On knowing

I know a lot about my field. I'll be the first to tell you that I have a lot more to learn, but I have a wide knowledge base, and I'm proud of that.

I think I've briefly mentioned the feeling that I get sometimes, in which I think to myself, "My area of expertise seems somewhat simplistic." I think that because I look back on my engineering classes, and all the things I didn't know then, and I feel convinced that I could teach anyone what I know in short order. But if I really sit down and ponder it, I know that's not true. I know that while perhaps a majority of the concepts related to the nitty-gritty of my job aren't extremely difficult (for example, it's not hard to understand the purpose of most of the hardware involved with stage lighting. There is a lot of it though) and most of the skills are not beyond a precocious high schooler. That being the case, it is a very wide skill set that takes years to accumulate.

I sometimes struggle with the idea that perhaps my profession is below my potential, just because so many of the skills seem so basic. If it wasn't for constant reminders in the form of inexperienced crewmembers, I might forget that it's not inherently obvious what to do with DMX or how it is a gobo functions. I might forget that people won't immediately understand what rotating the lamp/lens of a PAR would do to the light, or why you shouldn't touch high output halogen lamps.

I once tried to teach, in brief, a group of people about the very basics of operating the sound equipment at my college. Twelve seconds into my planned lecture, I realized that I hadn't communicated basic ideas about gain structures and the layout of a sound board that were, in my opinion, vital to any real understanding of the subject. I stumbled through, but it really opened my eyes to the concept of intrinsic knowledge.

I do wonder, though, if an electrical engineer ever feels that he's not living up to his potential? I could convey a lot more about being a master electrician in an afternoon than he could about being an engineer, I think. At least as far as useful fundamental skills go.

What kind of day is it?

I don't think I'll ever be able to walk into a space in the morning and tell you what the day's going to be like. I mean that in the most basic sense, that I just can't tell, at 8am, whether at lunchtime I'll be where I want to be. There are too many factors involved that are beyond my control.

Once, I discovered that the local crew had, instead of using the paperwork provided as part of the advance, created their own instrument schedule for the purpose of documenting circuits. Needless to say, I was, and still am, confused by that. They had gone so far as to rename positions (which is especially baffling, to me) pretty extensively.

My immediate course of action was to ask them to print out a copy of my instrument schedule and transfer circuit information. Well, they printed out the channel hookup, which didn't make the job easier for the girl they had doing the copying. It was then we discovered that the house-created paperwork had at least a few errors in it, such as specials being listed in two positions. When they handed me my channel hookup and I started my patch. Once I started checking channels, stuff just wasn't right, it didn't make the transition from paper to paper well.

The point of this is that here was a day that was going pretty well, my mover hang was fast and relatively uncomplicated, cabling wasn't a huge headache to deal with, my sound towers got hung pretty quickly and I even had my full balcony rail position, but now I had to have the electrician do a dimmer check. Once we got the circuits sorted out, they powered through what was probably the fastest focus I've ever had, and I knocked out my mover focus and we were more or less ready to go with plenty of time, in spite of a 7pm curtain.

Up until the trouble reared its head, I had no reason to believe this wouldn't be my best day yet, and it almost could have been, even in a challenging space. At the end of the night the crew set a record for load-out, the TD nailed a great pack on the truck and we were out of there. There was just that one little difficulty that no one could have expected that was the wrench in the works.

Admittedly, the fluid and unpredictable nature of the business is part of its allure for me, but sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get to a point where this kind of completely unexpected speed bump won't phase me too much.

Tomorrow, I hear, our space is going to be challenging. We'll see how it goes. Until next time.

Changing Roles

So, as I've mentioned, I am on the road as ME for The 39 Steps.

In my last post I touched briefly on what I believe to be my greatest stumbling block: acting in a supervisory role. In my previous work, it's mostly fallen to me to do the vast majority of the work, from physical to mental. Every time I've been an ME I've participated in a large portion of the hang and focus myself. Don't get me wrong, I've led crews before. I've taught, directed and scolded. But I've never been in quite the position I am now. I hold sole responsibility for the implementation of my show the way it was designed, and to that end I have a number of crew members that require specific direction to accomplish tasks. In order to finish my load in, I simply can not be 'hands on' and do most of the physical work myself. I have time to hang one of my movers, just to make sure the crew knows how. I've got time to demonstrate what I mean by, 'Run the data to that end,' and have to trust that it gets done. I'm learning to be completely explicit about what I need (one day the strobes missed the DMX train, for example, costing me a good ten minutes while I fixed it) and that I can't sugar coat my requests. There simply isn't time.

I have trouble with that. I find it difficult to be stern. It's hard for me to say "This is what I need and I would like it done five minutes ago." Even though I usually actually want it done ten minutes ago, I just feel like such a tool being any sort of 'boss.'

The worst, though, is when I send a couple folks to retrieve circuiting information or to hang a position, only to discover at my next check-in with that crew that what they've done is just wrong. Now I have to be even more stern, and I just hate that. I don't want to be perceived as 'that dick roadie,' because I really don't think I am. It does seem, though, that local crews don't feel the time crunch the same way, and that's a problem. Why should they rush around if they don't know how desperately behind I feel?

Right now my schedule is something like this:

8am - Truck opens and boxes start coming. I know now how I would approach labeling cases, the next time I'm gearing up for a tour. It's not how I did it this time. Hopefully by now I've taped my electrics so the crew can just start hanging once I get the pipe.

10:30 - First break. My goal at this point is to have my fixtures hung and cabled, and the cables run to the distro. At this point I'll set people on getting my atmospherics set up and cabled, and set up my board. This leads into:

12:00 - Lunch. Right now I would be in a great place if I was ready to start focus right after lunch, though so far there have inevitably been problems preventing that. Conventional focus can be time consuming for any variety of reasons, but it's getting better. The majority of my instrumentation is dedicated to six washes, so with a competent crew I can describe the first area in detail and then just focus the hotspot and they'll get the cuts while I get the next light up. Usually the spikes are going down while I start my focus, so when I've finished the FOH washes I can hit the specials on that pipe.

After I finish conventional focus, I have to hit mover focus. I'm getting more confident in this, but a lot of it still comes down to my SM/ASM to tell me where stuff is. I've only seen this show from the front once, during an understudy rehearsal, which is a big hindrance for me. I just don't know what these things are supposed to look like, so I'm doing what I can.

~6:00 - Dinner. I'm getting to the point where my focus is completely done at this point, and now I can check my practicals and presets, and do whatever other pre-show stuff I have.

--

It's a lot of stuff, and definitely the most responsibility I've ever been saddled with. I wouldn't trade it for anything, and I know I've gained a boatload of new skills that will help carry me forward in my career.

I am definitely looking forward to a summer rep season, though.

The now.

I haven't written anything in particular for a while. It's tough to find the inspiration, motivation, and time for writing. I need to have all three at once, and they just don't coincide often. Now, in the steady grasp of sleeplessness, might as well be as good a time as any.

Tonight we're in Brooklyn, with a show at Brooklyn College tomorrow. Our sound tech (who toured with this company last fall) insists that tomorrow will be an excellent crew, and numerous. That's always nice. Today's (Monday?) crew was pretty exceptional. We had already played the space (Strand Theatre, Lakewood) once on this tour, and just last week Encore went through. They're well practiced this year. I think it was the fastest in we've had. The out was up there, too, but I think it was a few minutes shy of the record. I didn't write the record down so it's hard to be sure.

We've only got two more shows this week, and then we're off for thanksgiving until Monday. We'll be spending the break on Long Island, so I might spend some time exploring the city in somewhat greater detail than I have had the opportunity to, so far. So far, in my somewhat limited experience, I do like New York. It's a whole other sort of thing from any of the cities I've spent time in previously. Granted that's not much of a surprise to anyone, whether they've been here or not, but it is significant enough, I think, to be mentioned; even though we all know it already.

The tour is coming, rapidly, to a close. I can't say I find myself disappointed, and if you've read any of my recent writings I think you'd guess that without any mention. I like the idea of being on the road, but I want to be on the road with a show that challenges me, that gives me more than 15 minutes or so a day of troubleshooting, even perhaps a show into which I had some level of input. I know that I couldn't stomach touring forever. It's not the environment I need, but I do like the travel, the seeing of new places.

So where do I want to be? Really with any company that's regularly producing work (New, old, original, rehashed) with a proper creative team (so community theatre is not a great option, in most cases) who is actually interested in expressing something beyond the text. What role do I envision myself filling there? To be honest I think I could be happy in my electrician/carpenter/welder/audio engineer/wizard role from college, or in a more standard ME position, or as an LD, or some blend of all of those. Give me the chance to express myself and to create again. That's all I really want. And probably all I really need.

ennui

I'm not being challenged.

Maybe this is true of any tour, perhaps the thing to embrace about driving around in a truck and doing theatre in a new location every day (or every week, or every month?) is the part where you're in a place you've never been before. Perhaps you have to accept monotony when you're doing the same show over and over again.

Or perhaps, when saddled with responsibility for 'legitimate' theatre, as opposed to being handed the keys to a 30 year old rig (I have two instruments which are younger than me, the job begins to gain a sort of luster. Okay, maybe the rest aren't ACTUALLY 30 years old, but i have no reason to believe they aren't), given some focus charts and set out on the road. The most interesting part of my job is communicating with the house electrician and patching his front of house instruments and the house lights. Everything else is the same, every day. Here, I'll describe it to you.

1. Wake up. Eat some breakfast (does this hotel have meat/hot eggs? hopefully...).
2. Pack whatever shit isn't already in my bag.
3. Play the ever-changing game of tetris to get my bag into the van.
4. Drive truck to venue.
5. Try to find and talk to electrician very quickly about my power/DMX needs, then get back to the truck.
6. Unload truck.
7. Get back into the venue, see how my tie-in is going. Or, if there's no company switch, start wondering where I'm going to find six or seven different household circuits.
8. Lay out power and DMX cable for each dimmer pack.
9. Set up board. If using house FOH, talk to their electrician and get some reasonable instruments patched. Patch houselights or work out plan for running unison/older control system/light switch (I played a house where ALL of the houselights [for a 700ish seat house] were on a single lightswitch backstage. Baffling). Tell my SM we're patched so she can call the FOH focus. Set up the laptop and make sure the Keystroke is working.
10. Focus my rig. I have two actors who do the hang, thankfully. I'd never be done on time otherwise.
11. I usually finish about the same time as the SM, clear the board and get into preshow. This usually happens anywhere from 10-15 before house opens to a few minutes after. Now I take a couple minutes to hang out, then get on headset so I can make calls for the actors (the SM is in the house by now)
12. Once the show starts, zone out and push go when I'm told. Autopilot here, or else I'll memorize everyone's lines.
13. Show's over? Get a house crew member or two to start coiling cable, get the power killed, pack up my control stuff. Help with cable. Pack boxes. Start pushing shit into truck.
14. Once set's done we start the pack in earnest. Get it done, get the truck closed. On to the next city.

Seems fine enough, but I'll be damned if this isn't kind of incredibly unfufilling. I'm not challenged, I'm not engaged (the whole process is autopilot, to be honest) and we don't spend enough time in most cities to even be enamored with the new locations. 

I'm suffering from terminal boredom. 

Detritus and Inertia

I'm in the middle of moving out of my apartment and back to Logan. My last hope at a job for the immediate present fell through, when Valley Fair amusement park in Shakopee, MN, hired the ME/Electrician spot op position before I received an interview, and filled the audio technician position with a local for the sake of expediency, even after taking the time to interview me.

Anyway. I'm writing about the moving process. It's raining and I'm sitting in Wendy's, hoping that perhaps it might let up (though it doesn't appear that it will) a bit before I return to my endeavors.

Over the years and moves I've accumulated a fair amount of shit. Junk. Crap. I hesitate to throw things away because of some potential future value. I hang on to every little thing, every DC adapter, every piece of electronic junk I might use some day. Tools that are obviously barely functional. Pieces of what anyone else might call garbage that I might one day use to build something.

Well no more. Most of it's in the dumpster already. I'm hoping that perhaps my enforced inertia, my seeming inability to move forward and change my state of being, is somehow connected to this debris of life. Like an emotional and mental anchor, lodging me thoroughly in place.

So by divesting myself of it, of anything not directly connected to my work or my amusements, anything that serves no purpose other than filling a closet, I hope that I cut this seemingly unbreakable tether to the status quo. That I am allowed to rise up like a balloon freed of its ballast,

Can it really make much of a difference? I don't know that I can say, but I know that it's a lot less shit to take back home and store there. I'll be glad to be rid of it. I'll return to logan a few hundred pounds lighter for it, and certainly with less shit to worry about.

I'll keep you posted on whether it affects my inertia.

jobs

Right now I'm in the thick of job searching. I've sent resumes to both coasts and to more than a few places in between. Until last week the response has been minimal. That is to say, I've received a single email informing me that while the position I had applied for was filled, they would certainly keep my resume on file and contact me if a position opened up in the future.

In the past few days a couple things have happened. First and foremost, I received an email from Shakespeare and Company, in Massachusetts. The email was short, merely stating they had read my resume (which I believe reads quite well) asking if I was still available and interested in working for the company. I sent a resume out in January, applying for a position as ME. Looking back at the job listing, I discovered something that sounded genuinely exciting. The company does a 13 show season across 3 different theaters. The listing states that 'some' positions are summer only. I think I've decided that if the position they've got in mind for me (apparently, that is, why else would they contact me?) goes for the whole season (until next March!) then I'm taking that job, regardless of what else might come up. Excepting something yet more awesome, but what are the chances of that?

I also discovered that First Presbyterian Theater will be creating a position for someone with a technical background. Presumably to handle designs, set building and light hang/focus. The job would pay (not terribly well, but regularly) and offer benefits. This is, I think, a fairly attractive prospect. It doesn't offer the fast-paced, intense theatre environment I really crave. But it would offer a regular paycheck for a few years while I built up a design portfolio. Wouldn't a position of responsibility look decent on a resume, even in a community theater? I don't know.

Now, neither of these opportunities, obviously, mean much until I can learn more about them.

That said, it is a gluttony of choice, which is not something I've had to date.

I feel like I'll end up taking the job in MA no matter what, if it's available. The trouble with the local job is that it's just not theatre up to a level that I can really enjoy. If no one's invested in the show, what's the point?

Harvey

Currently my only theatrical pursuit in this town is a lighting design at First Presbyterian Theater, for their production of Harvey.

I've got a production meeting today with the director and other designers. As yet there hasn't been a lot of progress on my end of things. I helped with the set build, but I haven't been in all week to see what's happened with the painting. So that will be a surprise I guess.

Being a straight play, it won't offer a huge amount of opportunity for creativity and mind-blowing techniques, but I think I'll be able to lend a unique hand to the space. I've previously designed two shows at Pres, The Underpants and You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown, and I think both of those definitely showed a little bit of deviation from the norm.

I'll try and find something to push for, anyway.

Introductions

My name is Derek. I'm a theatrical lighting designer, electrician, carpenter, sound engineer, welder, fixer, inventor and general jack-of-most trades. I am currently on hiatus from schooling, having not felt my previous institution was guiding me in a direction that I was most comfortable moving in.

Currently I'm embroiled in a job search. I've sent resumes to both coasts and to plenty of places in the middle. I've received one response that seems positive, and I genuinely hope it results in a job. I promise I'll disperse details to the faceless internet should that be the case.

Recently I've felt an urge to resume writing, a craft I haven't seriously pursued since English classes in high school. A few abortive attempts at short stories resulted in some generic, dystopian science fiction akin to what I generally find myself reading. This seemed like a pointless venture, so I've decided to pursue the popular and relatively harmless blog format. I'll write about my job search, and hopefully about the job I find.

In addition to theater, I also pursue photography and music as hobbies. Perhaps I'll discuss those in the future.