OK I admit it. I am not the most organized person in the world. Stage Wife1, although she does not know me well, can attest to that. And as an aside, Stage Wife1 might very well be the most organized person in the world. But that's not important now.
What is important is that an hour before leaving for my job interview today I glanced at the email confirmation and learned some disturbing things. 1. The attached application was to be completed and brought to the interview. 2. The attached application was 16 pages long. 3. I was unaware of the location or cleanliness status of any interview-worthy shirts. 4. I was, shall we say, not yet dressed for my day.
Add to this the idea that I had only a vague notion of what this position was, and you have a recipe for something approaching...
the best interview ever.
No kidding. I had to jump up and leave to avoid being put to work running the company on the spot. I now have a workable template for future interviews, and I can also provide a unique approach to job-hunting that I have not seen offered elsewhere. All that time you've wasted in the past honing your resume and preparing for interviews that didn't lead anywhere? You won't get that time back. Use The Chris Barsam System for Acing Interviews Without Effort! I didn't end up getting an offer, but still.
I had a dream.
I was the manager of an extremely low budget live theater operation. We were performing Cinderella. We had intended to invest in special effects but financial limitations, well, limited us - so for instance when Fairy Godmother made her entrance there were no fireworks, concussion grenades, or flashes. What we had instead was Director1's recorded voice, synthesized to edit out all abnormalities, yelling "Flash Box!" We did not have smoke, either. What we did have were scantily clad young women carrying large cards with SMOKE! written in bold letters. The dream did not last long enough for me to say what our balance sheet looked like or even how this production turned out, but in the next dream I was skiing down the side of a volcano. I think the moral of the story is that if you are involved in theatre - or pretty much anything - it has to be for the love of it, and you have to do it now before the dream changes.
The pictures sent by D1 are spectacular. http://www.snowjumpstump.com/cinderella/ Looking at them I nearly forgot it was our show, and not some Broadway tour. Judging from the pictures, I am, alas, not much in our show. Which is surprising, based on the amount of perspiration I generate while the show is going on. The truth is I am very excited about the stage time I do have, the lack of photographic evidence notwithstanding. Now the big challenge is focus. I might be trying to avoid stepping on Stage Wife1's dress (and for some reason also Dancing Girl2 and Dancing Girl3 and Step Sister1 and Fairy Godmother1 and Queen1's dresses), but that does not excuse me from hearing my pseudo Tango music in the first scene or executing a couple of well-timed head snaps upon hearing that the Prince is Giving a Ball.
If only I could remember the words to that song...wait a minute. "The Prince is Giving a Ball" are the ONLY words. Golden.
http://www.snowjumpstump.com/cinderella/
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Costume Rant
Costumes. Like actors, you can't live with them and without them there's no show.
Always be sure to put your body microphone on first, otherwise it is impossible to conceal the battery pack and wire beneath your costume.
Early in the proceedings yesterday, Director1 said just because you have costumes does not mean you can forget everything else. I actually did pretty well. Except for two missed entrances and a missed scene change I was in the zone. It wasn't so much the costumes, as it was the addition of a dressing room. That additional space gives me yet another venue in which to fail to be onstage at my appointed time. You would think after years of doing shows that I would learn to be lurking backstage in case a scene in which I am supposed to participate should come up.
But no.
One of the top ten worst things in theater is to hear the shouted message - CHRIS! You're needed onstage. As the King's Valet. Again. And then Choreographer1 kindly asked if it were a costuming problem. No, Choreographer1, costume's fine. It was more of an idiocy problem. A user error, if you will. Once again, this time in the scene in which the prince is giving a Ball. Hey look, I'm not supposed to be over here. I'm supposed to be on that side of the stage over there. Costume? Well, I couldn't get out of my armor from the previous scene quickly enough.
Sounds like a personal problem. Fail.
And did things seem like they fit better at the costume shop on Howard Street? Did the trip to Dundalk cause shrinkage? Seems to me I wore a T-shirt at the fitting, which may be why the armpit chafing problem was not as much of an issue until now. And another thing about Howard Street. Costumer George treated me with great patience and kindness, but he kept telling me Take your time! Do you always get dressed this quickly? What's your rush? Answer: This is a theatrical costume operation, yes? More frequently than not there is a limited time window for changing from one costume to another. I suggested to Cindy1 that singing the extended dance mix version of her first song would allow me addtional time to change, but I'm not holding my breath for that.
It must be said the costumes look fabulous, but did they really dress that way back then? How did they have time for anything else besides dressing?
And there is one thing I do not wish to hear repeated after getting the last thing laced, buttoned, snapped, Velcroed and tied - Chris, is this your microphone over here?
Always be sure to put your body microphone on first, otherwise it is impossible to conceal the battery pack and wire beneath your costume.
Early in the proceedings yesterday, Director1 said just because you have costumes does not mean you can forget everything else. I actually did pretty well. Except for two missed entrances and a missed scene change I was in the zone. It wasn't so much the costumes, as it was the addition of a dressing room. That additional space gives me yet another venue in which to fail to be onstage at my appointed time. You would think after years of doing shows that I would learn to be lurking backstage in case a scene in which I am supposed to participate should come up.
But no.
One of the top ten worst things in theater is to hear the shouted message - CHRIS! You're needed onstage. As the King's Valet. Again. And then Choreographer1 kindly asked if it were a costuming problem. No, Choreographer1, costume's fine. It was more of an idiocy problem. A user error, if you will. Once again, this time in the scene in which the prince is giving a Ball. Hey look, I'm not supposed to be over here. I'm supposed to be on that side of the stage over there. Costume? Well, I couldn't get out of my armor from the previous scene quickly enough.
Sounds like a personal problem. Fail.
And did things seem like they fit better at the costume shop on Howard Street? Did the trip to Dundalk cause shrinkage? Seems to me I wore a T-shirt at the fitting, which may be why the armpit chafing problem was not as much of an issue until now. And another thing about Howard Street. Costumer George treated me with great patience and kindness, but he kept telling me Take your time! Do you always get dressed this quickly? What's your rush? Answer: This is a theatrical costume operation, yes? More frequently than not there is a limited time window for changing from one costume to another. I suggested to Cindy1 that singing the extended dance mix version of her first song would allow me addtional time to change, but I'm not holding my breath for that.
It must be said the costumes look fabulous, but did they really dress that way back then? How did they have time for anything else besides dressing?
And there is one thing I do not wish to hear repeated after getting the last thing laced, buttoned, snapped, Velcroed and tied - Chris, is this your microphone over here?
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Step back from that ledge!
For some reason I stowed away under the stage to observe the mice/horse transformation, and boy was it essay-worthy. Four puppet actors, four dancing horse women and a tech all in a space smaller than my Yugo. (Note: I don't really own a Yugo, this is just a comedic device. Do you even know what a Yugo is?)
Fairy Godmother casts a spell on the mice, which causes the puppet actors to have to exit to the floor below from the tiny ledge on which they are perched (wedged might be a better word). Their options for egress are a small step ladder and a rickety table. Simultaneously, a staircase to the stage has to be placed on the ledge by tech man, and the four dancing horse women have to ascend to the ledge, climb up the stairs and get on stage. Their options for ascent are a small stepladder and a rickety table. The same ones! Which are still being used by the departing puppet actors. The process took about 30 minutes when I observed it, but director's note on the matter seemed to indicate he was looking for something more in the neighborhood of 5 seconds.
Not to worry. The Department of Stage Innovation has researched the matter and has developed the following recommendations for improving the efficiency of this process.
1. Trampoline. This will enable the puppet actors the quickest possible exit - jumping off the ledge. Once the puppet actors are comfortable jumping off the ledge, a couple bounces on a trampoline is just the thing to soothe that performance stress. Cannonball!
2. Fireman's pole. You don't see firemen answering the call going down pokey, slow stairs, or clambering over rickety tables. Folks in a hurry go for the pole (you keep your salacious thoughts to yourself).
3. Sliding board. They evacuate planes this way, inspired by small children evacuating high points in playgrounds. Efficient and fun.
4. Another stepladder. To replace the rickety table. Perhaps one-way traffic on each stepladder would create the dramatic sought-after traffic flow improvement. Look what it did for Charles Street and St. Paul Street in Baltimore.
5. Water soluble personal lubricant. It seems like one component of the problem is friction. And I read in a major mainstream publication that this product reduces friction. I've also heard from mainstream advertising on legitimate broadcast, on-line, and print media that it is available at major retailers.
Further research is warranted. Watch for The Department of Stage Innovation's volunteer recruiting campaign to determine which option is optimal, and sign up today. It's all in the name of Science. You wouldn't stand in the way of Science, would you?
Fairy Godmother casts a spell on the mice, which causes the puppet actors to have to exit to the floor below from the tiny ledge on which they are perched (wedged might be a better word). Their options for egress are a small step ladder and a rickety table. Simultaneously, a staircase to the stage has to be placed on the ledge by tech man, and the four dancing horse women have to ascend to the ledge, climb up the stairs and get on stage. Their options for ascent are a small stepladder and a rickety table. The same ones! Which are still being used by the departing puppet actors. The process took about 30 minutes when I observed it, but director's note on the matter seemed to indicate he was looking for something more in the neighborhood of 5 seconds.
Not to worry. The Department of Stage Innovation has researched the matter and has developed the following recommendations for improving the efficiency of this process.
1. Trampoline. This will enable the puppet actors the quickest possible exit - jumping off the ledge. Once the puppet actors are comfortable jumping off the ledge, a couple bounces on a trampoline is just the thing to soothe that performance stress. Cannonball!
2. Fireman's pole. You don't see firemen answering the call going down pokey, slow stairs, or clambering over rickety tables. Folks in a hurry go for the pole (you keep your salacious thoughts to yourself).
3. Sliding board. They evacuate planes this way, inspired by small children evacuating high points in playgrounds. Efficient and fun.
4. Another stepladder. To replace the rickety table. Perhaps one-way traffic on each stepladder would create the dramatic sought-after traffic flow improvement. Look what it did for Charles Street and St. Paul Street in Baltimore.
5. Water soluble personal lubricant. It seems like one component of the problem is friction. And I read in a major mainstream publication that this product reduces friction. I've also heard from mainstream advertising on legitimate broadcast, on-line, and print media that it is available at major retailers.
Further research is warranted. Watch for The Department of Stage Innovation's volunteer recruiting campaign to determine which option is optimal, and sign up today. It's all in the name of Science. You wouldn't stand in the way of Science, would you?
Zen and the Art of...
Thursday's rehearsal with the orchestra was boring. I mean this in the best possible way. It is the first time I can say this, and being a part of this production has been very good for me in many ways, but there it is. I found my mind wandering to other places. Here's one.
I'm a biker. My bike is a 1974 Honda CB360. It gets the job done OK, although one female friend advised me that if I expected to attract chicks with a motorcycle I would have to upgrade. I thanked her for her input.
I got the bike started last week, but only one of the two cylinders was firing. This is a fairly frequent occurrence. Once I was riding on Rt 152 and suddenly I seemed to have only half a bike under me, but I made it home on the one cylinder. Barely.
Usually the culprit is clogged carb jets. What you have to do is remove the float bowl on the offending carb. You need to use a stubby Philips head screwdriver to remove the four screws, and you have to be a contortionist to get to the inner two screws, but it can be done. Then the two jets have to be unscrewed from the bottom of the carb with a stubby flat blade screwdriver, and the tiny little holes have to be cleared with some combination of mouth air and very delicate wire. The Rt 152 crisis was my first experience with this process, and I found the jet lying in the bottom of the float bowl - not attached to the carb at all! This led me to believe that it was not properly tightened in the shop, and that in some situations I am superior to the shop. You reassemble everything and Shazam, happy bike.
Only not this time. Still not firing. Looked at the spark plugs, seemed ok. Looked at the spark plug wires. Aha! The spark plug wire end fits rather loosely onto the wire itself. Maybe too loosely in this case. Some finagling and Oh Mighty Isis, happy bike. Golden!
Until I tried to start it the next day. Firing on only one cylinder. But this time it's THE OTHER ONE. So the assignment will be to repeat the whole process on the now non-firing side. And don't get me wrong, I enjoy farting around for an afternoon with motorcycle repair. Dirt under my nails, soaked in gas and oil. But who has the time?
Maybe I should just upgrade.
I'm a biker. My bike is a 1974 Honda CB360. It gets the job done OK, although one female friend advised me that if I expected to attract chicks with a motorcycle I would have to upgrade. I thanked her for her input.
I got the bike started last week, but only one of the two cylinders was firing. This is a fairly frequent occurrence. Once I was riding on Rt 152 and suddenly I seemed to have only half a bike under me, but I made it home on the one cylinder. Barely.
Usually the culprit is clogged carb jets. What you have to do is remove the float bowl on the offending carb. You need to use a stubby Philips head screwdriver to remove the four screws, and you have to be a contortionist to get to the inner two screws, but it can be done. Then the two jets have to be unscrewed from the bottom of the carb with a stubby flat blade screwdriver, and the tiny little holes have to be cleared with some combination of mouth air and very delicate wire. The Rt 152 crisis was my first experience with this process, and I found the jet lying in the bottom of the float bowl - not attached to the carb at all! This led me to believe that it was not properly tightened in the shop, and that in some situations I am superior to the shop. You reassemble everything and Shazam, happy bike.
Only not this time. Still not firing. Looked at the spark plugs, seemed ok. Looked at the spark plug wires. Aha! The spark plug wire end fits rather loosely onto the wire itself. Maybe too loosely in this case. Some finagling and Oh Mighty Isis, happy bike. Golden!
Until I tried to start it the next day. Firing on only one cylinder. But this time it's THE OTHER ONE. So the assignment will be to repeat the whole process on the now non-firing side. And don't get me wrong, I enjoy farting around for an afternoon with motorcycle repair. Dirt under my nails, soaked in gas and oil. But who has the time?
Maybe I should just upgrade.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Old Bicycles, Horses, and MacGyver
One day when I was just a lad my mother brought home a bicycle for me. Was this the Fuji 10-speed I had been wishing for (and which was highly rated by Consumer Reports)? I had been wanting this bike for months, expecially since I had outgrown my Montgomery Ward internal hub 3-speed banana seat bike. That bike was cool. It had a speedometer and a generator headlight, but it was time to move on. So anyway, was this the Fuji?
No.
This was a yard sale find. Faded red fenders, bald tires, warped, rusty rims. Think it might have been a Murray. Pretty sure it wasn't a Huffy or an Iverson.
I was speechless.
Eventually I came around and bought new tires and tubes, oiled the chain, and got down to the business of riding this bike. One thing I never quite got used to was the bearing at the top of the steering shaft. Under normal use it creaked embarrasingly like Cindy's step-sister's knee, but for extreme turns the bearings snapped in a loud and disturbing way. I never did anything about it, but if I did it would require at least greasing that bearing and at most replacing it.
This all came to mind the other day during our warm-up. Choreographer 1's instruction: Left and center, right and center. My neck! The noises my neck makes during this warmup take me right back to that Murray bike, and make me wonder if I shall ever have to grease or replace some of my anatomy. Memory can be a funny thing.
Have you observed Cinderella's horses? It is an incredible thing. The dancing girls don these horse heads and dance to the song Impossible. And here's the thing. The horse heads are sound-proof, vision-proof, and air-proof. So this dance takes place without the Dancing Horse Girls being able to hear the music, see each other or the treacherous hole in the floor, or breathe. And even so it's spectacular.
The scenery stairs we've been promised have materialized and we finally used them! It wasn't easy, believe me. My blocking calls for me to enter the landing from the back. The back is at about eye level. As Bugs Bunny once said, "Watch that first step. It's a doozy." Using MacGyver-like ingenuity, I formulated a plan. In the scrap wood I found a flexible dowel rod about seven feet long. With a running start, and carrying the dowel at chest height I planted the end at the edge of the stage flooring, and held on as the pole flexed and launched me vertically to the top stair. My landing was perfect and amazingly - NOBODY SAW. The worst part is that I realized I had forgotten my trumpet. So I walked down the stairs and retrieved it. And no, I did not repeat the pole vault exercise holding the trumpet.
That would have been ridiculous.
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