Heir to the Headset: Apprentice Wanted

No matter how much you love a gig, you probably can't do it forever. The show may go on, but your life will change and grow and take unexpected turns. If you care about an ongoing show, and want to see it entrusted to capable hands when the time comes, plan ahead and train your successor.

This was a subject of discussion when the KC Improv Festival production team recently met to review this year's festival and set goals for the next. 2011 will be my third year as KCiF's stage manager, and like a kid who can wait no longer than January to write to Santa Claus, I'm already excited for it!

Well, Santa, what I need is an apprentice. At least one. I'm getting involved in the opera world again, and who knows what other opportunities and responsibilities may crop up? Maybe I'll luck into a free trip to Italy in September 2012. I'd feel much better about ditching KCiF for that if I know someone's ready to take my place. =)

Maybe an experienced SM who loves improv will show up to take the reins. But this is a volunteer gig, and the people who want to help don't always have experience. So, what traits would I look for in a stage manager? What unique needs does KCiF have that could take someone by surprise, and what personal qualities will help her/him meet those needs? What do I strive for in myself, that I think makes the best contribution to the show?

• A positive attitude toward the craft and the people.
• Calm, supportive energy.
• Confidence.
• Organization, with flexibility.
• Ego-free invisibility.

ATTITUDE & ENERGY
Last week I wrote about finding joy in your work. The importance of positive energy is amplified in improv, because the actors' work comes out of here and now. There haven't been six weeks of rehearsals, character-building, subtext-creating. The actors draw on the energy around them, and there's no faking it.

At the same time, it's not your job to "pump them up." You're working with professionals (in caliber, if not by trade). They will get themselves into the zone that's right for them. If the energy you contribute backstage is frenetic or pushy, you might even damage the balance. Love what the actors do, but don't squeeze them to death!

CONFIDENCE
You have to be personally confident in your decisions, and socially confident with the actors. They need to trust that you're getting them to the right place at the right time, and that any other elements will work properly (which, as we all know, they sometimes don't. Don't lie when things go wrong. Establish trust like a ship's captain: whatever happens, you'll keep your people safe.) Put out the "in charge" vibe without being bossy or condescending. Trust the actors and other production crew to be in place and do their tasks, but don't just assume it's happening: observe and follow up.

ORGANIZATION & FLEXIBILITY
If you stage manage theatre (or, God help you, opera), KCiF will be the easiest gig you've ever done. Your show will have a rhythm, a pattern to follow. One troupe is onstage, the next is warming up, the next is watching from the cast seating area, and it all shifts when the set ends. Don't get too comfy, though! The challenge of improv is in the variations to the pattern.

Timing in improv is far more nebulous than scripted shows. An improv set is over when it's over, whether that's twenty minutes or thirty-five. As such, places calls can be difficult to pin down. This year, we had a couple times when troupes were in standby, quiet backstage please, for nearly ten minutes. It's the nature of this beast.

In KCiF's structure, some things a SM would handle elsewhere are covered by the producer or the venue supervisor. And improv doesn't use sets, props, or costumes, right? So there shouldn't be much to keep track of... Not necessarily! And whatever comes up, you might not know about it until right before the show. Improvisers are prone to last-minute ideas. You have to be able to incorporate a new challenge quickly without freaking out.

INVISIBILITY
Be comfortable with the fact that you are not onstage. Enjoy the new perspective. You are not here to stand out and be noticed: you are part of the inner machinery, the gears that pop the cuckoo out of the clock. Granted, there may be times a task will put you in view of the audience, so don't be shy about doing your job. Anyway, if you spend the whole time wishing you were onstage, you are not fully committed to your work. Silver lining: even though most of the audience doesn't know it, the applause is for you, too. Silver lining 2: the actors will appreciate the hell out of you!

~~~~~

Well, there's the longest job description ever! If it sounds like your kind of thing, or at least something you'd like to try, please get in touch (privately, not as a comment). This is crucial support work for an exciting event, with a truly wonderful group of people.

Stage Managing With a Lot Less Stress, Part 1

As I've been thinking about this and writing drafts, I've discovered more specific angles than I expected. So, I'll just cover a couple of ideas for now.

One of the big things that will help you stay calm, and help you maintain a calm atmosphere for everyone else, is self-awareness. How many times have you snapped at someone who didn't deserve it, because the rest of your day sucked? We don't do it consciously. It's just really easy, when you have a lot to do, to ignore how raw your nerves are, how short your fuse is getting.

No matter how busy you are, it's worth a minute of your time to take stock, and talk yourself off the ledge if you find that's where you are. Do it before everyone gets to rehearsal, or walking from your car. Quiet and alone. My dialogue might go a little like this:

Me: Well, that was a crappy drive. And I didn't get the water bill paid, and I'm still pissed off from talking to Mom*.
Me: Rough day. You sound a little edgy. Be careful not to yell at the singers.
Me: But they're SOOOO careless with their props / talkative during rehearsal / klepto with my pencils!
Me: OMG, they're human. They aren't trying to make your job difficult! And you know damn well you love the work they do, or you wouldn't do this job. You're perfectly capable of giving gentle reminders without going superbitch.
Me: I'll try, I'm just so frazzled!
Me: Then breathe, and leave it behind. You have three hours of rehearsal, and that's three hours that bad drivers, the water bill, and Mom will leave you alone.
Me: Yeah... okay. I guess I do have to be calm and focused.

Another big stress-fighter I want to mention in this first entry is physical health and comfort. If you feel like crap, it affects your mood. Maybe you're so tired you just want to cry for no reason. Maybe your spouse brought a bug home from work, and you're not just sick, you're pissed. Maybe your shoes are giving you blisters. DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!** If all you can think about is how much your body aches, you aren't focused on your work. Someone will come up and surprise you with a question or one-more-thing-to-do, and you'll snap. So make it easier to keep focused by doing things to physically feel better. Get enough rest and eat healthy food. I'm not perfect at this, but I do a better job of it than ten years ago. Get a little exercise. Get a flu shot in the fall, and keep some non-drowsy pain meds in your kit. Be smart about footwear, or anything else that relates to your physical comfort - I keep both a sweater and a hand-fan with my supplies, because temperature fluctuations get to me. Don't skip meals. Keep your water bottle handy. Talk an actor into giving you a shoulder rub during break.

And for the love of Freud, if you are prone to clinical depression, anxiety, anger issues, or other emotional disorders, don't be afraid to see a therapist! I've always been open about the relationship between Prozac and my ability to function as a reasonably sane human. You don't have to be crazy to be a stage manager... because it really doesn't help. I used to think that I looked like a better worker if I made it known how much I had to do and how much stress it caused me. Wrong! I looked like someone who could only handle her job by feeding negativity into the atmosphere. Bad stuff.

Pop quiz: Why would anyone do the job of stage manager? (Go back a few paragraphs for the answer.) If you don't find some fulfillment in the art you're part of creating, if you don't respect the talents of your colleagues, it's probably not the job for you. That's a larger issue than just handling stress, so I'll look at it another time. Now, back to the stress-reducing.

When troubleshooting is a big part of your job, you don't have to look hard for things to feel negative about. Your to-do list gets longer and longer as opening night approaches. But you know what? There are tons of things to love, right in front of you, and enjoying them doesn't detract from your ability or opportunity to fix what needs fixing. In fact, a few happy things in your brain will make your capability and efficiency flow easier. (I don't have a source to cite, but I think I could find a psych study if I looked.)

In the last show I worked, I was struck by the beauty of a particular aria. It nearly brought me to tears, the good kind, every time I heard it. Sure, I'm not at work to be entertained, that's for the audience. But there's no reason the power and beauty can't touch me too. I felt so lucky, even blessed, to get to experience that as part of my job. It became sacred to me, a moment in which (once the show was running) I could lose myself. That's the kind of thing to hold onto when everything else seems ready to come crashing down.



*Hypothetical example. Mom actually hasn't pissed me off for several years, at least not enough to significantly affect my mood.

**h/t Linda Ade Brand

Meet and Greet

In case the title "Stage Manager's Rhapsody" was too subtle, this blog will center around my experiences and discoveries as a stage manager. It's not a gossip blog or personal-gripe blog, though I will sometimes share not-so-positive experiences - and how I cope or what I learn from them. I'll only use names in positive contexts; I'm not here for drama. I'll try to update weekly*, whether I write on a current production or delve back into the past fifteen-or-so years.

I started stage managing in college, having discovered as a dance/theatre major that I had a lot of fun working backstage, and in fact it came to me more easily than performing (I'm very introverted). I doubt many people look at all the available roles in production and say "Hey, there's one with a lot of responsibility, not much creative voice, all kinds of people making demands, and being the one who tells people to be quiet when they're having fun... that's the job for me!" On the other hand, I like meeting challenges. I like making things work smoothly for talented, good-hearted people. I like playing the mother hen. I like feeling needed and appreciated.

After college, I was an ASM in professional opera, and a stage manager, designer, or general techie for as many other shows as I could find the time for - paid or not. Usually not. I produced a couple independent shows, and helped start a magazine about the theatre scene in Kansas City. I was getting interested in directing, too. That all lasted about five years. If I didn't stop to think about it, I felt like I was living the dream, but inside I burned myself out, big and bad. I left the performing arts almost entirely at the end of 2001, and worked in bookstores.

The one link I kept to the performing world was improv. I had been the techie for a comedy troupe called the Hypothetical 7 since '94 or so (minus a couple too-busy years), and I could honestly say at the time that they were the only company with whom I always had fun and always felt respected. They only had a few shows a year, so working with them was a rare treat rather than a constant obligation. In 2007 (when I was ready to move on from bookstores, but didn't know in which direction), Hype 7's founder/director moved away, and I took on some administrative duties so the remaining troupe members could keep playing.

I was soon immersed in improv. It's a much broader artistic discipline than I had ever realized. Hype 7 stepped up the production schedule, and I started making friends in Kansas City's improv scene. I also took a huge leap outside my comfort zone, and started playing and taking classes. It looked so fun, I couldn't stay on the sidelines any longer! I felt like part of a team, when I'm used to being the functional outsider.

I happen to be extremely good at being the functional outsider, though. Improv is fun for me on a small, personal level. The periodic chance to play keeps me sane through the times I have to approach more seriously. When it comes to something high-profile like a festival, I'd much rather stage-manage. I'm doing what I love and am good at, with people who do something else I love and they're outstanding at. Everybody wins!

Now we get to the part where my worlds intersected. In the summer of 2009, friends from the opera days were in town - not merely friends, but my stage management mentor and big sister Lisa, and her husband Ben, a tenor and certified sommelier. We went to a restaurant where an improv friend I admire, Ed, works as a server. It was half-price wine bottle night. Somewhere in the middle of the second bottle, Lisa said that her friend Kathleen needed a stage manager and props person. The job was in Lawrence. I live very near Lawrence. The wine was removing any trepidation I might have had about picking up an old career where I left it, especially as I had left it (in my memory) unpleasantly. I realized I was ready for opera to be part of my life again.

Perhaps what I learned in those years off was to seek balance. Balance between work and play, balance between serving greater needs and meeting my own. Balance between the spontaneity of improv and the precision of opera. I also learned that any job is only worthwhile if I can find joy in it. I took the job in Lawrence, with KU's opera program, and returned this year to work on more shows.

The funny thing is, doing improv has altered how I look at stage management. It used to feel like a battle. I was constantly terrified of fucking up, and of letting anyone else fuck up. Now it's easier for me to accept that imperfections will happen no matter what I do - it's live theatre. Yes, I try to avoid them, but I understand now that the world does not end over a misplaced prop! It's also easier for me to trust the people I work with to do what's needed of them. So I mostly just follow my checklist, call cues, and direct traffic. I keep my eyes open for disasters (on a good day, I spot them before they happen), but with a sense of excitement rather than dread. It's a hell of a lot less stressful.

Next installation: Jenifer's Guide to Stress-Free Stage Management, and How That Doesn't Always Work.

*Um, weekly. Yes. That's why I started this 9/18 and published it 10/5.