839 during her time as a governess for the Sidgwicks, a wealthy family based in Skipton, Yorkshire.
Bronte was deeply unhappy working for the family, who lived in an imposing house known as Stonegappe, which is thought to have provided the inspiration for Gateshead Hall, the house where Jane Eyre's story begins.
Bronte's redecoration of the doll's house is mentioned in a letter she wrote to her sister, Emily, in June 1839: "I said in my last letter that Mrs [Sidgwick] did not know me. I now begin to find she does not intend to know me; that she cares nothing about me, except to contrive how the greatest possible quantity of labour may be got out of me; and to that end she overwhelms me with oceans of needlework; yards of cambric to hem, muslin night-caps to make, and, above all things, dolls to dress."
more at The Telegraph
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Jane quotation of the day
"Jane! Jane!" he said, in such an accent of bitter sadness it thrilled along every nerve I had; "you don't love me, then? It was only my station, and the rank of my wife, that you valued? Now that you think me disqualified to become your husband, you recoil from my touch as if I were some toad or ape."
These words cut me: yet what could I do or I say? I ought probably to have done or said nothing; but I was so tortured by a sense of remorse at thus hurting his feelings, I could not control the wish to drop balm where I had wounded.
"I _do_ love you," I said, "more than ever: but I must not show or indulge the feeling: and this is the last time I must express it."
"The last time, Jane! What! do you think you can live with me, and see me daily, and yet, if you still love me, be always cold and distant?"
"No, sir; that I am certain I could not; and therefore I see there is but one way: but you will be furious if I mention it."
"Oh, mention it! If I storm, you have the art of weeping."
"Mr. Rochester, I must leave you."
"For how long, Jane? For a few minutes, while you smooth your hair--which is somewhat dishevelled; and bathe your face--which looks feverish?"
"I must leave Adele and Thornfield. I must part with you for my whole life: I must begin a new existence among strange faces and strange scenes."
"Of course: I told you you should. I pass over the madness about parting from me. You mean you must become a part of me. As to the new existence, it is all right: you shall yet be my wife: I am not married. You shall be Mrs. Rochester--both virtually and nominally. I shall keep only to you so long as you and I live. You shall go to a place I have in the south of France: a whitewashed villa on the shores of the Mediterranean. There you shall live a happy, and guarded, and most innocent life. Never fear that I wish to lure you into error--to make you my mistress. Why did you shake your head? Jane, you must be reasonable, or in truth I shall again become frantic."
These words cut me: yet what could I do or I say? I ought probably to have done or said nothing; but I was so tortured by a sense of remorse at thus hurting his feelings, I could not control the wish to drop balm where I had wounded.
"I _do_ love you," I said, "more than ever: but I must not show or indulge the feeling: and this is the last time I must express it."
"The last time, Jane! What! do you think you can live with me, and see me daily, and yet, if you still love me, be always cold and distant?"
"No, sir; that I am certain I could not; and therefore I see there is but one way: but you will be furious if I mention it."
"Oh, mention it! If I storm, you have the art of weeping."
"Mr. Rochester, I must leave you."
"For how long, Jane? For a few minutes, while you smooth your hair--which is somewhat dishevelled; and bathe your face--which looks feverish?"
"I must leave Adele and Thornfield. I must part with you for my whole life: I must begin a new existence among strange faces and strange scenes."
"Of course: I told you you should. I pass over the madness about parting from me. You mean you must become a part of me. As to the new existence, it is all right: you shall yet be my wife: I am not married. You shall be Mrs. Rochester--both virtually and nominally. I shall keep only to you so long as you and I live. You shall go to a place I have in the south of France: a whitewashed villa on the shores of the Mediterranean. There you shall live a happy, and guarded, and most innocent life. Never fear that I wish to lure you into error--to make you my mistress. Why did you shake your head? Jane, you must be reasonable, or in truth I shall again become frantic."
Thursday, December 4, 2008
JANE EYRE December 21 reading cast
In addition to Jason Alan Griffin and Phoebe Bluesky Summersquash, these actors will be performing in the Dec. 21 reading:
Bruce Barton, who was in the 2008 world premiere of this adaptation, will reprise the roles of Brocklehurst, Rev. Wood, Briggs & Villager
Ann Farthing will play Mrs. Fairfax & Aunt Reed
Pat Angelin will play Blanche Ingram, Antoinette Mason, Grace Poole & French Mistress
Jonathan Alexandratos will play St. John Rivers, Richard Mason, Robert & Tom
More info on this reading soon.
Bruce Barton, who was in the 2008 world premiere of this adaptation, will reprise the roles of Brocklehurst, Rev. Wood, Briggs & Villager
Ann Farthing will play Mrs. Fairfax & Aunt Reed
Pat Angelin will play Blanche Ingram, Antoinette Mason, Grace Poole & French Mistress
Jonathan Alexandratos will play St. John Rivers, Richard Mason, Robert & Tom
More info on this reading soon.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Jason & Phoebe
Phoebe Summersquash has agreed to play Jane and Jason Alan Griffin has agreed to play Rochester in the upcoming December 21 reading of JANE EYRE which will be at the Penny Templeton Studio, 261 W. 35th Street
You can watch Jason's reel here (watch out, there's a sexy scene in the mix).
And the Philly band Scary Monster asks the musical question Do You Like Phoebe Summersquash? And yes, they really mean our gal - but then, how many Phoebe Summersquashes do YOU know?
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
JANE EYRE reading
Mergatroyd Productions is gearing up for JANE EYRE 2009. We will be doing a staged reading of the JANE EYRE script from last year's February 2008 production on Sunday, December 21 2008 at the Penny Templeton Studio, 261 W. 35th Street (between 7th & 8th Aves.) at 5PM.
The public is invited. We will have more information soon on this web site about cast, how to reserve seats, etc.
The public is invited. We will have more information soon on this web site about cast, how to reserve seats, etc.
Monday, November 17, 2008
One-Woman Show - Charlotte Bronte
Prudence Edwards does the voiceover for the popular children's doll in Mattel's 'Barbie in a Christmas Carol' – then a Lancaster audience will see Prudence in a totally different role when she plays legendary author Charlotte Bronte in her one-woman show at the Gregson Centre.'Watch Her Now, An Evening with Charlotte Bronte', gives the audience a glimpse into the genius mind of Charlotte, through her personal letters, haunting poems and descriptive passages of Jane Eyre.
The show is in Lancaster, UK
More at The Visitor
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Subscribe to
Posts [Atom]