Last night felt like a dream…. real, but kind of unbelievable at the same time.
I feel like I’m floating in a bubble of happiness, so so thankful for everyone who helped out with this show, from my wonderful cast and hardworking crew (shoutout to Rachel, who amazed me with her resilience and creativity as assistant director - this was the first show she’s ever been in!!), and to all the volunteers who helped set up the performance and art exhibition. And I’m especially thankful for my amazing mother, who stayed up the night before, baking food for the bake sale/concession stand, then manning the concession stand during the show along with Nina’s mother!
After two months of hard work, everything came together in such an incredible way, I could not have asked for a more rewarding experience.
In the two weeks leading up to the showcase, everything was flowing quite smoothly.
Rachel and I would spend a majority of our time in Design Lab either cutting out these huge snowflakes for decoration, or painting the flats and platforms for the set.
Priya would write up our blog posts for the class, and help us whenever we needed a hand.
Last week, I posted a reflection on rehearsals, specifically group song rehearsals, with a video attached of us learning the sign language for Song of Purple Summer. Go check that out!
I had a crap ton of loose ends to tie up.
I had to revise the entire show program/playbill because we made a bunch of changes to the scenes and lineup of acts at the last minute. So throughout the school day (during lunch and Design Lab), I sat down and rushed to make the necessary changes.
Rachel, darling that she is, made sure that the set was finished and then helped me make the programs look nice. We stayed after school so that we could print the programs (and boy did that take a lot of time) and set up the art show.
I’m going to bow down to *queen* Rachel because she is truly a powerhouse. She took charge of setting up the entire art show, and she did a fantastic job with it!
The art itself was abso-frickin-lutely amazing! We hung strings of lights around the auditorium lobby for decoration, and the entire exhibition looked breath-taking.
We had a cue-to-cue rehearsal yesterday from 5:30, before the show.
We desperately needed it, because we hadn’t run the show in its entirety yet. The actual cue-to-cue went well, credit to the cast and crew for working so well together and coming prepared - everyone knew when their scenes were, where to be, etc.
We had some technical issues as we were starting the cue-to-cue: at first NONE of the stage lights were working!
RJ, who was doing lights and tech, ran an extension chord from the catwalk above the stage down to a table backstage, connecting the stage lights to his light board so that he could control them. For some reason, even though the extension chord was plugged and showed that it was working, the lights wouldn’t respond when RJ put them on. This was happening less than an hour before the show started. We decided to run through the cue-to-cue regardless, using just the spotlight and making sure that the acts and scene changes ran smoothly.RJ went up to the catwalk to try and fix the light issue. (He did eventually, but we still don’t know why they weren’t working)
Then, another problem came up: we realized that we had gotten the wrong microphones.
We had to borrow microphones from the school office (4 lapel mics and 2 handhelds), since we didn’t have our own. (When we found out that lapel mics were an option, we were super excited, because they allow for a much greater range of motion and the user doesn’t have to worry about how they’re holding them.)
* Quick side note: I made an incredibly stupid mistake earlier that day - I forgot to get the mics from the office. I was setting up the stage for the cue-to-cue when RJ asked me, “hey Irina, where are the microphones?”.
The only thing running through my head was ‘holy shit holy shit holy shit’.
And I took off, running to find one of the janitors. The mics were locked in a safe in one of the office closets, and only the administrators knew the code to that safe. I nearly broke down when I remembered that. All of this planning and hard work, going up in flames because I was stupid enough to forget to get the microphones. Thankfully, it turned out that there was a basketball game going on at that exact time, and one of the administrators was there. She unlocked the safe, I got the microphones, and booked it back to the auditorium in record time. **
The sound board backstage could only have 3 mics on at a time - either 2 lapels and 1 handheld or vice versa. And only certain mics could be turned on at the same time (for example, only lapel 1 and 3 could be on at the same time, and only 2 and 4 could be put on together), same thing with the handheld mics.
During dress rehearsal on Wednesday, Rachel and RJ had made sure to connect each of our microphones to the correct channel in the sound system, and they could only work if they were synced to that channel. When we started to do the cue-to-cue, we realized that we had borrowed the wrong handheld microphone, and that it wouldn’t work with any of the other mics that we had. Thankfully, Rachel figured out that we could just sync the microphone to one of the other channels, so we got back on track again.
We ended up pushing opening back 15 minutes; instead of letting people in at 6:30, we let them in at 6:45. Everyone was rushing around backstage, making final touches to their makeup, making sure the mics were in order, and getting in their places.
And then the show started.
The curtains open with me standing center stage, on the square platform.
My heart is pounding, my stomach in knots. I let out a slow breath, trying to calm my pulse. I close my eyes for a second, blinded by the spotlight, then look out at the audience. Vague black shapes can be seen in the audience, with faces peeking out here and there. My eyes immediately find Gillian, sitting down in the audience. My muscles relax, and I start speaking.
“This is for the fat girls.This is for the little brothers.This is for the schoolyard wimps and the childhood bullies that tormented them.For the former prom queen and for the milk crate ball players,for the nighttime cereal eaters and for the retired elderly Walmart storefront door greeters.
Shake the dust.”
After that opening poem (Shake the Dust by Anis Mojgani), the entire night was a blur.
At first I was really worried, rushing around to make sure that everyone was at their places and had their mics, that the crew knew what set change was next and that everyone was quiet backstage. But after a while I realized that I didn’t need to micro-manage it all.
I stepped back and let everyone do their thing, and guess what - it went perfectly!
I stood behind the flats that hid the backstage area and watched each act, tearing up a little at a sad poem, laughing when Ivy went out to read a Shakespearean soliloquy. And I was amazed at how wonderful each act was, how well the audience responded, how everything just fell into place.
At the end of the show, everyone took their bows and waved to the audience. Then Nina stepped forward as the curtains were closing, telling everyone to wait a second. She was holding a bouquet of roses, and pulled me, bumbling mess I was, forward with her. And as she thanked me for organizing the showcase, I looked around at all my friends, surrounding me on stage, and I thought “this is why I do theater. This is what makes it all worth it”.
And now, just a day later, post-show depression is hitting me, hard.
That’s probably why this post is really sappy and mushy, but I’m going to let myself wallow in it for a little while longer.
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