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