This is the second rule of theatre. In the truest sense it means: When you discover a moment in a story – a truthful moment – it will happen again and again, even more naturally as you incorporate it. But of course, as you might have guessed, it’s not always that positive. It can also mean that if something goes wrong, it can go wrong again and again until it’s truly fixed.
With this knowledge, I present to you this week’s blog.
I left off last week, telling you about our interesting “keep-me-on-my-toes” preview, in which, among other things, the wooden leg of our table snapped when Vincent (Tremblay) leaned too hard on it.
The next day is the big Opening Night – the true unveiling of the show to patrons, subscribers, colleagues, friends, reviewers, peers and more.
I’m happy to say that it went super well. This is in part due to a minor miracle from our designer Cory Sincennes. He tracked down and found the exact wooden table leg to match our other table on set. (Thanks to friend/angel Jim Meer at the Citadel who helped out, giving us one they had in stock and had no present use for.) Cory called me with the news the morning of opening and, after our disastrous night before, it felt a little like winning the lottery. Okay, maybe not that good. But to say I was happy was an understatement. Our Technical Director, Paul Bezaire, was perhaps even happier to hear this. To replace a section of the table is much easier, and more effective, than trying to find two new tables that match, that are also in the aesthetic that Cory was attempting to create (a run down St. Petersburg bar in 1969) - and only a few hours to do it in. So yes, to use a baseball analogy, Cory hit a huge home run late in the bottom of the ninth inning.
The news also meant that maybe – just maybe – luck was turning our way.
The whole week went great in fact and the show settled into its run without any major mishaps beyond the normal realm of a theatre performance. Meaning, yes things were still tried and dropped and changed but the show was now a well-oiled machine.
On the second weekend of the run, we celebrated the era of the play – 1960s – and the production, hosting a “Party Like It’s 1969!” post-show shindig for audience and friends of our Board. Kind of like a “friend-raiser” type of event. We partied up or down to the beats from the 1960’s with our extraordinary sound designer Dave Clarke spinning the beats for us (staff, friends and some board members) to dance in our lobby until the wee hours of the morn.
As you can see, everything was going great.
And then the second rule of theatre occurred – if it happened once, it will happen again.
As I was watching the show one evening, the table broke again. It was in the same exact place in the script as the preview night – at the top of Act Two when Tremblay leans on the table. I immediately started to get upset – not with them, not with anyone. Just upset at the situation. I respect the script and the production so much, I hate to see the audience get removed from the experience in any way.
However, as quickly as I got upset, I was suddenly laughing. This time it was WAY funnier. The actors had had it happen before and they knew the play better now, so they were able to riff on it, surf the laughs a little and entertain us. In fact, I found out later, that they entertained us so well that folks there that night thought it was all a part of the show.
It was what I would call a moment of theatre magic.
The next day a steel leg was pulled from our basement, touched up with paint by Paul Bezaire and put into service for the next show. No they did no longer match. However, it was a more solid fix and now Vincent could lean all he wanted too. Sometimes, that’s just more important. I must confess that if we did have the money, I would be more than tempted to break the table leg every night! I’m serious – it was such a great scene.
However, I am happy that me and everyone else there that night were treated to a piece of theatre magic – a hilarious gift that was just for us. Sometimes the things that are going wrong, turn into those perfect moments that you’ll remember for years down the road.
Bradley
PS - Thanks so much for the outpouring of concern for my girl Bella. I'm happy to say that she's doing well - her cone is off and she's already back to her usual antics. (Meaning, my rest is also over!)
With this knowledge, I present to you this week’s blog.
I left off last week, telling you about our interesting “keep-me-on-my-toes” preview, in which, among other things, the wooden leg of our table snapped when Vincent (Tremblay) leaned too hard on it.
The next day is the big Opening Night – the true unveiling of the show to patrons, subscribers, colleagues, friends, reviewers, peers and more.
I’m happy to say that it went super well. This is in part due to a minor miracle from our designer Cory Sincennes. He tracked down and found the exact wooden table leg to match our other table on set. (Thanks to friend/angel Jim Meer at the Citadel who helped out, giving us one they had in stock and had no present use for.) Cory called me with the news the morning of opening and, after our disastrous night before, it felt a little like winning the lottery. Okay, maybe not that good. But to say I was happy was an understatement. Our Technical Director, Paul Bezaire, was perhaps even happier to hear this. To replace a section of the table is much easier, and more effective, than trying to find two new tables that match, that are also in the aesthetic that Cory was attempting to create (a run down St. Petersburg bar in 1969) - and only a few hours to do it in. So yes, to use a baseball analogy, Cory hit a huge home run late in the bottom of the ninth inning.
The news also meant that maybe – just maybe – luck was turning our way.
The whole week went great in fact and the show settled into its run without any major mishaps beyond the normal realm of a theatre performance. Meaning, yes things were still tried and dropped and changed but the show was now a well-oiled machine.
On the second weekend of the run, we celebrated the era of the play – 1960s – and the production, hosting a “Party Like It’s 1969!” post-show shindig for audience and friends of our Board. Kind of like a “friend-raiser” type of event. We partied up or down to the beats from the 1960’s with our extraordinary sound designer Dave Clarke spinning the beats for us (staff, friends and some board members) to dance in our lobby until the wee hours of the morn.
 |
| Giving the camera some 60s lovin' |
As you can see, everything was going great.
And then the second rule of theatre occurred – if it happened once, it will happen again.
As I was watching the show one evening, the table broke again. It was in the same exact place in the script as the preview night – at the top of Act Two when Tremblay leans on the table. I immediately started to get upset – not with them, not with anyone. Just upset at the situation. I respect the script and the production so much, I hate to see the audience get removed from the experience in any way.
However, as quickly as I got upset, I was suddenly laughing. This time it was WAY funnier. The actors had had it happen before and they knew the play better now, so they were able to riff on it, surf the laughs a little and entertain us. In fact, I found out later, that they entertained us so well that folks there that night thought it was all a part of the show.
 |
| Kerouac, Tremblay & the soon-to-be-broken table |
It was what I would call a moment of theatre magic.
The next day a steel leg was pulled from our basement, touched up with paint by Paul Bezaire and put into service for the next show. No they did no longer match. However, it was a more solid fix and now Vincent could lean all he wanted too. Sometimes, that’s just more important. I must confess that if we did have the money, I would be more than tempted to break the table leg every night! I’m serious – it was such a great scene.
However, I am happy that me and everyone else there that night were treated to a piece of theatre magic – a hilarious gift that was just for us. Sometimes the things that are going wrong, turn into those perfect moments that you’ll remember for years down the road.
Bradley
PS - Thanks so much for the outpouring of concern for my girl Bella. I'm happy to say that she's doing well - her cone is off and she's already back to her usual antics. (Meaning, my rest is also over!)
