Things I've Learnt From Theatre, Part 1

The Stage Manager Walk: Generally, running does not look very dignified. Speed-walking is just as undignified, with the added fact that you are clearly aware of, and trying to hide, the indignity inherent in the speed at which you are moving.

This venerated technique, however, allows you to move at great speed while still maintaining your dignity. The secret lies in having a purpose. Your walk - and your face, the importance of which should never be underestimated - should say "I have something of vital importance to do, and I know why, where and how to do it. I am not running out of panic - I am merely moving at sufficient speed to accomplish this goal."

This has another advantage: Once you have perfected the Walk, people will naturally move out of your way. Nobody wants to stop a man on a mission.

The Clipboard Of Authority: A surprisingly simple fact which is well-known even outside theatre is that, simply put, no-one will stop or challenge a man holding a clipboard.

Of course, the simple presence of the accessory is not enough. It must also be used in the right way. Carried in one arm, tilted low enough to be comfortable but high enough for its contents to be hidden from non-clipboard carriers, it should be glanced at regularly as if to verify the statements of anybody talking to you - or, indeed, to simply check that the universe as a whole has not deviated from the way the clipboard-bearer has planned.

The Voice of Command: Of course, sometimes the ability to move quickly and unchallenged is not sufficient. It is at times like these that the ability to issue orders is of great help.

Many people try to adapt an "I'm in charge" attitude when delivering orders. Now, this often works - after all, confidence is key. But there are many problems with this. Firstly, if you aren't actually in charge, whoever outranks you will probably react poorly, as will your equals and any underlings who prefer the current leader to you.

Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, in every group of people there are rebels (Particulary if you are a crew member dealing with cast, who often like to think they are the lords and ladies of creation). These people won't just fail to register a positive response to your attitude; they will respond negatively, actively fighting your attempts at control.

The secret, therefore, is to cultivate an attitude of "I know what I'm doing." If you can project an image of confidence in both the necessity and veracity of your knowledge and expertise, you will have an instant and attentive audience. Your superiors will think "This guy knows what he's doing, I'd better listen to him"; your equals will pay appropriate respect to your knowledge; your subordinates will readily lap up your wisdom and teaching; and rebels will have no authority to rebel against. Even cast - or the resident primadonnas in your particular field - will not risk looking bad on stage because they failed to listen to you.

Of course, it goes without saying that unless you are a particularly good actor, you had better actually know what you're doing. Feigned competence might get you an audience once, but should you be found out, good luck convincing anybody to listen to you again, even in areas where you are genuinely competent.

That's it for now, but I have many, many more of these, so more posts of this sort shall follow.

Invisible Doors

Theatre has done a lot to introduce me to the wonderful world of human psychology. Obviously, characterisation techniques and the like can get pretty psychological, but there's almost as much to be learned about the human mind from members of the audience as from the cast.

In the theatre where I've done most of my work, the entrance to what was once a projection booth - we now call it the "sound booth", although it holds tech stuff and techies of all disciplines - is a door from the foyer of the theatre, very close to the large double doors which allow the audience into the auditorium.

During one show, I was running around frantically (as usual) and needed to get into the sound booth in a hurry. The catch, however, was that a woman was standing in front of it. Being a polite young gentleman, I asked her if I could please get to the door. She looked at me oddly for a moment, and then said "Yes, of course you can," without moving an inch.

It took me almost a minute of stilted conversation to realise that she thought I was talking about the main doors, which she was in no way blocking. She did not realise she was standing in front of a door. Of course, if you were to point it out to her - which I eventually did - she would recognise it immediately, and identify it as a door. It wasn't particularly small, or poorly lit, or disguised as a wall. It was a door, no doubt about it.

But this door was one of those doors that people just don't see. I suppose you could call them "utility doors", the doors that are used by workers and staff, never by "outsiders". Because of this, these "outsiders" just write the doors out of reality. It's like the internal censor that keeps Terry Pratchett's Death "invisible", or Douglas Adams' Not My Problem Field. Because they don't use the doors, their internal cartographer just overwrites the door as a wall - they never go through it, and therefore it may as well be one.

As crew - one of the background people that do use these invisible doors, my own mapping algorithm doesn't skip them out. In fact, I pay particular attention to these doors, purely because other people don't. It's like one big secret shared by crew-like people everywhere, just as effective and just as invisible as Inquisition-era secret passages. And these doors are everywhere, too - supermarkets, movie theatres, actual theatres, office buildings, everywhere. Now that you've read this, there's a decent chance you'll start seeing them as well. Another one of the wonders of the human brain.

Sci-Fi Prologue Thingy

Here's the first piece of writing I'll post. My natural instinct towards procrastination means that I become a prolific writer whenever I should really be doing something else, like studying for Finals. Therefore, expect more writing, particularly when I have something important to do...

This is a melodramatic sci-fi thingy, sort of like the prologue to a story, but minus the story itself. Very, very corny, but it was fun to write.

Link:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/ts01d7bczyjxhnu/History.docx

Enjoy.

Rules for Crew

Introduction

Crew have a hard time in theatre. They're the ones who run around backstage and never show their faces, but without whom most shows would collapse into a flaming pile of chaos, echoing with the cries of divas and drama queens who cannot remember which costumes to wear, where they left their props, how to turn on their microphones, or, occasionally, where the stage is. Nonetheless, it is a sad truth that if an audience member notices a crew member doing his or her job, they aren't doing the job properly.

Bad crew - sadly common - take this implicit invisibility as an excuse not to work, saying "They don't care about our jobs, so why should we put effort in?" Good crew are the ones who realise that their jobs are important, suppress the need for fame and glory, suck up their issues, and do the job.

In the last three years of theatre, over the course of nine major shows and countless minor ones, I've learnt a few vital rules, which I share with you today. I came up with them all and wrote them down - with the exception of rule 1, which is a Hunger Games quote courtesy of my drama teacher, Luke Holder - but they're not my rules, any more than gravity belongs to Newton, or radiation to Marie Curie. Think of them as the corporealised form of a set of rules implicitly known and followed by crews throughout the performing arts, all across the world. Enjoy.

The Rules

1. Stupid people are dangerous.
1. Stupidity is always a valid assumption. No exceptions.
2. Sanity is never a valid assumption. No exceptions.
2. If it needs to be done, it is your job.
3. There is no such thing as “just a school show”.
4. The Stage Manager is second in charge to God. Do what they say.
1. If you think you have a better idea, explain it, calmly and politely.
2. If they ignore your “better idea”, do what they say.
5. You are doing a vital job, without which no show would ever happen.
1. The cast will not see this.
2. The director will not see this.
3. The audience certainly will not see this.
4. As crew, if someone notices you doing your job, either you’re doing it wrong, or you’re not doing it stealthily enough.
5. Because we are crew, we do the job anyway.
6. You will screw up.
1. Every second you spend denying your screw-ups, the problem you caused gets worse. Shut up, say “I was wrong”, and fix it.
7. Other people will screw up.
1. When they screw up, they will screw up your work. It happens. Stop complaining and start fixing.
2. Cast will screw up. They will not admit that they are wrong. Deal with it, and start fixing.
3. Crew will screw up. Blaming them is a waste of time. Reminding them of Rule 6.1) is a waste of time. Spend that time fixing it.
8. You don’t know everything.
1. Admitting that you don’t know what you’re doing sucks.
2. Screwing up a show for the cast, the crew, and the (paying) audience because you pretended to know what you were doing really sucks.
9. The phrase “I had no choice” is both simpering and completely untrue. At least do us the dignity of coming up with a better excuse than that.
1. You always have a choice. What you want is better options.
10. Cast are bastards. Sorry.
1. Sometimes they aren’t.
2. Even when they are, there is no excuse to “get them back”. We’re crew. We don’t do petty feuds. We do our jobs.
11. Privacy is an illusion.
1. You will be shoved, squashed, prodded and pulled. Girls – and guys – will change in front of you. It happens.
2. If you are too shy to handle this, this isn’t the job for you.
3. The privacy, dignity and trust of every cast member is sacred. Do not abuse your position to take advantage of the cast.
4. If you read this and think, “I’m a guy, I can’t help it”, develop self-control or find a new job.
12. The show comes first
1. If you think something – sport, family, transport problems, anything – might stop you from being wherever you are needed, whenever you are needed, think very carefully before signing up as crew.
2. Once you are crew, you will be there. Cast can miss rehearsals because they stubbed their toe. Crew are there to do their job, always.
13. The dual mantras:
1. If anybody notices that, there’s something wrong with the rest of the show.
2. I’m not doing all this work for the idiots who won’t notice. I’m doing it for the people who will.
14. Regarding the use of theatrical essentials:
1. All cables are to be coiled, taped and stored correctly when not in use.
2. If it moves and it shouldn’t: Duct tape
3. If it should, and it doesn’t: WD-40
4. If all else fails: Gebruik dan cable-ties
15. Before you do anything:
1. Do you know what you are doing? If not, don’t do it.
2. Do you know why you are doing it? If not, don’t do it.
3. Do you know how to do it? If not, don’t do it.
16. Trial and error is only a valid method when you are working with equipment which costs less than your monthly income.
17. When moving any setpiece in the vicinity of cast, remember Rule 1.
18. If any given setpiece: a) Has wheels, and b) Weighs more than the average second-former, mark your safety zones. It’s embarrassing to have to explain to the first-aiders that someone was run over by a restaurant.
19. Regarding the sound booth:
1. No idiots in the sound booth.
1. Assume all non-crew to be idiots unless the alternative can be indisputably proven.
2. Come show-time, you will spend days in the sound booth. Fermenting pizza boxes do not create an enjoyable working atmosphere. Keep the sound booth clean.
20. Use of the phrase “too much duct tape” is a capital crime and is punishable by death.

Introductory Musings

So, to break the slightly awkward silence of a new blog, I'd better introduce myself.

I'm a (slighty?) insane thespian, just finished matric, who has been turned into a veritable socialite by the extreme post-exam boredom - hence this blog, created more for my own edification than out of a desire for popularity. Expect theatrical inside jokes, philosophical musings, theatrical jokes in general, attempts at literature, and anything else that pops into my head. Enjoy!