Waco?? Really??
O...M....G
Last Fall: We see Waco on the schedule and while most of us think of the show down with the FBI, the more experienced technicians who have toured before say “oh no, Waco is the absolute WORST venue in the entire United States...” It's so small that the actors dress outside in the parking lot. Hmmm. But at that point we have no idea what that really means in a practical sense.
2 Months later: We've played Columbia, MO where wigs and wardrobe were outside in the parking lot, Ogdensburg, NY (Awesomesburg!) the high school where the dressing rooms were in the library and the wigs and wardrobe were in the hallway and the tiny venues in Ft. Smith, AR and St. Josephs MO where our sets barely fit into the building and we cut the pigeon coop and had complete idiots working for us and ice storms. We think we've seen some bad venues and how much worse can it get?
For the record, when it comes to Waco this is not a good question to ask.
A week ago: We get a pep talk from our Production Manager about our tight relationship with the presenter in Waco who's fighting the longest of uphill battles to bring culture to Waco and about another show we're familiar with that had a horrible experience in Waco and soured all the locals on working with our company and our responsibility to improve relations. Broadway show as diplomat. No pressure.
Yesterday: We arrive in Waco with a weather report predicting snow and rain.
9AM: I arrive in the building and my TD tells me that the wardrobe workroom is next door sharing space with an office furniture rental store, the gondolas will live in the parking lot, it's currently 50 degrees and dropping and the actors will have to dress outside. We start to discuss using one of the trucks for all the gondolas. The space is small, probably smaller than any venue we've played (47 feet wide and 28 feet deep to the back wall) but further constrained by two huge stairwells upstage that take an additional 5 feet of space. On the upside the dressing rooms are cute, though small, with enough space for our 24 actors.
10AM: Half the drops are cut and the rest are hung with fold backs that almost meet in the middle, electrics are working on getting lights hung, audio is set up outside in the parking lot and over the radio we hear our TD “Everyone outside now! It's starting to rain, get tarps and cover everything!”
10:30AM: By break time, the drizzle turns into steady rain. Deck carts are in the parking lot getting unloaded by hand and only about a third of it fits in the building. Audio is at a stand still. The second truck hasn't even been opened. Wardrobe crew has been sitting around for 2 hours with nothing to do.
11AM: I finally get the laundry bags off the truck and start laundry. The house TD keeps coming up to me and saying that he had no idea I would need so many wardrobe people and that he's working on it. 10 minutes later a woman who looks like a homeless crackhead shows up and checks in to be part of my wardrobe crew. My TD takes one look at my face and just walks away laughing. She eats half a dozen donuts, hangs out for a hour or so and takes off and I never see her again.
11:30AM: My stage manager comes over radio to say that one of the actresses has called out. We now have both our swings in the show. I take a minute to walk away and take a deep cleansing breath...
Noon: the second truck hasn't been opened. It's pouring rain and really cold. We're discussing the dire and increasingly real possibility that not only will we not be ready for the show but we may not have a place for the actors to dress, that they could get sick changing clothes in 40 degree weather and that costumes and wigs may get ruined as actors walk between the truck and the theatre in the rain. This is all a moot point as I have yet to get anything wardrobe related off a truck, except dirty laundry.
2PM: Scenery carts are still on the truck. Not only is the ramp so slick that someone could get hurt or killed trying to move them but the carpenters are still trying to figure out how to actually get them through the 6 foot doorway and what to do with them if they can get them into the building. Wardrobe gondolas can't be moved off the truck because it's still pouring rain and there's nowhere to put them. But it's lunch time! Hooray...
3PM: Still have no wardrobe stuff off the truck. Still have no scenery in the building. Everything is at a standstill. Still pouring rain. Still freezing cold (except the follow spot booth which not only has cockroaches but is also at least 90 degrees). The TD then asks the stage manager the question that's never been asked. “Realistically speaking, what's the maximum number of things that can be cut and still have a show?” She starts listing props that could be cut, and he stops her to say “I'm talking about hard scenery...”
3:05: Our Production Manager is on the phone with the stage manager, the presenter and our TD in rapid and repetitive succession. Can we have a show without Max's office if we can't get it off the truck and into the building? Can we cut actors to minimize the number of costumes necessary for the show? Should we cut the showgirl panniers because we literally can't fit them backstage? Of course we're cutting the pigeon coop, the Springtime stairs, bunkers and portal. That's not even a question. Can we cut the townhouse? Can we cut the accountant units? In short, would it be better to do the show with everyone in street clothes and a minimal number of scenery pieces or should we cut all the scenery and put everyone in full costume? It's Waco and apparently you don't get costumes AND scenery.
And in the back of everyone's mind is the growing question “Can we actually do this show?”
3:30: we cut all scenery and put the costume gondolas in the building, thereby creating two new records for that venue. I tell my stage manager that she now owes me a “no wardrobe” show since wardrobe and wigs are the only departments with no significant cuts. After the day she's had, I think she fails to find the humor in that suggestion.
4PM, 5PM and 6PM: multiple and varied discussions about the props necessary to create the illusion of “The Producers” with no scenery and subsequent scrounging of local warehouses for appropriate pieces. We end up with a couch and a desk and a human chain of locals stretched over the top of the scenery carts within the truck trying to unearth the necessary props from the nose of the truck and pass them back to people standing outside in the rain. Despite the lack of scenery I still have less than 2 feet of space for quick changes in the wings.
7PM: I finally get the last of my 10 wardrobe locals an hour after show call, 7 of which have never worked wardrobe before. I have half an hour to train them and get ready to work the show. There are crews that I get who haven't ever worked wardrobe but when I start explaining how everything works, they grasp the concept immediately and the show goes well. This group is the other kind...
7:10, 7:15, 7:23, &:7:25: Concerned actors keep asking me how I'm doing and I keep saying “I have no idea. I don't know how we're actually going to do this show?”
7:40: Showtime. And it finally stops raining.
I'm going to consolidate the next 3 hours into a couple of observations: I had a couple dressers that were great and a couple that may as well have not been there. I think that Jennifer and I both ran at least one track in addition to our own as our dressers sat outside and smoked or disappeared for minutes at a time. Mid show I look up and there was a bat (A BAT!) flying across back stage. None of the locals were surprised by this and in fact seemed surprised that we would be questioning the presence of a BAT inside the theatre. The show itself looked like a high school musical with furniture donated by Goodwill. There were so few surfaces – tables etc. - that actors had to walk in and out of the wings to pick things up and put them down. The pigeon mini coop consisting of a table draped with black fabric was adorable and hilarious... And the audience loved the whole thing. The presenter was extremely happy and said he'd say nice things about us to our production manager.
Load out was everything we expected of three half full trucks with stuff never unloaded, stuff back loaded and stuff rearranged. Plus it was icy cold, the adrenaline had worn off and the fun of trying to fold a 60 foot drop in a 47 foot space wore off quickly. Normally we would get in the bus and try to one up eachother with the best story of the day but there were just too many today. Plus, we just wanted to look forward to a guaranteed 7 hours of sleep as we traveled back to lousiana. So we had a drink, told each other it already felt like a bad dream and went to bed.
Last Fall: We see Waco on the schedule and while most of us think of the show down with the FBI, the more experienced technicians who have toured before say “oh no, Waco is the absolute WORST venue in the entire United States...” It's so small that the actors dress outside in the parking lot. Hmmm. But at that point we have no idea what that really means in a practical sense.
2 Months later: We've played Columbia, MO where wigs and wardrobe were outside in the parking lot, Ogdensburg, NY (Awesomesburg!) the high school where the dressing rooms were in the library and the wigs and wardrobe were in the hallway and the tiny venues in Ft. Smith, AR and St. Josephs MO where our sets barely fit into the building and we cut the pigeon coop and had complete idiots working for us and ice storms. We think we've seen some bad venues and how much worse can it get?
For the record, when it comes to Waco this is not a good question to ask.
A week ago: We get a pep talk from our Production Manager about our tight relationship with the presenter in Waco who's fighting the longest of uphill battles to bring culture to Waco and about another show we're familiar with that had a horrible experience in Waco and soured all the locals on working with our company and our responsibility to improve relations. Broadway show as diplomat. No pressure.
Yesterday: We arrive in Waco with a weather report predicting snow and rain.
9AM: I arrive in the building and my TD tells me that the wardrobe workroom is next door sharing space with an office furniture rental store, the gondolas will live in the parking lot, it's currently 50 degrees and dropping and the actors will have to dress outside. We start to discuss using one of the trucks for all the gondolas. The space is small, probably smaller than any venue we've played (47 feet wide and 28 feet deep to the back wall) but further constrained by two huge stairwells upstage that take an additional 5 feet of space. On the upside the dressing rooms are cute, though small, with enough space for our 24 actors.
10AM: Half the drops are cut and the rest are hung with fold backs that almost meet in the middle, electrics are working on getting lights hung, audio is set up outside in the parking lot and over the radio we hear our TD “Everyone outside now! It's starting to rain, get tarps and cover everything!”
10:30AM: By break time, the drizzle turns into steady rain. Deck carts are in the parking lot getting unloaded by hand and only about a third of it fits in the building. Audio is at a stand still. The second truck hasn't even been opened. Wardrobe crew has been sitting around for 2 hours with nothing to do.
11AM: I finally get the laundry bags off the truck and start laundry. The house TD keeps coming up to me and saying that he had no idea I would need so many wardrobe people and that he's working on it. 10 minutes later a woman who looks like a homeless crackhead shows up and checks in to be part of my wardrobe crew. My TD takes one look at my face and just walks away laughing. She eats half a dozen donuts, hangs out for a hour or so and takes off and I never see her again.
11:30AM: My stage manager comes over radio to say that one of the actresses has called out. We now have both our swings in the show. I take a minute to walk away and take a deep cleansing breath...
Noon: the second truck hasn't been opened. It's pouring rain and really cold. We're discussing the dire and increasingly real possibility that not only will we not be ready for the show but we may not have a place for the actors to dress, that they could get sick changing clothes in 40 degree weather and that costumes and wigs may get ruined as actors walk between the truck and the theatre in the rain. This is all a moot point as I have yet to get anything wardrobe related off a truck, except dirty laundry.
2PM: Scenery carts are still on the truck. Not only is the ramp so slick that someone could get hurt or killed trying to move them but the carpenters are still trying to figure out how to actually get them through the 6 foot doorway and what to do with them if they can get them into the building. Wardrobe gondolas can't be moved off the truck because it's still pouring rain and there's nowhere to put them. But it's lunch time! Hooray...
3PM: Still have no wardrobe stuff off the truck. Still have no scenery in the building. Everything is at a standstill. Still pouring rain. Still freezing cold (except the follow spot booth which not only has cockroaches but is also at least 90 degrees). The TD then asks the stage manager the question that's never been asked. “Realistically speaking, what's the maximum number of things that can be cut and still have a show?” She starts listing props that could be cut, and he stops her to say “I'm talking about hard scenery...”
3:05: Our Production Manager is on the phone with the stage manager, the presenter and our TD in rapid and repetitive succession. Can we have a show without Max's office if we can't get it off the truck and into the building? Can we cut actors to minimize the number of costumes necessary for the show? Should we cut the showgirl panniers because we literally can't fit them backstage? Of course we're cutting the pigeon coop, the Springtime stairs, bunkers and portal. That's not even a question. Can we cut the townhouse? Can we cut the accountant units? In short, would it be better to do the show with everyone in street clothes and a minimal number of scenery pieces or should we cut all the scenery and put everyone in full costume? It's Waco and apparently you don't get costumes AND scenery.
And in the back of everyone's mind is the growing question “Can we actually do this show?”
3:30: we cut all scenery and put the costume gondolas in the building, thereby creating two new records for that venue. I tell my stage manager that she now owes me a “no wardrobe” show since wardrobe and wigs are the only departments with no significant cuts. After the day she's had, I think she fails to find the humor in that suggestion.
4PM, 5PM and 6PM: multiple and varied discussions about the props necessary to create the illusion of “The Producers” with no scenery and subsequent scrounging of local warehouses for appropriate pieces. We end up with a couch and a desk and a human chain of locals stretched over the top of the scenery carts within the truck trying to unearth the necessary props from the nose of the truck and pass them back to people standing outside in the rain. Despite the lack of scenery I still have less than 2 feet of space for quick changes in the wings.
7PM: I finally get the last of my 10 wardrobe locals an hour after show call, 7 of which have never worked wardrobe before. I have half an hour to train them and get ready to work the show. There are crews that I get who haven't ever worked wardrobe but when I start explaining how everything works, they grasp the concept immediately and the show goes well. This group is the other kind...
7:10, 7:15, 7:23, &:7:25: Concerned actors keep asking me how I'm doing and I keep saying “I have no idea. I don't know how we're actually going to do this show?”
7:40: Showtime. And it finally stops raining.
I'm going to consolidate the next 3 hours into a couple of observations: I had a couple dressers that were great and a couple that may as well have not been there. I think that Jennifer and I both ran at least one track in addition to our own as our dressers sat outside and smoked or disappeared for minutes at a time. Mid show I look up and there was a bat (A BAT!) flying across back stage. None of the locals were surprised by this and in fact seemed surprised that we would be questioning the presence of a BAT inside the theatre. The show itself looked like a high school musical with furniture donated by Goodwill. There were so few surfaces – tables etc. - that actors had to walk in and out of the wings to pick things up and put them down. The pigeon mini coop consisting of a table draped with black fabric was adorable and hilarious... And the audience loved the whole thing. The presenter was extremely happy and said he'd say nice things about us to our production manager.
Load out was everything we expected of three half full trucks with stuff never unloaded, stuff back loaded and stuff rearranged. Plus it was icy cold, the adrenaline had worn off and the fun of trying to fold a 60 foot drop in a 47 foot space wore off quickly. Normally we would get in the bus and try to one up eachother with the best story of the day but there were just too many today. Plus, we just wanted to look forward to a guaranteed 7 hours of sleep as we traveled back to lousiana. So we had a drink, told each other it already felt like a bad dream and went to bed.
posted by KBARRETT at 8:49 AM
1 Comments:
Wow....I...just don't have words for that one...that is definitly the story to end all stories.... That makes Bombay Dreams look like a picnic.... :P And I thought Cats! was bad....
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