14 Jan 2021: Happy 21st birthday, SMNetwork! I replaced the old broken mobile theme. -K
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I've come across a great way to mark spikes marks on the floor, and mark cues in your score/script.
Use neon colors. Backstage Light and shift light (for scene changes) is generally blue, and neon colors will glow under blue light (it's like a blacklight effect). Your spike marks and cues will be unmistakeable.
1. I've never seen and opera called from a booth in the back of a theater. I've always seen it called from a console backstage (stage right) with monitors to show whats happening onstage (plus a monitor to show the Maestro). True, you are not in direct contact with your light board operator or your sound board op, but I MUCH prefer this setup. I feel way to disconnected if I am calling from a booth. (Have you ever called a show from a booth, heard a crash backstage, and have been unable to get anyone on headset to tell you what happened? I just recently had a 20 gallon tank of blood burst backstage during a tech rehearsal, and I'm SO glad I was backstage so I knew what was happening and what the progress was for the cleanup.)
2. In opera, it's standard to cue entrances for the singers (and they are refered to as "singers", not "actors".) They are also given 5 minute warnings (paged over the PA system backstage) before their entrances.
3. Normally, it's not the responsibility of the SM to take blocking notes, but the responsibility of the AD. This does vary from company to company.
4. In a musical, you can give notes to your conductor/musical director concerning tempo. You cannot do that in opera. The maestro has the ultimate power over these kinds of issues, and if the singers have issues with the maestro's tempo, they should discuss it with him personally.
5. You are no longer calling from a script, but a score. The ability to read music is essential. Some stage managers I have met will argue that there are ways of calling from a score by marking timings in the score, but I don't find this to be a very precise way of keeping track.
6. Remember that in opera you are dealing with a very tempremental instrument, the human voice. I always make every effort to make sure that the singers are comfortable with their environment. The temperature should be comfortable, the air should not be too dry (to add moisture to the air, mist the stage or rehearsal space with a CLEAN Hudson Sprayer - this also settles any dust that is in the air). Since the singer's voice is their career, they do get particular about these kind of things. This should not be considered being a diva. This is the instrument essential to their career.
There are a ton of other things related specifically to opera, but these are the main differences I've noticed. Many things will, of course, vary from company to company.
I'm interested in finding out Horror Stories from Macbeth . . either the play or the opera, which is apparently equally as cursed. Since Shakespare wrote the play, theatre professionals have called the show cursed. The most recent explanation that I've heard is that the Witch's incantations in Act 1 were real incantations that Shakespeare adapted.
There also appears to be regional cures for saying "MacBeth" in a theatre . . . the most extensive I've heard of is to leave the theatre, turn around three times, spit over your left shoulder, and ask to be let back in.
Any great horror stories of the Scottish Play, or cures for those who dare to speak his name onstage?
"Would you mind working over 40 hours a week for enough money to buy you a Happy Meal?"
In my recent pursuit of employment, I've unfortunately come upon a number of companies who are asking for full time stage management staff with a ton of experience. Upon further investigation, they are also offering little to no salary.
What's a SM to do? How can a company expect their staff to live and work if they aren't willing to pay? It just seems to me as though if you are going to be paying less than full time wages for full time work, you should A) Not be requiring a ton of experience so that these kinds of jobs can go to college students or less experienced Stage Managers or B) not refer to yourselves as "professional" if you aren't going to pay your staff. Realize that you are actually running a community theatre!
Granted, all companies have to start somewhere . . . . ah, the joys of being a non-union SM.
I'm curious to see what everyone else has to say about this.
My first solo stage management job was on a community theatre production of Romeo & Juliet. I had ASMd and co-stage managed before, but I actually auditioned for this production and was cast in a small role. At the end of readthrough, the director asks me: "It says on your resume that you're a stage manager. Would you like to stage manage this?" I agreed, for whatever reason...
This particular theatre was going through a change in management at the time, so things were not incredibly organized... the director was also the producer, set designer, set foreman, and playing Lord Capulet. The arrangement was for one weekend of shows and then two performances for schools the following Monday. The director promised the schools two-hour performances and scheduled them for 10 am and 1 pm.
Needless to say, by the time the show opened, we were running definitely no less than two and a half hours. Saturday night the director realized this, and Sunday he handed us a list of scenes that will be cut for Monday's performance. I went over this with my crew, and we thought we had it down. But one crew member told me that she wouldn't be able to work Monday because she couldn't get out of school. Fortunately, I was able to give her cue sheet to an actor with a small part who had helped me move sets during rehearsals.
I adjusted my cue sheets accordingly and started Monday's first performance as usual. We were low on crew members anyway, so I had to help move the rolling platforms (and keep in mind, I was still playing the small part in the show, so I had to do most of this in a floor-length dress with floor-length sleeves).
Midway through the show, the ASM and I brought Juliet's bedroom out, but quickly realized that we didn't have the actors. It took us a minute to realize that I had misread my cue sheet and
accidentally cut a scene that we hadn't planned to cut. The lighting operator figured that after all this time, we must be ready, and brought the lights up on the empty stage. I rushed to the dressing rooms in a blind panic to find Juliet and send her onstage -- and it took another minute to explain to her what was going on and where we were. Finally, she rushed onstage, did a double take, exited to the opposite side from that she'd entered from, and returned with her knife and vial of potion, much to the amusement of the full house of schoolchildren.
Fortunately, the scene we accidentally cut wasn't crucial to the plot. But of course, after all that, the show still ran over two hours. We had to eat lunch in costume, onstage, while setting up for the afternoon's show.
And somewhat less horrific:
I was ASM for a production of Singin' in the Rain at a different community theatre. Our most difficult change was going from Don Lockwood's house to the scene in which it actually rains -- we had real water from pipes hanging from the grid, and we had to lay a tarp onstage to catch the water. The change had to occur while a scene was played in front of the curtain, and the curtain and the lights would rise simultaneously as Don entered the rainstorm.
As with all community productions in this area, the local paper ran a feature on the show on the front page of the Living section on opening night, with Don shown leaning cavalierly against a lamppost (which was an integral part of the dance number to the title song). And as always, numerous copies of the article were floating around the theatre as we prepped for opening.
I had been told the night before that it would be my job to turn on the rain (from the next room) as soon as the stage was set. The curtain fell on the previous scene and we rushed into action, striking the living room, adjusting the tarp, and finally turning on the rain. We told the stage manager we were ready. Just as she called "lights up," an actor pointed to the lamppost, still sitting offstage, and said to me, "Is this supposed to be onstage?"
There was nothing anyone could do at that point (other than curse over headset and try to find out whose responsibility the lamppost was). The stage manager was about ready to kill someone and I was about ready to cry.
The actor managed to do his dance without the lamppost, and thankfully, the audience didn't seem to notice.
So, I have this new headset. It's a really nifty lightweight
stick-it-behind-your-ear headset. I am the heppest of hep cats, the most
chic geek in the clique, the toniest SM in the neighborhood. (You can get
one for yourself at www.toolsforstagecraft.com.)
It clips to my glasses. I also have a rail cue from the booth in this
show--not just calling the cue, mind you, but actually physically unwinding the
tie-line that zooms from the stage back to my booth so I can fly in a practical
that hovers at the downstage edge of the apron. Fun.
I'm unwrapping the tie line. I'm flying in the very lightweight
practical, letting it go relatively fast so that the weight of the thing pulls
it smoothly past that little notch where the zip cord always gets hung up on the
pulley. My headset microphone is on, as I'm also calling sound, rail, and
light cues. Zip cord gets caught on glasses. Glasses go flying to
the floor, taking headset along. I quickly finish flying in the practical,
and then start groping about. Find the headset and quickly get back on,
apologizing to everyone for the tremendous crash they just heard in their
ears. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Have five visual light cues coming up,
wherein I have to see an actor cross a spike mark in order to light them in a
pin-special. Grope around briefly on the floor before the scene shift
ends. Can't find the glasses. I'm two stories up in the air and 30
rows back from the stage. I am near sighted. I can't even see my
script. I can't find my glasses anywhere. I run the first five
minute cue sequence blind. Doing alright, but really can't see those
visual cue spikes and they crop up through the entire play. Call a few
sound cues blind while I grope around again. Wire sliver in the finger,
but no glasses. I never knew exactly how much crud was on the floor of the
booth until today.
Finally give up and call the rest of the one act blind--another full 20
minutes of cues, exclusively visual. Can't see the actors at all--I'm
going off of the sound of their feet on the stage. My sound op, who sits
below me in the back of the house, tells me when they're approaching their spike
marks. A tag team effort.
At intermission, my sound op walks up to me. I had already spent a good
five minutes scrounging around on the booth floor, and have notified all and
sundry that we cannot start Act II until I can see. He hands me my
glasses. Apparently, when the tie-line knocked them off, the headset on
its cable fell to the floor of the booth, but the specs went flying out the
window to land on the floor of the back row in the house, a full story below me,
and right next to him. The first thing that runs through my head is,
"I'll never live this one down." Then I think, "Wow,
I got some good air on that--if only it had been intentional." And
then I realize that if the tie line had been about three inches closer to me,
I'd have yanked myself out of the booth window instead of just the
glasses. I'm getting a chain for the glasses tomorrow. Now if only
my Master Elec would stop humming "She Came in Through the Bathroom
Window" every time he sees me...
(This was only a horror story because we had trouble controlling our laughter and carrying on with the show) I was stage managing a community theatre production of Auntie Mame a few years ago. During the middle of the run we had a daytime show for an inner city middle school. As you may or may not already know, there's a bit with some rope where Beauregard, Mame's husband, is climbing a mountain and yodeling. He then falls and dies. All that the audience sees is the rope dropping. Audience response: (shouts) "Is he dead?" (another shout) "Yeah, he's dead
m~~~~ f~~~~~."
So here I am stage managing college theatre. It’s one of those set ups where you’re stage managing one show and running costumes on another two weeks later. So my show is going off ok. I’m having to do light sound and projection cues but I’ve managed to get into the swing of things. I’m not planning on working on the next show up since I’m falling behind in classes then I get an email from the stage manager. ‘How would you like to call Hamlet Dreams?’ ‘Hamlet Dreams? I thought we were doing Hamletmachine by Muller. Ok sure just have to call the show no problem’ So I show up for rehearsals that have been going on for almost 8 weeks announce that I will be calling the show and in essence the new stage manager. The response I got was ‘we have an old stage manager?’ This is so not a good sign. Apparently the stage manager had only shown for 4 or 5 rehearsals and the ASM was AWOL. So first I ask for a script. Well they decided to do some sort of deconstructed Hamlet
using only the characters that actually die. Apparently Hamletmachine was just to constrictive (and if you know this show you know that’s a laugh). And there is no script. People aren’t even entirely sure which scenes are going to be done. Tech is in less than two weeks. There are two Hamlets two Ophelia’s who will be performing their characters at the same time, one person playing
Rosencrantz and Gildenstern, and there is no Laertes because he had just got shipped out.
Step one get a script. This involved going around to most of the actors and asking them which scenes they thought they were in. I compiled it ran it by the director cut out half then wrote lines for the chorus (who has never been to a rehearsal) to say between scenes. Step two find a Laertes. So the day after my first show closes I go up to one of the stronger actors in the middle of the cafeteria. I explain the situation and get laughed at. I beg. I get accused of being the stage manager from hell. I get down on my knees in front of everyone and beg holding the script in the air making a general scene (hey I came into this business as an actor) we try holding rehearsals but one Ophelia has labs the King and the Ghost both have work all of
R and G’s lines are cut so instead he is going to be doing random actor jokes while wearing a double faced mask and we are less than a week from tech. The
Gods of theatre smiled and tech went disturbingly well then dress rehearsal didn’t it was back to the old I have labs I have work game. I made one Ophelia almost cry and told R and G that if he missed his entrance one more time I’d drop his ass from the show. Nice thing about first time actors is that they actually believe you have that power. So the night before preview we finally have the whole cast in costume on stage at once. Our TD who is a trained light designer had been the one to light the show. It was utterly beautiful but if one cue was off he was going to know (did I mention I was taking six credits from the man at the time and another three from the director)
Now the idea was that people were suppose to sign up to be jury members before the show (Hamlet and crew are in purgatory and being judged) well it’s the free preview night and all of my friends are coming. Now most are computer science majors and most haven’t read Hamlet. I catch them in the lobby and go ‘guess what you are all going on stage do me a favor and send hamlet to hell’ So I drag my non theatre friend back stage hand them over to one of the dressers who is basically my ASM run back up stairs and discover that the house has opened without anyone telling me. The computer projections (did I mention we had projections too) were not up yet so we had a Windows 95 desk top up for the meager audience to see. I had a down minute so I went out behind the theatre into a snow bank (btw this is all happening in Fairbanks Alaska) and sacrifice some expensive chocolates to the gods of the theatre. I go back up to the both and call places. The Ghost who is chronically
late is still in his boxers. The show would have started on time but the ghost was late. I think I missed one light cue that night and for whatever reason the audience liked it. My friends agreed to come back and be a jury again if need be. The run went ok after that. I think it was the nightly chocolate sacrifice that did it.
I was once stage managing a children's musical, 'Into the Woods Junior." I was trying to coral 20 little elementary kids as well as about 10 back stage crew members who were attempting to help out. First off, it was a small stage and about zero back stage and no fly space. So we were cramped. Although we had a green room nearby the monitors weren't properly working. That was our first problem, and it gets better. Some kids didn't have their clothes with them, one girl lost her wig on stage and so on. We ended up having to stick some kids in the dressing and tech rooms and pulling them out as need be. On top of that, there was a scene where a fog machine had to be turned on and fog pumped on to the stage. It was only a three night performance, and I think we only got it right once. The mechanics of the fog machine were a little odd. It was about a 40 gallon bucket that had to be turned on 4 hours in advance in order to be ready on time. We also had a huge cooler of dry ice. The only place we could put all this
equipment was in an un-used stairwell along the side of the back stage,
accompanied with a very big hose to get the fog on stage. One night with all the other chaos reigning down on me, one of the fog machine guys
dropped a huge block of dry ice into to bucket. (Usually it's lowered in a tray) All of a sudden a few minutes before the fog is supposed to go on, I hear muffled shouting, swearing, and laughing. I open the door and look down to see and smell nothing but fog!! It was spewing out everywhere and the guys are shouting obscenities. After getting them to stop shouting and open a door to the outside to get the fog out I had other people to deal with. Over the rest of the night, I had to explain to the police who came to the door with the fog why there was 'smoke' coming out, to the TD and Director why there was so much noise backstage, and to the kids that what they heard should not be repeated. All in all, it was one crazy night. I almost decided that night that I was never working with nor having kids ever again.
This isn't really a horror story... but its funny. Post it where applicable. I was working ASM for my local high school my junior year on Guys and Dolls. That year, we started making a 20 or so page playbill type of program with cast/crew/orchestra bios, photos of rehearsals, etc. The photographer for the program was wandering around the theatre shooting pictures during the tech rehearsal. This person knew nothing about the run of tech rehearsal and that it usually takes forever. Constantly insisting that we hurry up wondering why the techies kept running out and putting down little tape marks just after they set the scene. Most of us were getting fed up. Once we were finally finished with the rehearsal, the photographer
announced "I need the Stage Manager, Lighting Designer, Sound Designer, and Tech Director-- the MINOR people-- for a picture." That was it. It was time for "the minors" to flaunt our power. We (the SM, ASM's, LD, and Sound Techs) devised a very involved prank (required our own headset system.
It was that complicated.). There were about 7 or 8 people out of 40 some cast/crew/orchestra/production staff
people that knew what we were up to (all crews. No actors).
As you may or may not know, Guys and Dolls has one huge scene where the entire company is on stage singing "Sit Down, You're Rocking the Boat". Halfway through the song, the pit lights go out (I had cut the circuit breaker on stage). The orchestra trails off into nothing because they can't see their music. The cast trails off just as the stage lights fade to black. 10:00 p.m. in a 95 year old auditorium. Not a pleasant place to be in pitch black. Most thought it was a power outage until.... a sound starts over the system: an air raid siren. then, a digital voice comes over the system proclaiming "We are the techies! We control every audio and visual effect. Techies make the show! FEEL THE POWER OF THE MINORS!" Lights come back up. Pit lights back on. The director was
practically rolling on the floor laughing. The techies, confused at first, thought it
was hilarious. The actors didn't speak to the crews for the remainder of the week. The pit musicians were divided. Some thought it was a riot, others hated us for it. Oh, well. Techies rule. :-) To this day, there is a sign on the light booth door in that theatre that says "Office of the Minors".
If your power is ever disrespected, read this. You'll feel better. Maybe even try it sometime. :-)
I thought that the last one I sent in was bad, but I'm almost certain that this one takes the cake for my bad experiences. I was stage managing a show for the theater that I currently work for, a theater that employs only myself and the Managing Artistic Director, everyone else is here on a volunteer basis. Well, our sound op, a volunteer with a small IQ and short attention span, is
teetering on the edge of her stool in the booth, something that should also be mentioned is that the sound board is located in a closed booth...huge mistake as everyone knows, but no one listens to me, the same booth where the light board is located and where I am also perched on top of a stool running lights and calling cues.
Well, as she is teetering on her stool, she is pulling on the wires of the intercom system, something that has been a problem before, she has a tendency to pull them out of the wall knocking out the whole system and often damaging the adapters and connections. So, I calmly remind her multiple times to be
careful. She almost falls and yanks something out because the monitor system, our only source of knowing what's going on, dies and apparently the entire sound system did the same. On top of that, it is in the middle of sound QA, so the audience is also well aware of the fact that something is wrong. I have a whole series of Qs coming up that are solely based on my ability to hear the actors. So, I have to fix this situation quickly.
Well, the sound op is yelping because she knows she messed up something. Now, I can sort of hear if she would just shut up, but she is so loud that members of the audience are beginning to turn around and look at the booth. I threw off my headset, covered her mouth and told her if she didn't get quiet soon I would throw her out of the booth and run the show myself. She's panicking and I've missed a light Q so, I setup to get to the next correct Q and begin to look for the cause of the problem while calling cues from her headset and occasionally reaching over to hit a light
Q, by this point I had opened up the booth windows and stuck the sound op in the lobby. After a great deal of searching through a bundle of wires and a series of outlets see that the main power cord, which
kind of went off behind a large object, didn't appear to be plugged in anywhere. I followed the cord through the booth, not missing a single Q but sound for obvious reasons, and I found that the thing had been ripped out of the wall and damaged the extension cord, so I sent the op to the mechanical room for another cord and has us back online before we missed a 5th sound Q. After the show, I told the MA Director that I willl never work with that volunteer in the booth again. This was the third time she had pulled something out.
I was a freshman in college, and my first assignment in the theatre
department was to stage manage "The Importance of being Earnest"
I had SMd in HS many times, and had just done this same show the previous year.
Things were going alright for the most part. The only difficulty up to
opening had been the set was not being completed on schedule. And that is
how the horror of my worst opening night began. I arrived shortly before
call, to get things set up. When I walked in the door, I was met by one of
my crew members, telling me NOT to go near the theatre. I was explained to
me that the set was not finished, still very wet in fact, and the director, and
TD had had an "altercation" moments before I arrived. That
"altercation" was in fact the Director attacking the TD on the stage,
in front of random students. The police were called and both were sent to
their offices. It was then that I found out the details of the
altercation, which included beard pulling, slapping, keyboard stealing, and
words I care not to repeat. All the while I had to get my actors into
costume, get the house open and all the usual SM stuff. The police
insisted everyone gather on stage so the two faculty could apologize to
everyone. The TD was escorted out of the building, and the Director
sequestered to her office for the night. So the show was quite literally
in my hands alone. Now I would have thought that once the whole
scene had calmed down, things could get back to normal, right? Wrong!!
I had just called one minute and places, when I was informed, via an usher
making an announcement on stage to a packed house, that we would be evacuating
everyone to the basement due to a tornado in the area. (why didn't anyone
tell me before the audience?) So needless to say, we did not start on time.
While everyone was hiding in the basement, the building manager and I stood in
the lobby, which is nothing more than lots of glass, to direct late comers to
the basement. In reality, as we talked, we actually hoped for a tornado to
hit us, it would have been the perfect end to our wonderful day.
Well, the show did go on, and it was actually the best show of the run.
And I, well, I did graduate with my theatre major, and after that experience,
very little scares me off of a show.
Well, it was my first year being a real stage manager, and it was our
director's first year working at our school and we were doing "The
Pirates of Penzance," which is not the easiest of shows. Our director was
not the easiest of people to work with either, but luckily I at least had the
support of the cast. I think I was the only person in the whole production who
hadn't been screamed at by her by tech week, but it still had worn on my
nerves. Hell week really was hell week, I had stage managing to do, but I also
had grades to keep up and I had a full schedule and I was spending my lunch
talking to the director or painting or working on this play and I was
incredibly tired. I was trying so hard to be perfect and to not be yelled at.
Part of our set was a big moving stage rock on wheels that had to be locked in
place; we were borrowing it and if we had broken it it would have cost about
$3,000. It's the second day of hell week and we're running through and as the
pirates are dancing and the Pirate King is singing I get that feeling that I forgot
something. It comes the time in the Pirate King's song where he jumps onto the
rock and it rolls backwards with him on it. I rush to the side of the stage that
it is on and while Frederick is singing with Ruth and the daughters are waiting
offstage, I try to crouch down and roll the rock back into place. I can't move
it and right there behind the rock I have a nervous breakdown. Everything that
had led up to that point suddenly came out and I'm crying and shaking as the
daughters are wondering what I'm doing. I was so scared that our director was
coming to get me. But no one (and nothing) got hurt and I think someone talked
to her about how bad I felt and she didn't say a word. I guess we all have our
moments and I guess that wasn't really a horror story, but it was pretty awful
crouched behind that rock crying uncontrollably. Oh well.
Where to begin. It was my second to last semester of college and I finally
got to stage manage a mainstage production, Jean Genet’s The Balcony. Months
of rehearsal go by, my ASM is great, my director is fabulous (a little scary at
tech time, but other than that fabulous) and I started dating one of the actors.
Everything else about the show was horrific; I’m convinced it was cursed. You
name it, it happened; designer issues, set not in until preview, diva actors,
horrid tech weeks…I still cringe at the thought of it. But it’s a learning
experience right? Riiiight. Well the set was rather abstract and one set piece
is a rolling balcony that holds four actors about eight or so feet in the air.
My boyfriend played the General and his costume was an amazing uniform that made
him look like the Kaiser. So right before our closing performance, he asks me if
we can bring the balcony on stage so I can take a picture of him on top of it to
give to his family. I say no, because it’ll take too much time to get the
balcony on stage, then all the other actors will want to do it, etc, etc. In his
mind he figures we’ll take the picture off-stage so as to avoid the hassle. So
I’m on stage checking up with everyone, making sure everything is going
smoothly and that the house will be ready to open. My boyfriend comes up to me
and asks me to meet him backstage left to take his picture on top of the
non-counterbalanced balcony. He goes backstage and I get distracted center stage
by my sound crew-head. As we stand there talking we hear a loud, “Shit! Shit!
Shit!” off-stage and see my boyfriend, my actor, my costume and my balcony
falling over and crashing to the floor. The crews immediately run to his aid, I’m
standing center stage stunned and speechless, and he stands and yells, “I’m
fine, get a staple gun!” (Did I mention he’s also a techie?) Did I mention
it was half-hour until the performance? Luckily he was OK and nothing was
sticking out of his arm. Long story short, the show goes on, only fifteen
minutes late and the final performance goes off without a hitch. The next day I
took my boyfriend to the doctor to find that he had a broken radial cap thingy
in his elbow. He was in a sling for about a month. Now I can look back and joke
about the situation and now I know I can handle anything.
I volunteered to work as the SM for a new production company. I
should've known that it was going to be bad news from the first time I met
the director. She worked full time for this ad agency an she wanted
everyone involved in the production to "revel in the process".
Rehearsals were completely unorganized and for the entire first month and
a half didn't even deal with the script at all. The cast spent most of the
time doing exercises that looked like interpretative dance. At some point
the director told everyone that we weren't going to use the script and
instead we would be rewriting it as an ensemble. I was given about 15
different copies of a script and the one I used for the show wasn't even
the most up to dated version because things kept changing even up to the
last day of tech rehearsal. The interesting part is that during rehearsals
the actors would call "line" and look to me.
Production meetings were no better. The director was also the producer and
she didn't have any technical knowledge base but she would keep asking the
designers to change things. She couldn't understand why we would all get
frustrated with her at the meetings.
To make matters worse, her sister was the star of the show and
rehearsals usually turned into a sort of counselling session between her
and all of the cast because there were MANY issues between them all.
The director was hell bent on having video projections but the video guy
gave us the run around for two months before he ducked out completely
about three weeks before the show opened. She wouldn't give up the idea of
having these projections so I had to pull a favor from some video guy I
know to get stuff filmed. Our TD had also only been sporadically involved
and so the damn video screens weren't even built. So the directo basically
spent a week straight w/o sleeping so she could get all this footage
editted to her liking.
Load-in and tech week comes and I'm scared shitless because we've never
even run the show completely through. On top of this, the video stuff
isn't done and we haven't heard from our TD either which means no set. We
finally tracked down our TD because he ended up violating the terms of the
agreement we had with the rented theater space. He gets the set done but
we didn't get it all until the day before we opened.
We never ran through the show w/o stopping and having a complete set w/
video, sound lights etc until the 2nd night of the show. The final kicker
was that we didn't even use the screens that were made for the
projections. Somehow it all pulled together and we got a lot of good
feedback from it. But it made me never want to work with a new company
again.
