Moving On and Looking Back

So at the request of Miss Allers, and because it's been such a long time since I've really written here, I've decided to write a new blog. I do apologize because it's once again about La Mancha, but as that show has essentially been the sole purpose of my existence here for the last two or so weeks, I think it's an appropriate topic for a few blogs.

On Saturday night, we had our 19th and final performance of Man of La Mancha at the Hangar. But there was no time to be sentimental - the moment the last audience member walked out of the theatre, a horde of technicians, armed with drills and saws and C-wrenches, descended upon the stage to whisk away any sign that there had ever been a show there. Costumes were washed and put back on racks, props were returned to storage, platforms were disconnected and carried away, lighting instruments were struck, and the process of changeover had begun.

As a professional theatre, the Hangar loses money every day that it can't sell seats to a performance. Therefore, it is in everyone's best interests to keep the number of days between closing and the next opening to an absolute minimum. By 1:30am, the entire set of La Mancha had been struck, leaving no sign that it had ever been there, and Electrics could really get to work. Because our jobs are considerably easier to do before scenery is placed, Electrics and Sound are always the first departments to start installing equipment for the next show. We spent the whole night striking the plot from the previous show, then hanging, circuiting, coloring, and patching the plot for the next show. By 6am we had accomplished most of what we set out to do, and we watched the sun rise as we drove home, ending a long 18 hour work day. We came back to work at 2pm that afternoon, and by 6pm the entire plot of 200-some lighting instruments was ready to be focused. It really is an incredible turnaround time - a little over 18 hours to go from one enormous show to a completely different, yet equally enormous show. It's amazing what a small, talented group of people can do in such a short amount of time when there's no room for failure.

So now that I've described the daunting process that is changeover, allow me to return to the moments just before we began to erase any trace of the show from our theatre. While 19+ performances of the same show in just over two weeks is a LOT, I enjoyed every second I spent working on this production. No matter how many times we ran the show, no two performances were ever the same. Some nights an actor was sick, some nights a lead spontaneously changed his lines, and some nights a costume piece just decided to be difficult. But without exception, I was moved every night when Richard Todd Adams performed "The Impossible Dream". And no matter how many times I heard him deliver his touching monologue in Act II, I was able to find new meaning in what he was saying every time.

Working on this show has been an honor and a privilege, and I'm happy to say that it has reaffirmed my choice of what I want to do with the rest of my life. I can't realistically expect to love every production as much as I've loved this one, but if future shows are even half as rewarding as this show has been, then I can't wait to see what the future has in store.


R

Advice to Aspiring Lighting Designers

So I apologize profusely for not updating this in forever! There's SO MUCH that's been happening, but none of it is really interesting enough to write about. So in lieu of an original post, I instead defer to the writing mastery of Lucas Krech, a successful professional lighting designer, and a skilled writer as well.

This particular article has always been a personal favorite of mine, as he takes us back to the very foundations of lighting design, without worrying about instruments and cables and dimmers and gels and lighting consoles. I encourage you to browse through the rest of his blog if so inclined.

Light Cue 23: Enjoy the Sunlight

More to come soon!

R

Words to Live By

"Call nothing thy own except thy soul.
Love not what thou art, but only what thou may become.
Do not pursue pleasure, for thou may have the misfortune to overtake it.
Look always forward; in last year's nest there are no birds this year.
Be just to all men. Be courteous to all women.
Live in the vision of that one for whom great deeds are done ..."


Ironically, by choosing to pursue a career in the theatre, I am actually sacrificing the main factor that made me love it in the first place. I have always been awed and inspired by the magic of theatre - that, on severely limited schedules and budgets, so many diverse people can bring together their incredible talents to produce an emotionally moving stage production that gets recreated eight times a week. Sadly, by working theatre at a high level, the "emotionally moving"-ness of the production for those of us running the shows often tends to be lost.

This was not the case this evening.

Tonight was our third of nineteen performances of Man of La Mancha at the Hangar Theatre, and I, as a frontlight follow spot operator, have a priceless view of the stage. Even though we've now spent over 50 hours with the actors on stage rehearsing and teching this show, tonight was the first time I really stopped to listen to what was going on. Now that my cues are all memorized and I have a feel for the show, I can finally stop to appreciate the incredible beauty that's happening 20 feet beneath my spotlight. And just before the finale of the first act, some of Don Quixote's lines started to really hit me.

As Don Quixote (played by Richard Todd Adams) held his vigil and considered how life should be lived, we at first hear some of the timeless advice which we've all heard since our youth. But what makes this truly powerful is the context. Don Quixote is holding vigil outside of a bar which he believes to be a mighty castle, preparing to be knighted by the owner of the bar whom he believes to be a great king. We are almost tempted to laugh at his expense, but as he delivers wise words of wisdom, we are left in a state of awe. Quixote may be a crazed lunatic who lives only in delusions, but the ideals and morals to which he clings are inspiring and pure. Even as everyone around him succumbs to the reality of life as it is, Quixote still holds fiercely onto his dream, all the while knowing that it is an impossibility.

Don Quixote's message is a universal one which we can all learn from. We have all, at one time or another, chosen what is easy over what is right, and we have all let go of something precious for fear of failure. Through the timeless words of Don Quixote, we are reminded that our lives are not defined by the places we go, but by the journeys we take to get there.


"To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go
To right the unrightable wrong
To love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star."


R

It's Been A While!

So I realized upon getting home a few minutes ago a few very important things. Firstly, that I hadn't updated this blog in too damn long! After 39 Steps opened, we basically settled into a dull routine where there wasn't much worth writing about, and since we've been in tech all week for Man of La Mancha, I quite frankly just haven't had time to write here. Secondly, I realized for the first time how much I absolutely love this place, and all the people that make it as amazing as it is. Opening night went very well, but the real fun started after the show, when we all just kinda let looses and unwound from a very long, but very successful, week of tech. It really is a whole different world from what I'm used to - everyone just wants to have a great time, and that's it. To my college-bound friends - you are going to have the time of your life when September finally rolls around. You can't even imagine what you're in for.

That's all for now. Time for me to crash - I still hafta run two shows tomorrow!

R