Currently, I am in the middle of a 3 day break from Muir Musical and our production of Hairspray. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do with this free time, but all I know is my endless Trello boards about the musical have been replaced with cards about cleaning my apartment, so that’s a start. My immune system is currently going haywire and I spent all day yesterday switching between laying around, thinking about how sleepy I was and napping for hours on end. It’s safe to say, I’m in recovery mode from opening weekend of Hairspray, and I couldn’t be more excited to jump back in to our final 3 performances this weekend.
The past few weeks have continued to present challenges to me that have pushed me to focus on being flexible and generous with my collaborators. My spring break was consumed by 12 hour days at the theater, first moving all of the scenic pieces into the space, then trying to configure how they would all fit backstage and who would move what during the performances. There was always something big happening on stage: lights getting focused, a traveller and 50 foot-wide scrim being moved to the front of the stage, sound setting up. Everything was coming together quickly, and it was so special to be a part of.
I was aware that my role would be shifting gears—away from the creative work of the rehearsal hall and to the needs of the designers, crew, and stage management team. Truthfully, I was excited about this change. It was refreshing to focus on new nitty-gritty elements of the production, to see the show start to come together in brand new ways, and to watch everyone dive into the specific elements of the production that they were most passionate about. I can’t even begin to explain how fun it was to open our props package and do inventory on one of the first days of build. It felt like Christmas morning. Not to mention, the props and scenic pieces had come from the national tour of Hairspray. Full on cheesy alert, but I suddenly felt this connection to every production of Hairspray that has come before us. This collective passion for storytelling, attention to details that the audience may never see but that bring so much joy to everyone involved in making the show happen, and love of creating art was overwhelming.
Tech feels like a blur. Reconnecting with my actors after 2 weeks apart was special and exciting. Allowing the authority and voice in the room to shift completely away from me and into the hands of my stage management team was surprisingly liberating. I tiptoed between caring deeply about every technical element of the production and focusing on keeping ownership in the designers’ hands. This usually culminated in me setting up a spot at the tech table, but also wandering around the theatre, taking note of how sight-lines and sound changed in every position. Being so tired, caffeinated, and excited about the end goal made this constant movement pretty helpful.
Most of all, I found time amidst all of the chaos to sit by myself, watch this show that has been created, and really take in how proud I am of what my team has accomplished. During tech, everything feels like it’s falling apart. I had read that in my directing books, experienced it for myself since I was 9 years old, and entered tech completely prepared for that reality. And yet, there were times when I was completely overwhelmed when moving into the new space and throwing scenic, lighting, and sound elements at the actors for the first time. Nevertheless, there was always a glimmer of the story that we had been working to tell underneath all of the new stress, and I believe we worked every day to uncover it more and more. I knew I had to have trust in the process, and that finally became clear on the day that our production opened.
On Saturday morning, we had a final rehearsal with the actors. There were some last minute touches that needed to be made with the moving lights, and tiny bits of spacing that could afford to be clarified. Additionally, with the entire story and every element put together for the first time, I was eager to look at a few pivotal storytelling moments so that actors could find a collective tone and momentum for each scene.
When the 4 hour rehearsal had come to an end, I felt a sense of relief. The detail work, my inevitable nagging, and all of the stress of tech was over. Now, it was time to show an audience what has been in the works for 10 months. I couldn’t be more excited to sit in the audience with my family and watch the actors shine.
After a successful opening night—to a sold out audience—the whole team went out to eat breakfast food, unwind, and celebrate what we had just accomplished. With a group of nearly 50 people, we took up the entirety of Denny’s and tried to forget that we had 2 more shows to do the next day. Looking around at the tables on tables that we had claimed, I couldn’t help but think how grateful I am for this community of students and artists that I have been surrounded by this year, and for my past 4 years with Muir Musical. I am so in awe of the work that every person has put into making Hairspray come to life.
