As observed for The Lexington Theatre Company by Kevin Lane Dearinger
Matthew Amira and the Company of White Christmas. Photo by Chloe Bradley.
Ring the bells and deck the halls! Bundle up for the holidays and rejoice!
The Lexington Theatre Company is reviving its deliciously-peppy production of Irving Berlin’s White Christmas, the show that charmed, thrilled, and moved Lexington audiences in 2023.
And rehearsals are in full gallop.
Rehearsals always—should always—start with a pep talk. A welcome speech that sets out what is about to happen and how fast it will have to happen. A setting of goals.
A pep talk.
Pep?
What a funny word!
It is fair to say, however, that The Lex is reliably full of, yup, that’s the word—pep!
That certainly goes for the first morning of rehearsals.
That Day-One energy sets a rapid pace for White Christmas rehearsals which will transfer to the Lexington Opera House, and then carry the show on a happy tide through tech, opening, a too-short run, and a teary, too-soon closing.
Rehearsals are meet-and-greets, reunions, discoveries, workouts, emotional carousels, saunas, village festivals, masterclasses, group therapy, and, okay, pep rallies.
The Company of White Christmas. Photo by Chloe Bradley.
Some of the actors are new to White Christmas, some are old hands, and some are familiar faces at The Lex but new to the holiday classic. In a matter of days—long days, loaded weeks—the company of twenty-four talented performers, as well as the costume, music, prop, set design, lighting, sound, and backstage crews will work together to create an unforgettable theatrical experience. There might be moments of frustration to shrug off and moments of bewilderment to move past, but more often rehearsals yield astonishing communal moments of “Ah-ha, that’s what we are working for!”
There will be “pep.”
As always, director Lyndy Franklin Smith comes to rehearsal meticulously prepared. She brings the poise of her training as dancer, as well as the insight and patience of a theatrical pro who directs with a sure hand. After welcoming the company (with pep), Lyndy conducts one-on-one sessions with each principal actor, exploring character and motivation, pace and nuance, and the arc of story-telling. It’s groundwork that will pay off later. “Table-readings” of major scenes follow, helping the actors relax with their dialogue and each other. Lyndy watches every detail. If there is a problem, she fixes it. Her rehearsals are crafted to be fast-paced and meticulous. They are joyous, if sweaty, and fulfilling.
Choreographer and human firecracker Mary Giatinno is back at The Lex to recreate Randy Skinner’s iconic dances—lots of tap, swirls of ballroom, waves of energy. She is a wonder. “Even when I am not dancing,” she admits, “I’m full-out.” (That’s pep, folks!)
She starts with a few basic steps, noting that “the hands should catch the wonderful light” and that every move is about “style, style, style.” An impromptu tutorial on period dancing, with emphasis on deceptively simple arm movements, is one of many master-class excursions that Mary will offer. She promises “hard work” and time for a bit of fun. Her metaphor to describe one set of quick wrist flicks is, uh, unrepeatable in print, but vivid and effective. She stops to compliment her dancers on how well they are doing, and then with a comic twist of the mouth, she adds, “Don’t let it go to your head.”
Mary cautions her ensemble that with limited rehearsal time, every dancer will need to “do their homework.”
It’s The Lex. They’re pros. They will.
Elizabeth McGuire and the Company of White Christmas. Photo by Chloe Bradley.
A stalwart at The Lex—dancer, leading lady, dance captain, choreographer—Elizabeth McGuire is this show’s associate choreographer. She is not just another pair of feet. She is another pair of eyes. She is tireless in tuning up steps and style as Mary moves forward with setting a dance-intensive production.
“Yes, yes, pretty good,” says Mary later in rehearsal, with a lifted eyebrow. “Now, do it again, please.” The studio is full of learning, talent, perspiration, and shared elation.
Musical director extraordinaire Dr. Brock Terry is another fine teacher. He has high expectations for his singers, but his coaching is clear, comforting, and well-informed. Like Lyndy, Mary, and Elizabeth, he is always quietly offering a masterclass. His explanation of a “shadow vowel” is highly useful to any singing actor, and, by the way, has firm roots in the early days of American vaudeville. Dr. Terry’s understanding of vocal production and choral technique is encyclopedic.
Working with the ensemble on “Snow,” Brock reminds them to “Count your jings.” Working with younger members of the company on the same catchy tune, Brock suddenly decides to have them “lay out on the jing-jings.” The young and old-er, they all know what he means. “Jing-jing” is now part of their White Christmas vocabulary.
Brock’s “jing-jings” comment is one of many rehearsal remarks that give clear guidance to the cast, even if they might defy understanding out of context:
“With this show, if you don’t know a waltz clog, your future may be very grim.”
“Can you fa-lap downstage here?” (With comic incredulity.) “Can. I. Fa-Lap. Down-Staaaage?”
“You’re going to have to summon up supernatural help for that note.”
“No enhancement. This step is black coffee. No Splenda.”
“It’s not over. This number has four more endings.”
“Now listen, cha-all, it’s not quite a schwa.”
“If you don’t find the fire, then zzzzzz!”
“Inside people to the left. Outside people to the right.”
“Irish. Eye-rish.”
“You don’t know who Ed Sullivan is, do you?” (Mature eye roll.)
“It’s a Care-Bear Stare.”
The Company of White Christmas. Photo by Chloe Bradley.
Meanwhile, there is no movement more distinctive than the waddle of dancers trying to walk silently in tap shoes. But, oh, the promise of that waddle. What thrills to come!
In early rehearsals, principal performers can seem isolated from the ensemble, each learning its steps and patterns and harmonies in separate studios. But there comes a day for an “integration rehearsal,” a magnificent joining of forces. For the first time, the ensemble hears the principals sing, and the principals see what all that shuffle-slap kerfuffle was in the next-door studio. The excitement is always extraordinary. “Oh,” thinks every adrenalin-soaring soul in the room, “We are going to have a great show.” It’s a nice feeling.
Stacie Bono, Matthew Amira, Cory Lingner, Molly Rushing, and the Company of White Christmas. Photo by Chloe Bradley.
Charismatic Matthew Amira is back to play Bob Wallace again, bringing his triple-threat expertise and easy-going charm; he is a soulful singer, a dapper dancer, and an always truthful actor. Matching Matt’s sincerity, beautiful Stacie Bono is new to The Lex, here to play Betty Haynes, the role first played by Kentucky-born Rosemary Clooney; Stacie’s personality echoes Clooney’s warm-hearted appeal but her voice is in its own category of glory. Molly Rushing (returning as Judy Haynes) and Cory Lingner (this production’s Phil Davis) rehearse as if they have been playing a three-a-day gig at the Palace for the last six years; with strong rapport and impressive teamwork, they are a wonderful throwback to the era of the romantic dance duo. Jennifer Roth, a Lexington favorite, is Martha, the charmingly blunt housekeeper, and Betty Harden is Susan, the everything-but-toe-shoes show-bizzy granddaughter to Broadway-and-Lex-veteran Gregory North’s dignified General Waverly. The Lex has a knack for finding great “character” men; Alex Mansoori’s Ralph Sheldrake creates a wonderfully funny comic turn. Karyn Czar, Tim X Davis, and Wesley Byers are offering strong support, and The Lex ensemble, as always, glows with talent.
Rehearsal time always ticks down to that moment when there is a paying audience, but before that stomach-jangling night arrives (“jing-jing”), there are other “audiences.”
At times, performers work to please the creative staff, repeating and polishing every move and note to win approval from the director, choreographer, and musical director. Like second-graders who love their teachers.
At other times, they perform for their colleagues, seeking common ground, offering support, and bolstering each other as they adjust to the demands of fast-learning.
And, quietly, they perform for themselves, testing skills, measuring progress, stretching brain-memory, trusting muscle-memory, worrying, and purring somewhere deep inside when things go well. It’s a mixture of neediness and self-assurance. It’s how the collective art of the theatre is created.
Also pep. And lots of it.
The Lexington Theatre Company’s production of Irving Berlin’s White Christmas plays the Lexington Opera House for six performances, November 19-22.
Kevin Lane Dearinger is a retired actor, singer, and teacher. His published works include At the Lexington Opera House: a Scrapbook 1887-2026, four theatre histories, six poetry books, six plays, and two memoirs, Bad Sex in Kentucky and On Stage with Bette Davis: Inside the Fabulous Flop of Miss Moffat. For many years, he sang out to the back row, acted from the bottom of his heart, and danced, as one astute critic put it, “with athletic grace.” In his soul, he still does all three. He counts among his blessings the privilege of sitting in on rehearsals with The Lexington Theatre Company and is grateful to all the Lex Fam who came out to support him at the Kentucky Book Festival.
