(no subject)
Feb. 28th, 2005 03:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oakenguyLet me start out by saying that what happened during the living marionette performance was nobody's fault.
No, wait, scratch that. The performance itself was fine. The other actors were good, all the cues went off, the audience loved it. No harm, no foul.
So, if a screw-up had to happen, I'd much rather it happen at the very beginning of the performance than at the very end.
That said...
The plan was that I, the techie, would be all in black with a balaclava over my head (note: not a baklava. I made that mistake. They're very different.*) I'd loudly use the bathroom on the balcony just as the narrator started, interrupting him and startling the audience--what's someone dressed as a ninja doing coming out of the bathroom?--, and make my way along the balcony and down to the stage, where I'd slip behind the curtain and be my invisible competent self, triggering sound effects and passing props out through the curtain to the performers.
Note the word 'invisible'.
The first trouble occurred when I discovered that, short of setting off fireworks, no noise was going to escape that bathroom. No worries. I emerged dramatically, the narrator drew the audience's attention to me, I looked sheepish and headed downstairs. The actors were in place, there was a black curtain behind them, I stepped up to it....and it was stapled to the wall.
There was a brief period of time, probably just seconds but it felt like much, MUCH more, while I ran back and forth trying to figure out how to get behind the curtain. But it wasn't a curtain, you see. It was the wall. It was as I noticed all the props lined up in the inches of space between the actors and the wall that I realized the curtain had never actually been hung.
After that, things got much better. The bladder from the box of wine that we'd emptied out and filled with buttermilk stayed full until it was time for the actress's water to break (a good thing, for the scent of buttermilk and cheap wine is _nasty_), none of the puppet strings got tangled with the costumes, and no audience members objected to the presence of a koala, piglet and parrot mixed in with the kittens that our star gave birth to. If anything, they added color.
And, we got to hang out in the dressing room with the local masked female wrestling troupe. I won't give away all their secrets, but in the upcoming tournament, look for a strong nun presence facing off against The Conqueror Worm. With holy water, even.
Ah, show biz.
*One's much stickier, for one thing.
No, wait, scratch that. The performance itself was fine. The other actors were good, all the cues went off, the audience loved it. No harm, no foul.
So, if a screw-up had to happen, I'd much rather it happen at the very beginning of the performance than at the very end.
That said...
The plan was that I, the techie, would be all in black with a balaclava over my head (note: not a baklava. I made that mistake. They're very different.*) I'd loudly use the bathroom on the balcony just as the narrator started, interrupting him and startling the audience--what's someone dressed as a ninja doing coming out of the bathroom?--, and make my way along the balcony and down to the stage, where I'd slip behind the curtain and be my invisible competent self, triggering sound effects and passing props out through the curtain to the performers.
Note the word 'invisible'.
The first trouble occurred when I discovered that, short of setting off fireworks, no noise was going to escape that bathroom. No worries. I emerged dramatically, the narrator drew the audience's attention to me, I looked sheepish and headed downstairs. The actors were in place, there was a black curtain behind them, I stepped up to it....and it was stapled to the wall.
There was a brief period of time, probably just seconds but it felt like much, MUCH more, while I ran back and forth trying to figure out how to get behind the curtain. But it wasn't a curtain, you see. It was the wall. It was as I noticed all the props lined up in the inches of space between the actors and the wall that I realized the curtain had never actually been hung.
After that, things got much better. The bladder from the box of wine that we'd emptied out and filled with buttermilk stayed full until it was time for the actress's water to break (a good thing, for the scent of buttermilk and cheap wine is _nasty_), none of the puppet strings got tangled with the costumes, and no audience members objected to the presence of a koala, piglet and parrot mixed in with the kittens that our star gave birth to. If anything, they added color.
And, we got to hang out in the dressing room with the local masked female wrestling troupe. I won't give away all their secrets, but in the upcoming tournament, look for a strong nun presence facing off against The Conqueror Worm. With holy water, even.
Ah, show biz.
*One's much stickier, for one thing.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-02-28 11:44 pm (UTC)I'm tempted sometimes, myself. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-03-01 01:58 am (UTC)just reminded me of the song....
*kiss kiss*
no subject
Date: 2005-03-01 03:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-01 03:20 pm (UTC)- One of the Human Marionette Puppeteers