Technical Brinksmanship!

If you've never done theater, your idea of how it all comes together probably involves some vague sense that "somehow...at the last second, it all just magically works." Possibly, you imagine "technical men" walking about, be-flanneled and bearded, performing various jobs. However if you've done some serious theater, you are aware of just how tricky it is. The end result needs to look effortless and magical, so if we're doing our jobs well, we are erasing all traces of the careful planning and hard work it takes to get the thousand moving pieces of a production running properly.

Tonight was our first time in Venue 45, a lovely space just off the Royal Mile in the heart of the Fringe. We were there for our technical rehearsal, a 90 minute time slot to set all of the light and sound cues on unfamiliar equipment, work out transitions and determine where to store our set while other shows perform. (typical tech rehearsals can last 5 times that long.) There are also a series of jobs to delegate; from Leo and Brian who must sweep the floor in the specific pattern used by stage managers, to Lauryn collecting and re-distributing our ID wristbands, to The team of Colt, Mads and Kathleen who have to guide the chaise lounge out of storage in an area charmingly called "the dungeon."

And although tonight's tech started with Marianne, our technical manager, telling the kids that they were "a very large group that would need to respect the space," the evening ended with her praising the kids for their professionalism and ability to handle themselves in a tech. She was very impressed!

The fire marshall peered suspiciously at our 27ft long scarf, demanding that we coat it with Flame-Ex, a miserable compound that no human skin wants to be in close contact with. We had to wrap up Colt and demonstrate that it gets used in the play like a costume. He also looked inside the Grandfather clock, which anyone in the Doorknobs Universe knows is never wise. The fire codes here are beyond strict and absoluetly unyeilding, but the Fringe Festival has an unblemished safety record that justifies the paranoia. In the end, we passed.

There isn't space here to praise Tim enough. I often think that people just have no idea how talented he is. It's actually a somewhat rare combination to have an extremely skilled technician who is also a gifted artist in his own right. Adding in his ability to effectively teach and communiate with students, and it's clear that his gifts are unique and special. It was interesting to watch the professional artists who are running the technical side of the venue meet Tim, size him up, and immediately recognize and treat him as a Fellow. The one member of the team who was a little condescending to him at first (and in fairness, too many high school theater types pretend to know more than they do, so all the restistance we got initially was expected) quickly got that Tim's knowledge in lighting and sound systems far outstripped her own. She then divulged the secret that a bunch of the lights in the venue that are marked as "unable to be re-focused" actually can be used in our light plot; they just normally don't allow the American high schools to use them. But after seeing his talent and ability, they made an exception for Tim.

I'm thrilled with our venue and thought the professional techs were wonderful. They know their stuff and are worth every penny. We had a relaxed and productive tech rehearsal--not the easiest thing to do in an unfamiliar space with unfamiliar techs. Appreciation all around!

I was in full "show mode" the entire time, helping the kids and answering the Venue Manager's many questions. Fortunately, Elsabe took some pictures inside the Venue, so you can catch a glimpse of our technical rehearsal and performance space: