Well, dear readers, I am home from an evening that was both completely stressful and completely stressful. Have I mentioned that the evening was stressful? Yes, it was a NYMF nightmare special with all the trimmings for our second performance of The Brain. After spending a nice relaxing day doing both this and that and that and this, I toddled over to the Acorn at seven, where I met Mr. David Wechter and Miss Adriana Patti. When we arrived our stage manager and her assistant were prepping stuff and bringing up our set pieces and costumes. I should have known something was amiss when they didn’t say very much to me. Our musical director was there setting up the band. At seven-fifteen he came to me and told me he thought it was odd that there was no power to the amps and that the sound guy hadn’t begun miking. I, too, thought that odd, so I immediately went upstairs to the sound booth and asked what was going on. I was told there were sound issues and they were being worked on. That was as much communication as I could get, other than the sound issues had happened earlier (later revealed to be a different set of sound issues) to the show before us. When I asked what they’d done, they said that show had performed acoustically, sans mics. Obviously, that threw me into a bit of a panic. By seven-thirty the sound equipment, board and computer, wasn’t loading the disc of our show – the band still wasn’t miked, although the cast was. At a quarter-to-eight it was more than obvious that things weren’t going to get better, at least it was obvious to me. Suddenly, various NYMF people were showing up, trying to calm me, saying they were really working hard to fix the problems. It was decided to hold the show until eight-fifteen and an announcement was made to the people in the lobby and technical difficulties were mentioned. I asked the gentleman who was going to do our pre-show speech to be sure to mention to the audience that NYMF shows share the same space and sometimes technical difficulties arise because of it having nothing to do with the shows and everything to do with having to rush. He agreed to do so. I asked him to add that to his speech because there was a reviewer from the New York Times coming. No one was really communicating what the problems really were – we finally got the bottom line – our show disc with its pre-mixes and moves could not be loaded due to a glitch. The band was perfunctorily miked and the sound man was to run the show live, on the fly. By this time, it was almost eight-thirty and I was beside myself (no mean feat). The sound man asked to be left completely alone so he could concentrate on just running the live sound (as well as doing the pre-recorded sound cues). We granted his wish and at eight-thirty-five we began the show. The band sounded anemic with most of the sound live, save for the reed which was too loud. All the sound from the synth came only from the amp next to it. BJ came out and took his place and the show began. His mic was working – not ideal, but there. From the first line we knew the audience was with the show, and BJ did an ad-lib after his line, “Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to take part in a bold and startling new process. Certain members of this audience will experience what the characters onstage experience.” A line or two later, he threw in, “It’s not quite as good as having to wait outside in the lobby of the Acorn for forty-five minutes” which got a huge laugh and applause and from that point on the audience was in total support and with us all the way. All the gags at the top of the show landed beautifully, one big laugh after another. Then the song began and that went very well, although the band wasn’t present enough and it was instantly obvious that no one but BJ had sound support. After the number, the first Fred and Joyce scene began and we knew we were in for it. There was no sound reinforcement at all, just what was coming from the actors. Luckily, they adjusted and projected and even though sometimes it was a strain to hear the lyrics over the band and even the dialogue was sometimes difficult to hear, the audience laughed where we wanted them to and gave nice applause. The second number was worse-off for having no mics, but the actors (Merrill and Paul) did their best and it was okay. So, for the entire first act, Fred and Joyce’s mics worked for a total of three minutes, and a couple of ensemble mics worked for about a minute – otherwise it was The Brain – Unplugged.
But the laughs kept coming, much more so than the previous night, where I felt the audience was not that receptive and that the show was a beat or two off for its entirety. The actors really were pros and I went backstage at intermission and gave them kudos. Act two began, no mics, which meant you could literally not hear any of The Brain Tap lyrics over the sound of tapping. However, where the audience participation bit had fallen flat on opening night (thanks to Cason listening to a cast member, who insisted we bring up his friend – a disaster, because his friend is an actor and the bit only works with real people who are embarrassed to be up on stage), tonight it worked like gangbusters, despite the lack of mics. I gave Cason an ad-lib to say about the wireless mic we use to hear the audience member (we call it a “voice stick” in the show) – Cason said, “Just speak into this voice stick, and hopefully it will work better than all the other voice sticks in the show” and that got a big laugh and applause. The audience member was hilarious and Cason and Alet were brilliant with him. After that came Alet’s big number, which she hit out of the park, although for some reason Rob got the giggles and she had to work really hard to keep the number on track. She got a really nice applause (very vocal), and the show proceeded, pretty much sans mics. The only downside was when one of the actors went up on his lyrics, and then came in at the wrong place and completely botched the ending of the song. The show finished, and the word from folks leaving was that they had a really good time. I met Brad Oscar (delightful) and said hey to the few people I knew. After the show, I had to get a bite to eat, and it was good to sit and relax after all that stress. Had everything been working correctly, I really believe it would have been the best performance of the show we’d ever had. I have no idea how the New York Times review will go, but I’m at least hoping they’ll be understanding of what we were put through. And guess what – that NYMF guy doing our opening announcement? Never mentioned the technical problems at all. Gee thanks a lot.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because it’s very late and I need to unwind and get some beauty sleep.
I just posted the notes with yesterday’s second half. Now I must hurry and write today’s second half or people will be hopelessly confused.
Today, I shall sleep late (if I can), and just spend a relaxing day. I’ll be supping with Mr. David Wechter at some point, but I really just want to not do much of anything and I want to wash away all the stress of last night.
Tomorrow I will do more of the same, as well as some work on the fundraiser. I may even buy a DVD to watch, although I haven’t really seen any that interest me.
These are very short paragraphs, aren’t they? They’re nice, though, after those endless paragraphs of part one. Those Endless Paragraphs Of Part One – that’s the title of my next novel.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, relax and smell the coffee or the roses or the oyster loaf. Today’s topic of discussion: What is the single worst stage mishap you’ve ever witnessed? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I go lay my head on Ye Olde Pillow.