VIII – It'll (NEVER) Be Alright on the Night

1. Every Director should know how it feels to be Stage Manager

“The show’s all yours now”. Those are the words I’ve heard directors say to the Stage Manager once the production is ready to go, in the venue, in front of a live audience.

What they’re actually saying is: “I’ve done all I can, you’re now in charge of the final product so if anything goes wrong, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE!!! Oh, and I’ll be watching from the auditorium.”

Last week I was assisting the Stage Manager for Kentish Opera’s Eugene Onegin. It was a beautiful production (directed by Sally Langford), both set-wise (Enid Strutt) and singing-wise, we had good audiences and I was lucky enough to have a clear view from the wings every night (see picture).

But, of course, one has to be prepared for every eventuality. Here are a few examples…

i) Masking the prompt corner wing (where the Stage Manager calls the show from) was a ginormous ‘black’; a roughly 2m wide x 10m tall tower of wood covered in black material, held upright by two attached (or so I thought) sticks of wood set into weights. Every time the tabs (curtain) came in and out for the scene changes, this huge black would get knocked. Eventually this became too much for the two sticks holding it up and, lo and behold, the black began to fall… Luckily the stage manager grabbed it, I ran in to hold it whilst the scene change went on and someone else went to find a theatre manager. The scene change ended up taking 5 minutes longer than planned, and we had to go on to the next scene with me still holding up this enormous thing! All I could think was, if this goes down, I’m going with it; arse over face, on stage in front of everyone… Luckily it got fixed, and the show somehow even finished 3 minutes early…

ii) Props can be a nightmare, but special props are even worse. The shot of a gun in Onegin is rather central to the plot. Watching from the wings, we could hear the bullet (that makes the BANG!) fall out of the gun to the ground before it had been fired. Should we, as backstage crew, make a banging noise from the wings having heard the bullet fall out? Too late; we did not, and Lensky fell to his death at a silent gunshot…

iii) It’s one thing calling the Principals from their dressing rooms if you’ve notice that they're not on stage when they should be (this happened to me as DSM in my last show…) but it’s an extra pint of adrenaline when someone says: “Erm… excuse me Stage Manager, I know we're halfway through the show, but one of the Principals who’s only on in the penultimate scene hasn’t arrived yet…” With this final show going on an hour earlier than the previous four nights, it was highly probable that one person would be unaware of this fact and turn up by the skin of their teeth to get into their costume and on stage just in time…

Here’s the beautiful aria Lensky sings before getting shot (that is, if the gun works…) Also, a note to anyone using fake blood in their productions: it does NOT taste good, despite what the principals promise.

2. No zips on stage!

My brother is currently training to be an accountant. We couldn’t really be further apart in terms of career ambitions. Surprisingly, however, our two very different worlds were brought together yesterday by the Deloitte and Royal Opera House partnership: Ignite.

Two ladies from the costume department at ROH gave us a fascinating insight into how the costumes are made, used, restored and archived. I’ve never heard an audience so intrigued, vivaciously asking questions throughout. Here are some of the things that really stuck with me:

i) A typical costume budget for a new production is around £700,000.

ii) They never use any zips on stage – if it breaks, there’s no quick repair.

iii) One coat (pictured) for Tosca is sent to Denmark to be embroidered each time they have to make a new size. The embroidering is so intricate, you would barely notice the detail from the first row of stalls, let alone up in the Gods! However, designers now have to be very aware of every detail for filmed performances, especially with the recent introduction of 3D screenings!

iv) A cover was once flown in from America when the leading lady was taken ill. She arrived less than an hour before curtain up and had to be fitted into the costume (alongside hair, makeup and stage directions from the director…) in time for the show!

v) Every single costume is kept and they are usually adjusted for the next production revival rather than making new costumes for a new cast.

If only I had £700,000 to spend on my next production…

VII - Befriending Critics and De-friending Other Audience Members

1. Watch as many shows as possible and make friends with the critics

I’m currently reading Stephen Unwin’s So You Want To Be A Theatre DIRECTOR, which has those words in massive writing on the front cover. Ashamedly, I actually feel slightly embarrassed reading it on the tube because I feel like people are looking at me and judging whether they think I’ll make it. Anyway, he is telling me to go to the theatre two or three times a week if possible. He doesn’t sympathize with the 'I can’t afford it' argument: “Why not join the interval crowd and sneak into the second half as I used to?” Well I haven’t been that jammy but I have managed to see two operas for £13.30 this week (three, if you include the dress rehearsals for Kentish Opera’s Eugine Onegin, incidentally running at The Stag this week…)

i) James MacMillan’s Clemency – Linbury Studio Theatre, Royal Opera House

Bit of a spontaneous ticket buy (£13.30 for a ‘student’…) as I really love MacMillan’s work. If you haven’t heard him my favourites are A Child’s Prayer and Christus Vincit. Very atmospheric. This was no different; the male trio passages particularly standing out for me.

Sarah Mitchell directed this production. I loved the set concept in particular which was a gold-plated triptych (religious symbolism) with the joining bits on hinges as if it had been opened up to tell the story. The Stage Right panel contained the kitchen. If the performer exited the kitchen towards Stage Right, he/she would enter the middle panel (living/dining room) from Stage Right. If he/she exited the kitchen towards Stage Left, he/she would appear from Stage Left in the Stage Left panel (I swear at one point I heard the footsteps of 'Abraham' running backstage from one side to the other as fast as possible)… which if closed up on it’s hinges would complete half of the end of the living/dining room. If you’re confused, see my drawing which shows how I worked out the rooms fit together. This occupied half my train ride home but was intensely satisfying, even if the intention was not for the rooms to link up.

ii) The Barber of Seville (or Salisbury)  – OperaUpClose at The King’s Head

Thankfully I was more able to grasp the simple set design of this production and I got to go for free as the plus one of my proper reviewer friend (go to The Gizzle Review to read his take on the production). I made him sit in the front row so we could see the singers’ faces (and spit… and even bogey at one point). This all added to the hilarity of the production and there really were some marvelous facial expressions from ‘Dr. Bartleby’.  I particularly liked the chairs-on-wheels convention, which was used comically and provided distraction from the repetitive score. I also liked the audience participation ‘Figaro Figaro Figaro’ – any chance to sing is welcome by me.

2. Network, network, network... but try not to scare people off...

As a pretty independently-minded young lady, it doesn’t tend to phase me going to networking events and shows on my own. However, this week, I seem to have made two social faux pas.

i) I attended a TV Development Producers Meeting, wanting to hear from the top Commissioning Editors in the business. I had hoped to meet Jan Younghusband in particular, as she is Commissioning Editor for Music and Events at the BBC and trained in opera production at Glyndebourne. There had been a bit of mix up and it turned she couldn’t make it. So there I was, standing chatting to a young production secretary, trying to come across as all grown-up and confident, when a man comes over and introduces himself.

“I’m Mark”.

“Hello, I’m Olivia! And what do you do Mark?”

“I work for the BBC… in the arts…”

“Oh lovely, I work in music production.”

“Well my colleague Jan actually does more of the music stuff whereas I do books and literature etc…”

“Oh right… so is your colleague Jan Younghusband?”

“Yes…”

“So are you Mark Bell… Commissioning Editor for the Arts at the BBC” (i.e. VERY IMPORTANT PERSON WHO I’VE JUST ASKED “AND WHAT DO YOU DO” TOO!!!)

Note to self: next time, study the photos beforehand, as well as the biographies.

ii) My spontaneous ticket-buy meant that I went alone to Clemency. The young man on my right also appeared to be alone and so I struck up a friendly conversation with him. Clearly we had a fair amount to talk about… interest in music, singing, what shows we’d seen. He was German, a little shy and I don’t think he was particularly used to young ladies striking up conversation with him. As soon as we walked out of the studio, he bolted for the exit without so much as a turn to say “Nice to meet you, goodbye” as if he thought I might trap him into going for a drink!!! Well, I can tick off “scaring off young German men” on the things-to-do-before-I-die list… Oh dear.

3. Just keep going!

Marathon-training update:

i) Today I reached my target of completing an Otford circuit in under 45 minutes!!! I even bumped into the 4 boys I babysit for who I hope now think I’m terribly fit and sporty.

ii) Had to part a sea of about 50 young men walking through a field on my very unenergetic run on Tuesday… of course my passers-by banter completely failed me and all I could do was smile and jog on…

iii) Brilliant country-banter later however from the two older men down by the river, who clapped me on as if I was already finishing the marathon…

iv) On same run I did that thing where I was walking… then I saw another runner coming in the opposite direction so I started running again… then as soon as he’d gone I was back to the walking! The thing that made it funny though was that I saw him doing the same thing…

VI - Breaking the Rules; Opera Directing and Peeing on Public Footpaths

1. Don’t always follow the rules*

I recently read an article in the Telegraph arguing that directors who have a love of opera but haven’t actually trained in opera should stay away from the art form. Terry Gilliam, an opera debutant, has completely proved this statement wrong with his vastly imaginative and captivating handling of Belioz’s The Damnation of Faust, which opened on Friday night with English National Opera.*

I was fortunate enough to be invited to the first dress rehearsal by a friend. I like attending dress rehearsals because:
a) It’s almost as good as the real thing only for very cheap/free. 
b) It’s a comfort to see that even the most professional production companies still have things going wrong not long before opening night...

On this occasion, after a striking tableau of Faust (Peter Hoare) being crucified upside-down on a highly suspended Swastika (the concept was German art and history, late 1800s – mid-1900s), the audience could hear the technical staff shouting ‘HEADS! HEADS!’ behind the curtain, followed by ‘SHUSH SHUSH’ to the ensemble as they prepared for another provocative and strategically-complicated spectacle. I could only imagine poor Faust, dangling from the ceiling, blood rushing to his head whilst chorus members dashed obliviously underneath him...

The video projections, however, were faultless. Gilliam, with video designer Finn Ross, created some immense images portraying, most memorably, explosive war scenes and a motorbike ride through the forest. I am always interested to see how directors incorporate digital elements into their shows and this production reflected Gilliam’s true film and animation expertise.

GO TO SEE IT IF YOU CAN, ESPECIALLY IF YOU’RE AN OPERA VIRGIN!**

2. Find a hair stylist you can trust

Saturday night I babysat girl - 8, boy - 5 and girl - 3. They are incredibly cute but an hour and a half before bed is a lot of time to fill. Indeed, the Mum instructed me: “just help yourself to the wine in the fridge once they’re all in bed… trust me, you’ll need it!” 'Hairdressers' seemed like a great idea until I was dragged onto the tiny pink customer’s stool. See right for outcome…

Next, it was 'doctors'. As a patient, I was slighting concerned when the boy brought out his DIY toolkit to treat me. We spent the thirty minutes before bedtime drilling various limbs together. I then spent thirty minutes after bedtime rearranging my hair.

3. Music can give you energy

Update on marathon training:

- I’ve shaved two minutes off my original Otford circuit time (sure I would have made an immense PB on Saturday had the woman on the horse not yelled at me…)

- I’ve encountered two men on two separate occasions relieving themselves at the side of the track (PUBLIC footpath anyone?!)

- My witty banter to passers-by needs improvement: “Try not to melt!” is my best line so far…

- Played Flowers (Sunship Edit) - Sweet Female Attitude (what a GREAT band name) about six times on my last circuit. Top tune (although somehow the bass synthy-thing reminds me of Wonderful Christmastime…)

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*Video links about this production:

Terry Gilliam speaks to The Guardian

ENO – Terry Gilliam talks about 'shaking your fat'
Please also find production trailer on the ENO homepage. I am interested to know how much the actual director is consulted in these opera trailers. Today, it's all part of the artistic package and I would want to be heavily involved so as to accurately represent the production.

**PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS NOT A REVIEW. There has been some blogosphere debate as to whether critics should be allowed to review preview nights but I am sure they would all agree that reviewing a first dress rehearsal would be a step too far! These are merely some comments and observations of an aspiring director. Click here for an interesting article about the role of the critic today, following a Young People in the Arts event.

V - Performing with balls (of ice-cream)

1. Props can be unpredictable

And so the moment to top all moments in Howie’s Hall of Shamelessness arrived… Je T’Aimey’s cabaret. This was billed as a weird and wonderful evening of nipple tassels, soul and… ice-cream, upstairs at Islington’s The Lexington. My act, Livvy Licklots, was inspired by Surrey Opera’s recent production of Gilbert & Sullivan’s The Gondoliers (this fantastic semi-professional company, who I Assistant Direct for, can make anything out of anything; they kindly lent me the punting pole…) as well as my safety-net of a song; Big Spender. (I get greeted by some of my Mancunian friends with the infamous riff duh duh de duh drrrruh dem…).

As I stood nervously at the bar, clutching my punting pole and wishing that I’d left my Cornetto in the freezer just a tad longer, I wondered how Je’Taimey had convinced me to perform after a couple of West End stars and a pretty astonishing Burlesque act (you haven’t experienced amazing breasts until you’ve experienced Duchess Divine). Before I knew it, her clothes were off and I was ‘punting’ to the stage, navigating my way (in the highest heels I’ve ever attempted) between the cabaret tables, fairy lights, steps up to the stage and to the microphone… no backing out now!

My arm lifted into the air as the piano tinkled higher, and then I reached into my corseted cleavage to retrieve the Cornetto… “Just a Oneeeee Cornettoooo!!!” Thankfully my voice worked, and although it doesn’t match the Gondolier man from the Cornetto advert, I like to think it’s a pretty admirable attempt for a woman. The crowd clapped as I eventually found the high note, bowed and ripped off the wrapper, taking a lick of ice-cream as the tune changed to… duh duh de duh drrruh dem…

The minute I ripped off your wrap (DUH DUM)

I could taste you were a cone of distinction… a walls cornetto…

etc…

(My proudest line was:

Good lickin’, you’ll do the job,

Say wouldn’t you like to know what’s going on in my GOB!)

At that precise moment in fact, Cornetto having suffered slightly from the heat of the lights, a huge ball of ice-cream flung off the cone, narrowly missed Chris (the wonderful accompanist/Musical Director) and landed on the back-curtain! This was all too much for the crowd and myself (I had to take a moment to recoup) but I felt it was what was needed to make my act so… special.

You can imagine the remainder (or come to the next show to see for yourself) but I think Je T’Aimey (aka Amy Dowd who made a marvelous host and performer) put it bluntly, summing up: “Only Olivia would have the balls to do that”.

2. Be memorable at interviews

Talking of balls, (or maybe bulls***), have you seen the new Apprentice Candidates?! The BBC certainly knows how to create a buzz, using the show’s website as a preview platform for us to pre-judge this year’s candidates a week in advance, and already cause a Twitter stir (a Twitstir?)

My favourite interview quotes are:

“Maybe Lord Sugar will think this guy’s too sweet to be wholesome”.

“The Apprentice is a bit like… The Olympics”.

“I’m driven… I’m hungry”.

“Why would an Eskimo buy ice?” …

Also, look out for this year’s Stuart Baggs, Mr I’ve-Done-It-All Gavin Winstanley.

That’s definitely a show in which I’d prefer to be behind the cameras.