Friday, March 23, 2012

My First Management Position

Before I started my last quarter of school, I auditioned for the Civic Arts production of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. I had a horrible audition. Still, I wanted to be a part of this fun story. 'I can help backstage if I don't get a part' I told the director.

'How would you like to be the stage manager?' she offered a week or so later. A phone conversation later and I was at the next production meeting. I was a stage manager!

With no idea how deep the pool was.

Sending rehearsal reminders, supporting the photo shoots and costume fittings and make-up classes, running production meetings, shushing the kids (who make up most of the cast) – that was the easy stuff.

Understanding the stage? My comprehension of left and right is slightly worse than that of a 3-year old. Despite the fact I've been onstage before, getting Stage Left and Stage Right correct – with 4 wings, 24 actors, props upon props upon props – took some serious diagramming. And even then, I got turned around the minute I went from the rehearsal space to backstage.

And that's still the shallow end of the pool.

Then came tech week. Or as it's known in theatre, "Hell Week". Come tech week, the stage manager takes charge. It's the stage manager who calls the lights and starts the show on time. The stage manager is there for every performance. The first few days of tech I kept telling the production team, 'Uh, guys? You do realize I don't know what I'm doing, right?'

I shouldn't have worried about being in the deep end of the pool. Theatre is a team project. One never works alone. Every member of the production team was an excellent teacher, available for my questions, setting me straight when I strayed. The theatre staff was wonderful; I asked, and it was provided. Crew and staff basically said 'Uh, dude? We're your water wings. Chill'.

Late nights, early mornings, no sleeping-in on weekends. It was good times.

We closed on a Sunday. Monday morning, I went to work with a sigh. No more animals, or playing cards, or mystical creatures. I missed my kids.

1 comment:

Rick said...

Well, if stage doesn't work out for you, writing certainly will! I really enjoy what you provide.

And since you never told us if you could swim or not, that pool became quite the tease!

Glad you had such a wonderful experience, and it is great to know that the folks involved were, well, very involved. Teamwork is so often the key to things.