If you don't have anything nice to say...
So I'm nursing a cold in Reno, NV, on the first full weekend we've had in several weeks. The Matrix is on TV and that's about all I've got good to say about the fact that I'll be staying in this hotel room until I feel better in order to recover before the two days of two-shows-a-day next week.
I haven't posted in a while, but it's been extremely challenging. And by challenging I mean really difficult. Our stage manager quit, our relations with the production office became strained almost to the point of mutiny, we were asked to do shows without adequate crews, without adequate space, and, in one notable case last week, without a set.
I'll actually talk about that, since, to me, it perfectly encapsulates what is so awful about this experience and, simultaneously, what is so amazing. In Seattle, we were asked to do a show entirely without a set. The reasons for this are multiple, and as far as I can tell, boil down to a mixture of miscommunications and incompetence between our production staff and the event coordinators at the space. A show already had their fixed set on the stage, and therefore there was no space for our set to be assembled. Rather than cancel the show, they asked us to present what could have been a sub-par show. Much of our show depends on a series of doors that both create a dramatic visual effect and advance the plot (in one case an entire story depends on the door). So, we figured out a way to get the doors on the stage without the rest of the set, put the damn thing up in front of two-thousand kids, and rocked the house. The cast were incredibly professional, and we made it look both easy and fun. We got our rockstar cheers at the end of the show (as a side note, that is probably one of the things that make this job worthwhile - the sound of 1000+ kids screaming as you take your bow. It ain't art, but damn it feels good), loaded out in spite of a condescending crew with a poor attitude, and drove to Reno.
On the one hand - incompentence, miscommunication, seemingly unrealistic expectations, a production company apparently more concerned with the bottom line than the quality of the show or the health and safety of its actors. On the other hand - an amazingly professional cast that can pull victory from the jaws of defeat again and again and whom I am terribly proud to work with, a high quality show that can entertain and educate in spite of occasionally low production values, and the opportunity to push myself beyond my percieved limits to see that I may actually capable of more than even I thought.
This is the dichotomy I live with. Next week should be challenging, too. I'll try to get rid of this cold, post a little more regularly, and eat my vegetables. Love to you all.
I haven't posted in a while, but it's been extremely challenging. And by challenging I mean really difficult. Our stage manager quit, our relations with the production office became strained almost to the point of mutiny, we were asked to do shows without adequate crews, without adequate space, and, in one notable case last week, without a set.
I'll actually talk about that, since, to me, it perfectly encapsulates what is so awful about this experience and, simultaneously, what is so amazing. In Seattle, we were asked to do a show entirely without a set. The reasons for this are multiple, and as far as I can tell, boil down to a mixture of miscommunications and incompetence between our production staff and the event coordinators at the space. A show already had their fixed set on the stage, and therefore there was no space for our set to be assembled. Rather than cancel the show, they asked us to present what could have been a sub-par show. Much of our show depends on a series of doors that both create a dramatic visual effect and advance the plot (in one case an entire story depends on the door). So, we figured out a way to get the doors on the stage without the rest of the set, put the damn thing up in front of two-thousand kids, and rocked the house. The cast were incredibly professional, and we made it look both easy and fun. We got our rockstar cheers at the end of the show (as a side note, that is probably one of the things that make this job worthwhile - the sound of 1000+ kids screaming as you take your bow. It ain't art, but damn it feels good), loaded out in spite of a condescending crew with a poor attitude, and drove to Reno.
On the one hand - incompentence, miscommunication, seemingly unrealistic expectations, a production company apparently more concerned with the bottom line than the quality of the show or the health and safety of its actors. On the other hand - an amazingly professional cast that can pull victory from the jaws of defeat again and again and whom I am terribly proud to work with, a high quality show that can entertain and educate in spite of occasionally low production values, and the opportunity to push myself beyond my percieved limits to see that I may actually capable of more than even I thought.
This is the dichotomy I live with. Next week should be challenging, too. I'll try to get rid of this cold, post a little more regularly, and eat my vegetables. Love to you all.

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