I hope they get here before it starts to rain. No vases to hold them? All right, I'll hold them myself - And then I - met your father ! Malaria fever and jonquils and then - this - boy. Whenever, wherever I saw them, I'd say, "Stop ! Stop! I see jonquils ! I made the young men help me gather the jonquils ! It was a joke, Amanda and her jonquils ! Finally there were no more vases to hold them, every available space was filled with jonquils. Mother said, 'Honey, there's no more room for jonquils.' And still I kept on bringing in more jonquils. All lacy with dogwood, literally flooded with jonquils! - That was the spring I had the craze for jonquils. lovely! - So lovely, that country in May. I took quinine but kept on going, going ! Evenings, dances ! - Afternoons, long, long rides! Picnics. Invitations poured in - parties all over the Delta! - 'Stay in bed,' said mother, 'you have fever!' - but I just wouldn't. The change of climate from East Tennessee to the Delta - weakened resistance I had a little temperature all the time - not enough to be serious - just enough to make me restless and giddy. I wore it on Sundays for my gentlemen callers ! I had it on the day I met your father. This is the dress in which I led the cotillion, won the cakewalk twice at Sunset Hill, wore one spring to the Governor's ball in Jackson ! See how I sashayed around the ballroom, Laura? Something I've resurrected from that old trunk! Styles haven't changed so terribly much after all. Possess your soul in patience - you will see ! I tried to change the tone of the piece to give it more of a range of vocalisation but it took too much away from the words and the meaning of the scene.Amanda Wingfield's Monologue from The Glass Menagerie I wanted to show my vocal skills and this speech didn't have enough alternation in pitch or range so it was all kind of monotone. The main reason for this was because the character required a strong American accent, this was a problem for me and I struggled to get the accent. I liked this monologue but I did not choose to use it as one of my final submissions.
I think the rest of the play will explain itself. This is our father who left us a long time ago.He was a telephone man who fell in love with long distances he gave up his job with the telephone company and skipped the light fantastic out of town.The last we heard of him was a picture postcard from Mazatlan, on the Pacific coast of Mexico, containing a message of two words - 'Hello - Good-bye!' and no address.
There is a fifth character in the play who doesn't appear except in this larger-than-life-size photograph over the mantel. Tom struggles with the memory of his family. The Glass Menagerie, set in the 1930’s, is the memory play of Tom Wingfield, a stand-in for Tennessee Williams.
Scenes and monologues (sides) will be provided. Wednesday, in Chapman Theatre from 5-8 pm. But since I have a poet's weakness for symbols, I am using this character also as a symbol he is the long-delayed but always expected something that we live for. Prepare (memorize) and perform a one-two minute monologue. He is the most realistic character in the play, being an emissary from a world of reality that we were somehow set apart from. The other characters are my mother Amanda, my sister Laura and a gentleman caller who appears in the final scenes. I am the narrator of the play, and also a character in it. In memory everything seems to happen to music. NEW YORK, NY - Eighteen-year old NYU freshman Ryan McJohnson has achieved something previously considered impossible: a new and even louder way to portray anger in Tom’s The Glass Menagerie monologue. Being a memory play, it is dimly lighted, it is sentimental, it is not realistic. This is the social background of the play. Here there were disturbances of labour, sometimes pretty violent, in otherwise peaceful cities such as Chicago, Cleveland, Saint Louis. Here there was only shouting and confusion. Their eyes had failed them or they had failed their eyes, and so they were having their fingers pressed forcibly down on the fiery Braille alphabet of a dissolving economy. I reverse it to that quaint period, the thirties, when the huge middle class of America was matriculating in a school for the blind. I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion. He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth. But I am the opposite of a stage magician. "Yes, I have tricks in my pocket, I have things up my sleeve.
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