Sunday, June 21, 2009

Thursday 20 June

The best thing that happened was that I got my laptop, and got back the tiny bit of connection that I could to the outside world.

It's been lovely.

Unfortunately with getting the Internet, I came to realize that the Stage Manger for the show that is in rehearsal now has been sending me about 2 e-mails a day requesting and adding and changing the props for the show. I think its important to say that the props list started at about 85 props, and its grown to about 10 more a day.

Needless to say I didn't know what to do since I was the only person with a props title, but I knew where nothing was and was really confused at to what I needed to do.

So yah.

I decided to leave all the props stuff for another day and since the TD virtually disappeared for most of the day, myself and the other 2 interns were left on our own.

So I gutted and cleaned and organized the paint kitchen.

It was disgusting, but it looks a lot better then it did before, but I think this paint area is to a point where its beyond help.

Shortly after I started cleaning the paint area, the designer come down to me and tells me that he needs me to come with him to a production meeting, because if he isn't around he wants me to know whats going on so people can come to me and ask me questions.


So does this mean that I am now Assistant to the Designer as well?

I go to the production meeting and I am the only intern there. The TD asks me why I am there and I tell him that the designer has asked me to be there.

During the meeting they start to talk about the show that we have been working on (the one that has the 3 5'-6 x 9' painted portraits in it). The show is called "Merton on the Movies" and it's basically takes place in 1930 and is about this country boy who goes to Hollywood with hopes to be a famous actor. Not my cup of tea, but I digress.

So we're in this production meeting and the designer is asking me to read off all the questions he asked me to write down for him earlier that day, and the director is just spewing off all this junk that is coming out of his mouth and is really not making any sense.

For example:

There are moments in the play where they are 'filming' on old Hollywood sets. The director is trying to communicate (rather poorly) to the rest of the people at the table that while they are 'filming' he would like the look on stage to alter drastically. This is what he tells us:

"When the director on the film set calls "Action!" can we make the entire set go from color to black and white so it looks like the actual set is on film?"


Unfortunately this really did happen and I had to do everything in my power not to bust out laughing. I looked over at my boss (the TD) and I thought he was going to die.

The response from the production manager was probably the best part of it all:

"Umm, if we were magicians, then sure."

So that was the highlight of my first production meeting.

That night was the opening of our first show, "St. Nicholas" by Connor McPherson. It's a one man show, and it requires the audience to think and actually be an active participant, not just someone who stares at the action taking place on stage like it's chewing gum for their eyes.

I highly recommend it.

Of course with every opening night comes the crazy after party. I wasn't really feeling it since I just got my laptop and really wanted nothing more to do with what was around me so I decided to isolate myself from the party, since rocking out to Bob Marley and hippie music and drinking PBR (even if I could, I wouldn't) and smoking a bushel of pot was not on my list of things to do, I was okay with being a hermit.

I've decided that I enjoy being the sober ones in these kinds of situations because the things that I see people do and what they say, is quite enjoyable even though they don't realize what they are saying. Two interns were having a very loud conversation about how they wanted to hook up with each other and agreed that they only wanted a summer fling...but before they could get any farther into the negotiations of this bizarre verbal contract, the girl ran off to the bathroom to spew--now that's romantic.

Eventually people passed out everywhere, and by everywhere I'm pretty sure someone was laying in the staircase. Needless to say I'll be dealing with a few more of these nights this summer.