Rehearsal: Schedule it SDRAWKCAB

Putting on a play is a huge time commitment. For most of us, the greatest amount of time is spent in rehearsal. A good rehearsal schedule can make the most of the time that you have.

The rehearsal process takes time, and most of all it takes the director's time- because you and your stage manager will be there for EVERY rehearsal. Some directors call ALL the actors to EVERY rehearsal, but I think that is just actor abuse! After the first couple of read through rehearsals, I only call the actors to rehearsal who are actually needed for those scenes that we will be working on for that rehearsal.

How long does it take to rehearse a show up to performance? Obviously, a long play will take more time than a short play, a complicated play takes more time than a simple, straight forward play. The general rule of thumb is one hour of rehearsal for each minute on stage.  A full length (about 2 hours) "regular" or "straight" play- that is, modern language, not a musical- will take about 100 to 120 hours rehearsal time, spread out over 4 weeks to 4 months (depending on what hours you have available to rehearse). A more complex play, such as a musical with songs, choreography, and so on, or Shakespeare or another classical or "language" play, may take more time.

The above figures are JUST rehearsal time- not director planning time, actor studying lines time, costume sewing time. JUST REHEARSAL TIME!

How do you schedule this time? First, I work backwards from performance date.

From bottom to top: Let's say that most weeks we have 4 hours on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays to rehearse. Let's say we are going to perform on April 27, 28, 29, and we can start rehearsals in late February. I would write down the weeks like this:

Monday Feb 26

Tuesday Feb 27

Wed Feb 28

Thurs Mar 1

Mon Mar 5

Tues Mar 6

… and so on for the full length of the rehearsal period.  Then, I fill in the dates BACKWARDS, starting at the bottom:

April 27: OPENING NIGHT! SHOW TIME!

Then I know that April 26 would be final dress, and working backwards, that week would be tech week.

April 22: Tech rehearsal

April 23: Tech run through

April 24: Dress run

April 25: Dress run

April 26: Final dress

April 27: OPENING NIGHT! SHOW TIME!

The week before tech week should be run throughs. First, you will  run throughs of acts or first and second halves of the show, with time reserved for working trouble spots that arise. Then you will do run throughs of the entire show.

This will leave you a few weeks between your first rehearsal and your first run throughs.

You can start filling in from the top now .

Now that the rough schedule is ready, let’s look at the types of rehearsals in chronological order.

From top to bottom: The first few rehearsals would call everyone for read through/ talk through. Usually there will be a design presentation in that first week.  The designers will share with the actors the preliminary designs, especially for set and costumes. This helps the actors envision the world they will soon bring to life! In early rehearsals, we may do some improvisation and character work.

Then working rehearsals begin. These rehearsals are organized by groups of actors. You may choose several different scenes from different sections of the play because they share the same group of actors. So, in the example I’m currently using, a particular Monday might call Francisco, Bernardo, Horatio, Marcellus, and the Ghost at 6:00. At 7:00 Francisco is dismissed, and Hamlet is called, while retaining the rest of the actors. At 9:00, the Ghost is dismissed.

 
Monday, March 5: 6:00-10:00 pm: 6:00 - 7: 00 Act 1 Scene 1: Horatio, Marcellus, Francisco, Bernardo, Ghost 7:00 pm DISMISS  Francisco; ADD Hamlet 7:00-9:00 Act 1 scene 4, Hamlet, Horatio, Marcellus, Ghost; Act 1 scene 5 9:00 PM DISMISS Ghost 9:00- 10:00 Act 2 scene 2, from entrance of Horatio and Marcellus and Bernardo.

In these working rehearsals, we establish blocking:  the movements on stage, the entrances and exits. We stop often, review what we have done, tweak where necessary. In working rehearsals, we work. We stop and start, we make changes, we try something different. We do it again.

In a perfect world, we will work every scene in detail at least once in time for those run throughs!

Run throughs: In the working rehearsals, we stop and start. In run throughs, we run the section without stopping, and give notes after the run through. With a longer show, acts may be run before run throughs of the entire show.  In working rehearsals, we broke the play down into individual moments. In run throughs, we put the play back together, working on flow and connectivity.

A week of run throughs is ideal! It doesn’t always happen. However, I strive mightily to have at least two run throughs of the entire show before tech week.

Before the first tech rehearsal with actors, there is often a paper tech with designers, director, and stage manager. This is where the cues for lighting, sound, and scenic changes are determined.

The first tech rehearsal with the actors can be grueling. Actors begin a scene and the stage manager calls out “Hold!” at any moment for a lighting cue, scenic adjustment, sound level, or any of the myriad of technical aspects of the production that are now added. After the cue-to-cue, there is a tech run. There may still be stops and starts, but far fewer. The director may give notes to actors, but definitely gives notes to the tech team.

Costumes are added at the dress rehearsal. Actors work on keeping the flow going while now also incorporating costume changes. The director gives notes to actors and to the tech team after the rehearsal.

The final dress tech rehearsal strives for show conditions. The rehearsal begins at the same time as the performances will begin, and there is no stopping and starting. This may be the last time the director gives notes! Once it’s showtime, the show belongs to the actors and the crew- and the stage manager!

What do you do, exactly?

"So," my friend said. "You're the director, right? So what do you do, exactly?"

She'd just watched the play I directed. It was the first time she'd seen a play that I'd directed; I think it was the first time she'd watched a play when she knew the director personally.

Great question. It's also a tough question to answer for a theater person talking to a non-theater person.

I've written before about the value of the director. There, I noted that the work of the director is often almost invisible to the audience.

What do I do?

Often, I choose the play. Sometimes I'm invited to direct a play that has been chosen by the producer or the theater company. Sometimes, I write the play!

Usually, I cast the play. I've written about this a time or two. Casting is an important part of the director's work. Finding actors that fit the characters, and actors that work well together, and work well with the director, is a delicate and challenging job.

With the stage manager, I work out the rehearsal schedule.

I work with the designers- scenic, costume, sound, lighting, promotion- in creating a unified look, sound, feel for the production.

I lead the actors in rehearsing the play. This is the largest part of the director's work, certainly in terms of time. For me, one of the most critical, and hardest to define, elements of this process is creating ensemble. I work to create an atmosphere of trust and freedom, which I believe is essential to the creative process.

Together with the actors, we study the script in depth. Who are these characters? What are they doing? Why are they taking these actions? What does all of this mean?

Then, we "put the play on its feet." Blocking is the choreographing of the characters' movements on the stage. In my process, this is a shared discovery with the actors. Moving in the outline of our set in the rehearsal hall, we find when characters are approaching one another, when fleeing from one another. When are they embracing, or longing to embrace? When are they retreating? When are they attacking?

And why are they moving? All action on stage must have purpose.

Much of this work is breaking the action down, moment by moment, beat by beat. Then we have the task of putting it all back together. I watch while we run through first the acts, then the entire play.

I take notes. I've written about how I give notes.

These are the main tasks of the director. However, what I do is really difficult to describe. I'm the first, best, most appreciative and most critical audience eye for the production. I take a blueprint on the page, and a group of individuals, and create a unity, a oneness, an ensemble.
 

Take note: That's what I'm giving*

I actually enjoy giving director's notes to the cast.

During much of the rehearsal period, as a director, you are breaking the play down into scenes, into moments. I am very vocal during this period, jumping to my feet YES! or ACK! Stop! Do it again- think about where you just were! What do you want?

Later on, however, we have to put it all back together, establish continuity, rhythm, pace, the long arcs of the characters and of the play itself. We can't stop. We run through, all the way through the scene, the act, finally the entire play.

While I, like most directors, take notes.

Sometimes, because the hour is late and actors (and I) have to go home, I type up the notes and email them to the actors after I've returned home. I don't like to do this because A) actors may not understand a specific note, B) actors may not read the notes and C) I like to give notes.

I like to give notes. I do. I make eye contact. I make jokes. I exaggerate, exhort, and expound. I prance and I posture, I prod and I praise.

From time to time, I may have to shush the actors who are starting side conversations. After all, for many years, the actors with whom I have worked have been teens.

Still, all in all, I have fun giving notes, and the actors have fun receiving the notes.

Here are some of the key ingredients for good note-giving:

• Make eye contact. Make sure the actors are listening.
• EVERY actor should receive a comment. Each actor should know that they are important, and that their work is (literally) noted.
• Use humor. I use a lot of humor at my own expense... I tease and challenge them to be bigger, bolder, more energized than this "old lady"
• Catch them doing something right; be specific about when it happened, and what it was. Comments like "you're great" or "good job" might feel good for a moment, but they don't tell the actor where they are succeeding or how to build on that success. A comment like: "I could really see you focus on the other character on your line 'Not now, darling''" tells the actor what is working and when.
• Be specific about what you want the actor to change. Comments such as "That's no good" or "I didn't like that" again do not give the actor any useful information. A comment like "When you enter in scene two, try rushing straight to the couch- remember what just happened to the character before you entered" gives the actor useful information about what needs work in the scene, and a suggestion for a new approach.
• I try to give both the "director's reason" and the "actor's reason" for a direction. For instance, in the above example, I might remind the actor that the actor's reason- the character's reason- for rushing in is that the character is escaping from an uncomfortable encounter in the other room; while I will admit that my "director's reason" for asking you to rush in and cross to the couch is that the scene needs more energy, and I need you out of the doorway!
• Be a believer. Believe in the play, believe in your actors, believe in theater magic. Keep cheering, keep watching, noting, and sharing what you see. Eventually, it all comes together- how? It's a mystery!

*This is a re-post that I re-read and re-felt today. FINAL DRESS TECH TONIGHT

You have to laugh

Read more about Unshelved and get your tickets here.

Unshelved is a drama that deals with painful, often tragic struggles within a family. It does so with depth, compassion, insight.

And laughter.

You might think that a play in which a devastating disease like Alzheimer’s plays a central role would be dark and troubling. Unshelved has those moments, without question.

What is surprising and delightful about this play, however, is how often it makes you laugh. Out loud.

The family in Unshelved is like my family, like your family. There is love, and there is caring. There is resentment and bitterness, at times. That’s what happens in the hard times.

And also, there is snark.

There are moments when jokes are made, good and bad. When the wrong thing is said at just the right time.

Because, we are human beings. That’s what we do. We laugh at each other. We laugh at ourselves. It’s what helps us make it through the day.

Or the long, dark night.

As we are working our way through rehearsals, we are discovering moments of depth, moments of connection, moments that stop your heart.

And we are also laughing out loud.

At one point in the play, Bill says, “You have to laugh.”

He’s right. You do have to laugh. Because life, even at its most challenging moments, can be surprising, absurd, ridiculous. Because being human is a rich and complicated experience. Because, sometimes, you have to smile. Snort. Laugh.

* Use discount code "Audrey10" when ordering to save $10 on your ticket!

Beginnings

When, exactly, does the theatrical production begin?

With the playwright’s final draft of the script? This is a blue print only; the show itself will be a completely different production with each cast and crew. Theater is a collaborative art. Still, the playwright is the genesis of the play, without a doubt.

Does the production begin with the first production meeting? The director and the designers gather to share the vision for the production. The artists who will collaborate to shape the visual and aural impact of the production share their ideas and insights about this play. This particular incarnation of the show begins to be realized with this first production meeting.

Or does the production begin with the first rehearsal? The actors gather with the director and production stage manager to share a close reading of the script- out loud—together—for the first time.

Any of these might be considered the beginning of the production.

Our first rehearsal for Unshelved was this week. Frigid temperatures and piles of snow did not deter our intrepid cast from meeting – for the first time.

A first rehearsal is something like a first date- but you already know that you are married. You’ve already committed. There is no turning back!

For the director, seeing the actors assembled and hearing them read together for the first time is exciting—but it can also provoke a bit of nervousness. Will the right relationships happen with these actors? As a guest director, I traveled to Chicago months before rehearsals were to begin for the auditions and casting. Time constraints meant that although I saw each of my actors several times, I didn’t have the opportunity to see these actors working together. I knew, I had every confidence, that this was my Audrey, this was my Bill, this was my Rye, this was my Eloise. Yet I hadn’t seen Debra working with Mike; I hadn’t seen Johnny working with Michelle.

Will this assembly work?

I am happy to report that this assembly will work, and work beautifully.

For more information on how you can engage with this production- at every "stage" of the process- click here.

*Use discount code "Audrey10" when ordering your ticket to save $10!

I'm positive

I've been working diligently at phrasing my direction in a positive manner.

This is much harder than one might think. What we notice first, almost always, is what is not working. The tremendous temptation is to say: "Don't ______"


Don't push.

Don't drop the end of the line.

Don't rush.

In directing-- in fact, in any guiding/teaching/parenting/whatever-- what NOT to do is not especially useful information. Even if the actor (student/child/whatever) wants to follow the suggestion, what they have is what to DON'T. I haven't given the actor what to DO.


While always reminding my actor that these are suggestions or guides, I try to give more positive information:

Relax. Allow yourself to search to find the right words.


Lift the end of your line.


Take your time; allow the action to unfold.


Here's a tip shared with me by another director: Use "and" instead of "but". As soon as we hear the word "but," we stop listening because we're anticipating criticism. We are fearful of being judged; we shut down. Hearing the word "and," on the other hand, we anticipate addition, building, growth.


This:


I like the way you focus on the exchange between Fred and Mary, but try to interrupt them sooner with your line.


Or this:


I like the way you focus on the exchange between Fred and Mary, and if you interrupt them sooner with your line, it will intensify that tension.


Which would you prefer to hear?

I hate this play (again)

It's that time again.

Actors are calling for "line!" right and left. Entrances are late. Props are forgotten.

I have given the same note to the same actor EIGHTEEN TIMES.

(Well, maybe only twelve. Okay, maybe only seven. BUT A LOT, OKAY?)

It looks like tech is just around the corner.

If I didn't know, from long experience, that this always happens, I would be more panicked than I am.

But, this always happens.

And, of course, I always panic.

I understand why it happens: We've pulled the play apart to work on individual moments, and now it feels like bits and pieces of something that will never come together.

It's hard to get the overall sweep of the play, when working the individual moments/scenes/details.

Especially with Brecht's deliberately episodic structure.

AND of course the actors are not confident of their lines...

So I panic.

I always do.

But- usually- somehow, through theater magic, it all comes together.

Here is hoping that theater magic is about to happen!

Directing Good People in Good Person

I am not one of those directors that sits down with the script and plans the entire

mise en scène. No. I am one of those directors that works with the living, breathing actors and discovers new possibilities at every rehearsal.

This is not to say that I don't have a plan. I have a plan- it's just quite open-ended.

The design of the set suggests some of the movements: This area will be where the gods appear to Wang; this area will be Shen Te's shop.

Then the movements grow out of the relationships that develop between the characters and the actors. Moments are discovered that must be private; moments are discovered that are overt conflict. These will mean turns or crosses away, or crosses toward, movements to pursue or escape.

While this form of blocking takes a bit longer, I believe it is easier for actors to remember. More than that, this form of blocking belongs to the actor- and the character- and is rooted in the internal as well as external action of each scene.

The journey begins

Tomorrow is the day for the auditions/orientation for Bertolt Brecht's The Good Person of Szechuan presented by Full Impact Theater. I have "come out of retirement" to direct this show, long one of my favorites.

Tomorrow is the "beginning" although as the director, I've already been doing a lot of work. I've been researching the play, the era and place, and my particular tweaks on them. I have met with my production assistants. I've visited the two different stages on which this production will be performing.

So, maybe I began when I agreed to direct this play, some months ago.

Or maybe I began back in the 1990s, when I mused aloud how much I'd like to direct this play. Unbeknownst to me at the time, my troupe plotted behind my back to see if they could get together a group of alumni from my youth troupe to surprise me with a production-- but alas, too many had graduated and moved to diverse and distant destinations.

Or maybe I began in 1976, when I attended a summer intensive program at American University in D.C. In  one of our classes, we workshopped this play and I fell in love with its possibilities.

Bringing this play to life, beginning this particular production, who knows when it started?

Tomorrow, though, is a new step.

I'm back!

I'm back! In more ways than one.

I'm back to this blog. I have quite a list of topics for this year. My friend LB is interested in doing Shakespeare in the park. I've done several different summers in different parks producing Shakespeare, so I told my friend I'd address this topic. I like talking Shakespeare. I do. I really do.

I'm back directing. I just directed a wonderful staged reading of Beth Kander's award winning play Scrambled in Flint. I am lined up to direct another of Beth's plays, Unshelved, in another state with my son's theater company (more details and links once this is official). So I am back to working theater with my kids!

AND I'm about to start directing The Good Person of Szechuan for Full Impact Theater, the teen theater company formerly known as Michigan Youth Theater-

in other words, I'm back with the company I founded more than a dozen years ago.

Stay tuned!

favorite theater memories

Theater is an art that transforms. It transforms those who participate as artists, and it transforms those who participate as audience.

I'm going to capture some of my favorite theater memories. Here is one.

It was 1999. With my troupe of young actors, I'd been seeking a performance space for our production of As You Like It. Our troupe was made up of young people from many different school districts- some from public schools, some from private schools, some homeschooled- we didn't have a home base.

We finally reached an agreement with an urban school. An inner city school. Not a school any of our troupe members attended. We could use their theater for free in exchange for performances during the day for their high school students.

Fair enough.

Our As You Like It was set in the swing era. We had taken Shakespeare's words and set them to the music of the era, to tunes like "Jeepers Creepers" and "Minnie the Moocher" and a number of Gershwin tunes. We'd set all of the songs in the text, and several other sections, to these tunes. We ended with a big swing dance.

Our troupe had actors of all ages- the oldest actor was 18 and the youngest actors were 3 or 4 years old. Using my customary creativity, I had given the youngest, cutest actors the roles of sheep. Each time the shepherd Corin would enter, first you would hear the strains of Rossini's William Tell's Overture Call to the Cows and then in would trip (sometimes, literally, trip) three or four (sometimes one of the sheep was too afraid to come out) little kids in sheep costume, followed by the actors of the scene. The sheep would bounce about and then exit.

Okay, now it's show time.

As director/stage manager, I am out in the audience as the high school students file in. Dripping chains and leather and torn denim. Pierced. Tatooed. Shaved heads and wildly styled and dyed heads.

Oh dear.

How is a swing-era Shakespearean pastoral comedy going to work with this group???

The opening scenes of the gentle comedy face a stony silence from the tough- or posing as tough, which could be worse- teens of the audience.

The first songs are tolerated. We think. The vast tough audience has us worried.

Then, at last, in come the sheep.

And almost as one, this tough group of a couple thousand inner city teens, coo "Awwwwww....." at the sight of the unbelievably cute sheep.

And the audience starts to laugh at the jokes.

And applaud the songs.

In fact, when the rendition of "In the springtime, the only pretty ring time" is performed to the tune of "Minnie the Moocher" a la Cab Calloway, it brings the house down. The audience demands an encore.

And the two thousand some students who were grudgingly willing to endure Shakespeare to get out of math class roar and stomp their approval of the ending swing dance and curtain call.

Hey, and a  ho, and a nonny nonny no!

Ask and Answer

Wouldn’t you like to know?

What would you like to know about theater or directing? I’m renewing my commitment to my blog and to my theater writing. I’d love to have your help.

What topics are the highest priority to you? What questions do you have? What answers do you have? What dilemmas? Discussions? Insights? Inspirations?

Either email me or post on my professional page. I look forward to your rants, raves, trials, triumphs, greatest moments, worst moments, your fears, your jeers, your cheers.

Some topics I’ve tackled and/or I’ve been thinking about:

Art vs. Commerce

Audience: check here or here

Auditions

Awards

Casting: check here

Choosing Scripts: check here

Comedy

Community building

Competition vs. Collaboration

Criticism

Directing

Director’s concept

Ensemble

Feedback

Funding: check here

Giving Notes: check here

Hell week

Playwriting: check here

Scheduling: check here

Set building

Shakespeare

Stanislavski

Teaching and directing: check here

Theater magic: check this, or this one, or this by Beth, or Beth again

Youth artists: check here

... what else should we be thinking about?

Unemployed

The unemployed actor is so common that it is almost a cliche. But other theater artists have times between gigs, too.

Having recently turned down my directing gig for this summer, I find myself unemployed.

While actors have a number of ways to keep their skills sharp between jobs, what can a director do? Actors take classes in voice, movement, acting, improvisation. Actors work on their audition pieces.

What can a director do? The medium in which we work is the energy exchange between human beings. It's hard to exercise that skill set without human beings!

We directors can read plays, read theory, go to plays, talk into the night with theater buddies.

But as far as practicing the real gifts of communication, connection, synergy? Not so much.

stay tuned for more news

I will be returning here- I hope later today- because I am mulling a lot in my mind.

I have taken a job directing a musical! Which is definitely branching out of my comfort zone!

However, some of my old discomforts from the world of youth theater remain.

What I want to discuss/ put out there is:

How can youth artists and those who work with them find respect and come to be valued as youth artists?

And: thinking over the requests to "adapt," "water-down," "make more comfortable" a script to "suit" the youth performers- or, more properly, their parents.

I think the two are linked. I either will be leaving youth theater, or breaking out of the mold.

Teaching and directing

When I was in graduate school, I was teaching and directing as part of my fellowship. In fact, most of the instructors in the department were called upon to direct on one stage or another in addition to their teaching responsibilities.

A group of undergrads, for reasons that I no longer recall, presented a survey to the many director-instructors of our department asking: Which do you prefer: Teaching or directing? Why? Which do you identify as, a teacher or a director? Why?

After some thought, I answered that I feel that a director- a good one- should be a teacher, and that in theater, at least, a teacher - a good one- should be a sort of director.

The word "educate" comes from Latin sources that mean "to bring out, to lead forth". At its best, directing guides the actor in bringing out the actor's own creativity. Good directing leads forth the artistic team of actors, designers and technicians to finding their own unique, organic whole that is realized in the production.

When I am teaching, I am also working to guide the students to their own discoveries. I prepare and present and propose- and the real learning happens as the students make their own connections and draw their own conclusions. When I am successful in leading forth the students into the new ideas and connections, I will bring out the students' interests and innate abilities and engage their intellects.

Whether directing or teaching, I feel that I can only lead and guide. I create an environment where discoveries can be made and shared.

Ultimately I think it is impossible to "do" directing to someone, or to "do" teaching to someone. The director guides the actor and other theater artists; the teacher guides the students. Director or teacher may offer information or insight, may pose questions or suggest possibilities. In either case, the actor or student, must make the connection within themselves to bring the character to life- or make the learning their own.

“Good teaching is one-fourth preparation and three-fourths pure theatre.” - Gail Godwin

beginnings: a class act

My friend Lisa B- and there are a lot of Lisas in my story- asked how I got started with my youth theater troupes. How did I fund them?

So, it's as a good a place as any to begin to answer Lisa's questions, and start to outline the journey I have had with youth theater.

I had joined a 4-H club for home educators. This was a general 4-H club. Each of the project leaders- and I was now one- was to lead a project during the year. I created and directed a skit, based on my skill set.

It was fun, low key, well received.

Another 4-H club was doing an adaptation of Midsummer Night's Dream- could I come and give some advice? So I did.

And I thought: I love Shakespeare! Why haven't I done Shakespeare with my kids?

So I founded a 4-H club, Class Act Drama, to introduce kids ages 5-19 to theater arts. I founded this club in 1992.

The advantages to starting this troupe as a 4-H club were several. Because 4-H is an established youth organization, we started out with some name recognition, and connections to a larger organization and its resources. As a 4-H club, we had access to group insurance for $1 / member, for liability purposes.

Also, the structures and forms of the organization gave us a place to start for internal structures. Later, when I founded the independent group Michigan Youth Theater, I borrowed heavily from the 4-H forms for media release, for medical/insurance info and release, for set up for database info.

For this organization, we charged minimal dues- $5/child*- which covered the insurance costs, and paper, copying and so on. We were able to get free rehearsal spaces, in part thanks to the 4-H label.

When it came to our first production, Taming of the Shrew in spring of 1993, each of the families chipped in for each of their kids' costumes. We found a theater that would let us use their stage- on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday- for $100.

I put up the $100, figuring I might never see it again.

However, I was paid back. This, and every production that has been seen through to performance, ended in the black.

Our funding came from: volunteering and donations from participant families; "well-wisher ads" in the program; admission donations for the performance; donations for the refreshments.

Well-wisher ads are greetings from parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, or friends- one-liners in the program such as "Gloria, you will always be our star!- love, Gramma and Gramps"- for $5. These ads- and later, actual ads from businesses- have always covered the cost of the program, and then some.

Refreshments were donated by the participant families, so any money collected for them was profit for the troupe.

Class Act Drama went on to produce several plays, present workshops, visit television studios and more.

As Class Act grew, I learned more and more about how to run a successful theater troupe. We also developed a core group of young theater artists and their families who were ready to try for the next level of theater excellence.

So we decided to found a new troupe, independent of 4-H, for older youth who wanted a more intense, professional level experience. We created Michigan Youth Theater.

*For Class Act, and for Michigan Youth Theater, I established from the outset that an inability to pay would never be an impediment for participation. Family discounts and scholarships were set up for each organization.

paper trails, to you...

My last show with my youth theater troupe closed this weekend. Our Comedy of Errors was set in the Wild West, with cowboy-themed sound track. Roy Rogers was singing "Happy Trails, to you..." at every performance.

Hence the title.

I am retiring from this phase of my life- over 20 years of leading youth in exploring theater. I am going through the files, some to save as a part of my life history, and some to give back to the organization for their archives, and some paper goes to the recycling bin.

There is a lot of paper involved in over 20 years of volunteering with youth. In 1990, I became a trained 4-H leader. In 1992, I founded a 4-H club to explore drama. In 2000, I founded a teen theater troupe.

Back in the day, digital archives were not a possibility. So there are multiple, multiple copies of many, many workshop outlines, promo pieces, schedules, programs...

A lot of paper.

It is an opportunity to reflect and recognize the amazing journey.

If you were there in the early years, you may be receiving some snail mail.

I'll share the hard copies of our shared memories with you.

Paper trails, to you...

giving notes; or, how I exercise my drive to be a standup comedian

I actually enjoy giving director's notes to the cast.

During much of the rehearsal period, as a director, you are breaking the play down into scenes, into moments. I am very vocal during this period, jumping to my feet YES! or ACK! Stop! Do it again- think about where you just were! What do you want?

Later on, however, we have to put it all back together, establish continuity, rhythm, pace, the long arcs of the characters and of the play itself. We can't stop. We run through, all the way through the scene, the act, finally the entire play.

While I, like most directors, take notes.

Sometimes, because the hour is late and actors (and I) have to go home, I type up the notes and email them to the actors after I've returned home. I don't like to do this because A) actors may not understand a specific note, B) actors may not read the notes and C) I like to give notes.

I like to give notes. I do. I make eye contact. I make jokes. I exaggerate, exhort, and expound. I prance and I posture, I prod and I praise.*

From time to time, I may have to shush the actors who are starting side conversations. After all, for many years, the actors with whom I have worked have been teens.

Still, all in all, I have fun giving notes, and the actors have fun receiving the notes.

Here are some of the key ingredients for good note-giving:

• Make eye contact. Make sure the actors are listening.
• EVERY actor should receive a comment. Each actor should know that they are important, and that their work is (literally) noted.
• Use humor. I use a lot of humor at my own expense... I tease and challenge them to be bigger, bolder, more energized than this "old lady"
• Catch them doing something right; be specific about when it happened, and what it was. Comments like "you're great" or "good job" might feel good for a moment, but they don't tell the actor where they are succeeding or how to build on that success. A comment like: "I could really see you focus on the other character on your line 'Not now, darling''" tells the actor what is working and when.
• Be specific about what you want the actor to change. Comments such as "That's no good" or "I didn't like that" again do not give the actor any useful information. A comment like "When you enter in scene two, try rushing straight to the couch- remember what just happened to the character before you entered" gives the actor useful information about what needs work in the scene, and a suggestion for a new approach.
• I try to give both the "director's reason" and the "actor's reason" for a direction. For instance, in the above example, I might remind the actor that the actor's reason- the character's reason- for rushing in is that the character is escaping from an uncomfortable encounter in the other room; while I will admit that my "director's reason" for asking you to rush in and cross to the couch is that the scene needs more energy, and I need you out of the doorway!
• Be a believer. Believe in the play, believe in your actors, believe in theater magic. Keep cheering, keep watching, noting, and sharing what you see. Eventually, it all comes together- how? It's a mystery!

*In fact, over the years many parents have confessed they stayed at rehearsals for the entertainment value of watching me give notes!

Rain or shine!

When working in the theater in the great outdoors, one needs a plan B. Actually, when working in the theater, one needs a plan B.

Sometimes, in fact, one needs a plan B, C, D...

But when working - all summer long- on a production that only has 4 performances on one weekend, one MUST have a plan in case of rain.

Usually, having a plan in case of rain is enough to keep the rain away.

This year, with a new venue, we had lots of rain through the rehearsal period. And discovered that much of the venue had a tendency to flood.

Not good, especially since we need to string lots of extension cords to power our rented lights and sound equipment.

AND this time, it actually rained. On our last performance day, which included a matinee and an evening performance.

And we used plan D.

Plan B was to move the audience on to the (covered) band shell and reverse the set. Looking at the set, we decided, unless it was Noah's downpour, the work of reversing the set really wasn't worth the time it took.

Plan C was to move the portable awning/gazebo tent that we had erected (to protect the sound equipment from the hot, hot sun) to the center seating area, seat audience there with a few umbrellas to the side. We would move the vulnerable sound equipment on to the stage and trust the audience to ignore the sound crew (a la the Wizard of Oz "pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!")

Well, that didn't work because the awning, when center, blocked virtually all sight lines.

So we used plan D: put sound crew on stage, left the awning/gazebo on the side and allowed audience to sit under it, and issued umbrellas to those few audience members without them.

And it worked.

Ensemble

My job is essentially over. For the director, opening night is the closing of the work.

I still have a few things to do- in this particular production, I am giving a curtain speech to set up the audience- but in the main, what I can do, I have done.

And there is still so much more being done.

I am reminded, as I watch the emails fly back and forth among the cast and crew, of what a truly collaborative art theater is.

There are those coming early to set up tech, coming a bit later to set up concessions, others are bringing long staplers to put the programs together.

Some are bringing signs; some are bringing repaired props or costumes.

We are just a few hours from opening.

From theater magic!