I knew better, but I did it anyway.

[mapsedge]

I knew better, but I did it anyway.

In addition to sound design, the director of the youth group show asked me to run lights for the production.  No big deal: a two preset, six circuit board with an X-Y crossfader and no lighting cue less than sixty seconds. The director is a friend of mine - a former-former owner of the coffeehouse - and I'm glad to do it.

The project started with the choir director/church organist - whom we'll call Elaine - asking Karen to use her theatrical experience and please take over the show. Not more than two weeks in, however, Elaine begins stirring the pot. I don't know all of the details, but I do know the outcome: what should have been a straightforward theatrical show with a cast of seven (eight? nine?) is now bookended by a pair of under-rehearsed and ill-conceived musical numbers, totally unrelated to the real show, featuring every individual in the church under the age of eighteen.

You could tell the poor kids had no idea what to do other than sing. Why? Because the song was shoehorned in at the last minute by - oh, c'mon. Guess.

Karen long since stopped trying to assert the control she was supposed to have. She directed as best she could around Elaine's meddling - a harsh word, but nothing else comes to mind just now - and the show, suffering difficulties of its own, to be sure - went on tonight.

It was okay. It was church youth group rather than professional actors, but having an audience made all the difference for those kids and having audience response brought the show to life. Stilted, unenthusiastic, and awkward, but life all the same.

The tech crew had to make due with running through the huge sound board for our communication. I had to take my own mic and headphones, and the stage manager was either too late or too early on almost all of her cues for me. I started ignoring her and running strictly by my cue sheet. The CD player - used for both music and sound FX - refused to cooperate, so one entire musical number was lost and the kids had to a cappela their way through the improvisation.

But we all had fun. Mad, giggling fun.

And what was it I knew better? Yes, R2, I was just coming to that.

The last song - the right side bookend - is the closing number from Grease.  We're all together...shamalama ding dong...  A contextually idiotic selection that fits on the end of Charlie Brown like a barbed-wire condom, but Elaine is the Church Organist (I've written about this species before - indeed, the same specimen) and will not be denied. The end of the song is very long - with eleven repetitions of the closing phrase. Our sound guy, whom we'll call Brendan, was told last night to fade the song at six reps.

Brendan - who looks to be fifteen or sixteen - is a smart kid, knows his way around the sound board like I know my living room. He gets it.

When we reach that point in the song, he and I start counting at each other with exagerrated hand gestures, 1... 2 ... 3 ... 4 ... he reaches for the CD player's volume control ... 5 ... starts to nudge it down ... 6 ...

Suddenly, Elaine is there, motioning for him to fade the music. He looks to her, distracted now and confused. Naturally, the music stops fading. She gestures furiously, fade the music, fade the music! His brain is trying to process this (I was fading the music...what do you want?), and listen to the stage manager who is also giving him cues. He finally just kills the channel.

I'm just the light guy on this production, it wasn't my place to say anything. But Karen and I have an understanding, and we basically - when it comes to theatrical matters, anyway - speak with the same voice.

When it was all over and the audience was milling about in various stages of escaping, I called Elaine over to a quiet corner.  

I knew better, but I did it anyway.

I said, "We've got several voices talking at us during the performance -stage manager in one ear, director in the other - and I think you may have distracted Brendan. He knows his job, he knows what he's doing. It might have been better to wait to give him direction until the show was over."

This simple, reasonable request created a firestorm that I couldn't have predicted. I can't even begin to type her response - I don't think she's been questioned on anything in fifty years, and the stammering, faltering, furious response, amazingly theatrical from a music major, was astonishing.  MY half of the discussion went something like this:

"Yes, I know" ... "Brendan was already doing it when you came over"  ..."Yes" ...  "He was told what to do last night" ... "Mm-hmm" ... "I'm just suggesting that it might have been better if you'd waited."

She walked away in the middle of the last sentence, called her husband over and began venting at him, looking venomously in my direction from time to time.

I went on with my post show wrap up. No big deal, I thought. I was calm, reasonable, and non-accusatory.

Elaine called me over to the same corner and began a long, angry defense of the show, the kids, the songs, and the Methodist Church as a whole so far as I could tell. She complained of the lack of rehearsal and the tight schedule, and lauded the kids and how hard they worked and how wonderful a show it was.

I agreed with every point. "Yes...I understand...it's a tough schedule to keep...yes...the kids were great!"

I wonder now if she wanted a fight, wanted me to rise up and match her, anger for anger. I didn't. I was sympathetic, and understanding. I reiterated my concern that having so many voices could be problematic, again that Brendan is smart and knows his job, and that changes were best noted when it was all done.

As I stood agreeing with her, she finally raised her hands in dismissal and said, walking away, "I'm not going to argue with you."

It's almost as if I didn't have the right script for Her Drama.  


Late Edit: Saturday night I watched Brendan closely, and, no, he wasn't fading the song fast enough. I think I begin to understand now that Elaine wanted him to fade it out quickly - "on a two-count" I would have said - but, so far as I know, all she ever told him was "fade it out."...which is not nearly enough.




In this journal I have made it clear I don't really like CFO. He isn't someone that I would of my own choice go to dinner and drinks with. We don't "hang out." But I have learned something from him: I've learned how to have a conflict and walk away unhurt.

As I stood, nearly toe to toe with Elaine, I put to good use what CFO has taught me*:

- argue issues, not egos;

- do not be distracted from your concerns by irrationality;

- remember what you care about and fight for it;

- and most importantly, keep a soft answer.

In this arena, the tech end of the production, I am unassailably competent and, perhaps more importantly, I care. I made a reasonable request in a reasonable voice, privately, showing care for her feelings every bit as much as for the show. I knew better, but I did it anyway, and I earned myself what I believe will be the undying enmity of this woman. I don't care, not really. I'm sorry she was offended, but not that I was protective of the crew, and certainly not that I stepped up and into a confrontation**.

I hope she'll get over it.  For my part, I did the right thing.



* I learned some of this from Danny Reardon as well, by example.

** Five years ago, I couldn't have done that. Three years ago, I couldn't have dealt with the firestorm, not calmly anyway. A year ago, I wouldn't have stayed on message. I'm still not comfortable with confrontation, but I'm getting better at it.

Comments

[nottygypsy.livejournal.com]

Color me impressed. Seriously.

[motherpockets.livejournal.com]

You did well! Better than I did, years ago, when I very calmly (I thought) tried to kick the director out of the light booth because he was doing exactly the same thing--yelling at our light tech who knew her job, while I was trying to talk her through a small fire on stage during performance. He got mad, and I lost a friend. He is now one of the owners of one of the biggest professional theatres in KC, and I'm a case manager for Johnson County. Probably worked out better for both of us.

[jehosefatz.livejournal.com]

*scribbling notes*

Your response is probably better.

My first response would be along the lines of "You should consider how difficult it will be to fit through doors with that organ bench shoved up your ass... which is where it will be if you ever pull that kind of shit with the kid again."

- Jeho

[billthetailor.livejournal.com]

Your response is probably better.

And ultimately fruitless. Same story tonight. I let it go as, in the long wrong, not worth it.

[cronewyse.livejournal.com]

Did the sound kid get to hear you defend him? 'Cause that would be extra keen :)

[billthetailor.livejournal.com]

No, he was elsewhere, although he is sanguine enough that I don't think he'd care one way or the other.