In the name of perfection and celebration Guy wants extra large tickets and shiny paper for the 14-page program. It's why he has built a 25-foot marquee and paid extra for the especially bright posters. It's why he went through the phone book until he found a deal to get the wine ("The DiSabatos in the South End. I went down to meet the whole family. Wonderful people."). Guy's devotion, which borders on monomania, almost seems pretentious. But as he works to perfect the show and explains the hundreds of carefully executed details, his devotion is clearly just that: total dedication coupled with the knack for infecting others with his own enthusiasm.

IV

I THINK of Brel as a celebration of life--as it is. There's an amazing coherence in the show. The characterization is pretty much evident in the script. There's a division between the introspective and the outgoing. It's always song-countersong: Curt sings about marriage, I sing of brothels; Paula sings 'Timid Frieda' while Patty sings 'My Death.' It's really twenty-six scenes, not just songs. It works as theater because it limits drama to a minimum, cutting out the extraneous. It gets down to a core....

"Each song has to have a center, has to build to something. Each presents a coherent idea that has to have coherent blocking. I think of blocking this show, not choreographing it. The challenge is to stage both the characterization and the song. It means getting inside the songs: sometimes Brel says the song should end at the front of the stage. You have to listen for those things...

"Hands are very important. Hands are used as a vehicle for communication, to give the show continuity. They can carry emotion in slightly unnatural gestures; for instance, you know it has to be crossed hands at one point, but close in or away from you?

"We beefed up the sound to make the music an equal part. Brel says he's not a poet, the verse has to come with the music floating about. We've got ten instruments instead of four. We'll have a trumpet, too, if they send the music. We wanted the band to change color with the pieces, as Brel does; with just piano, guitar, bass, and drums it would all be the same.

"Brel says some pretty hard things. You know. 'There are truths you've never told.' His truths are real, not theatrical. Brel's philosophy is if we only have love we can get it together--maybe. I played 'Amsterdam' for a good friend of mine; he was a merchant marine. When this guy gets misty-eyed, it's a real tribute to Brel (and to him, too). We're feeding and wining our audience, then singing to them about how the middle class gets fat and gets drunk. It's only half-serious, but it's half-serious...

"Act Two has more appeal than the first act. It's more gimmicky, the songs are better known... maybe it's because they're better. I don't know. They hold up remarkably well. We've been singing them six hours a night, and they're still good. So many things are perfect now that took hours. And now we suffer from diddly-shit things like a fuse overloading. It's frustrating, like a yellow light on a blue diamond. We've got to get it perfect. I love the show now more than when I started it--and I loved it when I started."

V

FRIDAY EVENING the cast works on rough harmonies while the last colored gels are put over the lights. Patty sings 'Old Folks' again and again while the others work on blending the background. Several instrumentalists start giving impromptu voice lessons; Tom reiterates that they have to keep the rhythms clear. At 9:30 the Phoenix and Independent reviewers are to arrive.

Guy shows off the advertising banners; he's not sure where he'll put them. "If only we could hang them out of Mem Church, but..." He has the same problem with the marquee, but isn't worried. Paula has found another possible outfit, which still is not what Guy wants; Curt comes in wearing tuxedo pants, and Guy's face lights up. "They're absolutely perfect! Where'd you get them?" He has sent back the programs to be reprinted; they were on the wrong kind of paper with the wrong print. Tomorrow will be the final decisions on costumes and painting the platform. It's down to finishing touches.

Each rehearsal Guy has prowled around, checking on the final details, encouraging the cast to keep it fresh and not to forget what they've perfected, concentrating on keeping his own voice in tune. Although ultimately confident, he continues to worry (Sore throats menace both Patty and him. She pops cough drops while he swigs from a bottle of honey.) When on Tuesday Guy stopped the opening chorus to change a lighting cue, Curt had turned to the girls and said. "Opening night we'll be up there and Guy'll go 'Wait!' and charge off to correct something." They had all laughed, knowing how close to truth that was.

"You know, you have to realize when you just have to sit back and let it be," Guy had said the night before. But as curtain time approaches for the first of the press previews, he continues to polish the last bit of sparkle into his blue diamond of a show.