the sun'll come out tomorrow...
Oh my word, gentle reader; I think I may have mentioned that I was designing a production of Annie this past weekend. Probably omitted to mention that it was as a favour for a friend that I only agreed to after an extremely drunken evening (and morning) in a hotel in stirling back in March.I haven't designed an am-dram show for years, although, in the days when I believed that the quantity of shows on ones' CV was more important than the quality, I was something of an am-dram tart, and must have done dozens. This experience brought the whole tragic experience flooding back, the world of my work is filled with Health and Safety legislation, covering all aspects from fire proofing, safe lifting and even what type of shoes you have to wear.
It was a bit of a shock to walk into the theatre (which I'll not name), and discover that the set is made of pallets and old car tyres. It was all so brutally familiar; am-drams discovered scaffolding about half a century ago, and everything has to be designed around it, so half the time is spent trying to disguise the extraneous metal bits poking up in unwanted places. The notion of making the set elements structural or self-supporting is a foreign one, especially when the construction is based around hardboard nailed onto a flimsy framework of rough sawn timber.
The major structural element of the Annie set was a railway arch, spanning about twelve feet, construction as above, this had to be flown on to a scaffolding armature. I was somewhat bemused to see that they proposed to fly it on green nylon string, practically gardening twine, and that the 'supporting' columns were simply cardboard boxes taped together, and chocked up on carpet tiles to make them fit.
They had borrowed a painted back-cloth (to replace the projected cyclorama that they suddenly discovered they couldn't afford), this cloth was of the head of the Statue of Liberty, from a production of 'Dames at Sea' at Hornchurch, and was an excellently painted cloth in very good condition, unfortunately (and some of you might have seen this coming), it measures 40' wide by 24' drop (Hornchurch is a full size flying theatre). There is no bar in the building at a height of more than 13'6", and the width needed was about 15', they were still wrestling with heavy stiff canvas when I left the building about 11.00 last night, and they're probably still fighting it now.
The other thing that I had forgotten about working with am-drams, quite apart from their astonishment if you just get on with it and don't throw any tantrums, is a total inability to deal with colour. Colour is a large part of my business; I need to know what colours are used in the scene painting, fabrics etc in order to make my own design decisions. In the am-dram world, colour is just what's in the workshop (or if you're in an upmarket theatre, the paintstore), and you go and mix together what you need from whatever is there. The myth that you can mix any colour from a selection of ochres and some half-used emulsion is one that I actually tried to puncture, way back in the days when I thought anybody at my local am-dram theatre actually cared.
The result, after the theatre's been running for a few years, is that all the paint jobs end up as a variation on a theme of brown. If the scene painter is a bit adventurous, it'll look like a dirty protest, if not, it'll look like badly painted hardboard with the joins covered in masking tape.
I can't say much about the lighting, I kept it big and simple, and still their equipment couldn't cope, I spent more time problem solving than I did actually lighting. My rig would have gone in in an hour, and focussed in forty minutes on an organised fit-up, as it was I had to work with prima donna noise boys (wearing the 'sound rigger' t-shirt you can buy on eBay, an instant signifier of a rank amateur*), musicians who wanted to set up, but couldn't work in the same room as a ladder, and finally, a dog trainer, who thought it would be a good experience to bring his malodorous semi-sheepdog in during the fit-up to get it used to the environment.
I was so grateful that I had promised them one day only, my feeling of relief as I walked away from the venue was enormous, and no guilt at all. As I write, they are doing their dress rehearsal, I've only had one phone call, and as I was in a production meeting in the East End at the time I wasn't able to be terribly helpful. I shan't be going to see it!
As a final, slightly bilious note, a while ago I had occasion to look up the website for my local am-dram theatre (at which I used to do loads of shows), and looked up the lighting department page to see what they were up to. The last I heard there'd been a little putch, and a former chairman had managed to get himself re-elected, despite having previously been ousted on a vote of no confidence. A retired local government employee, he was notable only for the startling tedium of his meetings, and an inherent inability to point lights at actors. Forgetting, I suppose, that, actors faces usually begin about five feet off the ground, he would always focus his lights on an empty stage, with the result that the performers were always brilliantly illuminated from the crotch down, but their faces tended to drift in and out of shadow.
An innovation that I spotted on their website, getting back to the point; was a new grade of lighting technician, fitting in between the novice and the supposedly more experienced board operator, called an 'improver' his/her function is to improve the lighting designer's work. Which gives you some idea of the value they place on a lighting designer down there, anybody tries to improve my work without my consent is unlikely to feel very happy at the end of it. Oh well, end of rather a long and rambling blog, back to the real world of panto and afro-caribbean hair products for the rest of the month.
* eg: http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/T-SHIRT-DONT-ASK-ME-IM-ONLY-THE-SOUND-ENGINEER_W0QQitemZ7363952052QQcategoryZ106454QQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem
posted by Lampy @ 11/07/2005 07:58:00 pm
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