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By Ali Mignone, Stage Manager for Strings Music Festival

For the staff, volunteers and crew at Strings, these past eight weeks have been like Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride in The Wind in the Willows—our own musical escapade to “nowhere in particular.” But as the Strings Music Festival summer season winds down, many things in the pavilion are depleted: hospitality stocks of water and trail mix, every single Sharpie marker, microphone batteries and much of this stage manager’s energy and brain capacity.

Live music venue Steamboat Springs Strings Music Pavilion

I have come to understand that there is a natural progression for any season-oriented undertaking:

  • Game On—fully stocked and raring to go
  • Oops, Oh Yeah—early season overconfidence, relearning last season’s forgotten lessons
  • The Groove—mid-season smooth sailing, stuff is getting done, people are getting along
  • We Can Do This—final stretch re-energizing, psyche up for the finish, buy more Band-Aids
  • It’s Not Over Yet?—bleary-eyed-ness and inability to form complete sentences even though there’s work yet to be done

Personally, I am smack-dab in the middle of the final stage, so the remainder of this column will be about me counting things and forgetting to put in proper punctuation (with apologies to the Pilot’s copyeditors for the extra work).

A distillation of Strings’ 29th summer season:

  • 12,815 Audience members
  • 107 Classical musicians
  • 95 Hours of classical rehearsal
  • 79 Community volunteers
  • 60 Pots of (terrible) coffee
  • 46 Guild members
  • 45 Different Tempo artists
  • 30 Performances at the pavilion
  • 8 Free shows at the Botanic Park
  • 4 Rolls of black gaff tape
  • 1 Hard-working technical crew and management team

And finally,

  • ∞ music stand and orchestra chair moves

Our crazy, eight-week musical adventure has brought us from Clint Black to Charlie Chaplin’s Gold Rush to Tommy Emmanuel and all the way to Vienna in 1800. And now, we exit the summer season ride a little breathless, somewhat windblown and ready to prop our slippered feet up on the fender and proclaim it a jolly good time indeed.

 

Upcoming fall/winter events:

Tickets available at (970) 879-5056 and www.stringsmusicfestival.com.

 

Ali Mignone stage manages for Strings Music Festival, among other things. When she’s not telling roadies and musicians what to do, you can find her hiking, biking or skiing around the Yampa Valley and blogging at thequirkyquill.com.

Posted on August 12, 2016
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By Ali Mignone, Stage Manager for Strings Music Festival

I often write about performing artists and their quirks in this column, giving short shrift to my black-clad stagehand colleagues who are the heavy lifters, the gaff-tapers, the fix-it-quick-ers and the small gods of all things technical.

So I set out to write a column about the history of stagehands, going back to Greek theatre (700 BC) and Roman theatre (4th century). But what I discovered was…nothing. I admit that my research is done online in three hour chunks of classical rehearsal time and is regularly interrupted by necessary rehearsal tasks. But, still…nothing?

It wasn’t until I moved into 14th century Japan and the start of the Noh theatre tradition that I started to find written details about stagehands. It’s clear that the Greeks and the Romans had them—based on stage directions written into surviving scripts, the layout of theatre ruins and the undeniable fact that performer egos are performer egos no matter what century they inhabit—but stagehand contributions from those periods are lost to time. Or at least, they’re lost to this stage manager’s quick perusal of the internet during a rehearsal break.

Stage attendants for Japanese Noh theatre are called “koken,” even to this day. The running crew for Japanese Kabuki theatre are “kuroko.” In these traditional art forms—which date back to the 14th and 17th centuries—the koken and kuroko appear onstage, wearing black, to move scenery and props during a performance, much like today’s western stagehands. Their black clothing signaled to the audience that they were not part of the action of the performance, that they were not to be noticed. During a Kabuki performance, kuroko might become scenery themselves—by stretching a piece of fabric to become a wall or the sea, or holding a mask to represent an animal or another natural element.

Western theatre lore says that theatrical rigging for backdrops and scenery pieces in Elizabethan times came from ship rigging, and that the 16th century stagehand was probably a sailor working a second job. While that idea might be apocryphal, I like the thought that when sailors were in port between sailing gigs, they might get work as theatre technicians.

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In the 17th century, western opera took the idea of the not-to-be-seen stagehand and expanded it to fit opera’s more-is-more grandeur with the supernumerary. A supernumerary is a non-speaking, non-singing role intended to fill out the stage with people during crowd scenes. Unlike their Japanese stagehand cousins, opera supers are actors and appear in costume, not in black, because they’re intended to be part of the scene. Although their larger purpose is to create stage tableaux during the performance, supers are often called on to move furniture and props during the singing action onstage.

Strings has a small technical crew—a lighting designer, a lead audio engineer, an assistant audio engineer and a stage manager. For classical recordings, we also have a recording engineer. For Different Tempo shows, our production director joins in the heavy lifting. In a larger venue, each of these positions would be managing multiple team members, designing systems and directing the action of a department. At Strings, each of us is a get-your-hands-dirty worker as well as the brains behind our individual specialties onstage. What that means for me is that, in addition to being the stage manager, I am also the sole classical concert stagehand, regularly seen onstage (wearing black) moving chairs and stands.

My excellent colleagues happily jump in to help me when there’s more to move than I can manage, leaving their lighting and soundboard brain work behind to become piano-moving or harpsichord-shifting muscle. Theatre technicians can be a territorial lot (some crews act like they’re still crotchety Elizabethan pirates on second jobs), making cross-departmental cooperation a thing to be celebrated. So, even though stagehands have been avoiding the limelight for centuries, I’d like to put the spotlight on the stage crew at Strings for some well-deserved kudos.

Thanks, guys. You’re the best—I couldn’t do this without you.

 

Upcoming events:

Tickets available at (970) 879-5056 and www.stringsmusicfestival.com.

 

Ali Mignone stage manages for Strings Music Festival, among other things. When she’s not telling roadies and musicians what to do, you can find her hiking, biking or skiing around the Yampa Valley and blogging at thequirkyquill.com.

 

Posted on August 8, 2016
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By Ali Mignone, Stage Manager for Strings Music Festival

I move a lot of chairs and music stands around the Strings Music Pavilion these days, usually in the service of setting up or striking an orchestra. Luckily for me, hundreds of years of music history provide a road map for my organizational and logistical efforts. A western orchestra is made up of four sections, or families—strings, woodwinds, brass and percussion—and the location of each instrument onstage is pretty standard.

Strings: instruments that make sound from strings that are plucked (guitar, harp), bowed (violin) or struck (dulcimer, piano).

Woodwinds: instruments that make sound by having air blown into them, either across an edge (flute), through a reed (clarinet, saxophone), or between two reeds (bassoon.)

Brass: instruments that make sound by vibrating air through the lips into a mouthpiece. They may or may not be made out of metal.

brass-instruments

Percussion: instruments that make sound by being hit, shaken, scratched or rubbed.

Notice that these families have nothing to do with what the instrument is made from, and everything to do with how each group produces sound. Flutes and saxophones are both made of metal, but they belong to the woodwind family, not the brass, because they don’t use the lip vibration method to make sound. It could certainly be argued that brass instruments and woodwinds are cousins, since they both produce sound with air. But the method of producing the sound and the resulting timbre of the sound are so different between the groups that they’re categorized as separate families.

It can also be argued that, instead of being a string instrument, the piano belongs to the percussion family because it produces sound by hammers hitting the strings. In fact, after (admittedly brief) research online, it seems that the question of which family can claim the piano is an ongoing argument among people who care about such things. For my purposes, which consist solely of “where do I put this onstage?”, the piano is a string instrument and sits behind the violins in orchestra setup.

(Unless the orchestra is playing a piano concerto, and then the piano sits front and center in the solo position. Let’s not even mention the logistical nightmare that happens when the piano has a starring role in one piece, but has to move to its modest rear position for another piece in the same program. I’m so grateful that Strings’ pianos have wheels…)

Orchestra configurations can differ, depending on the instrumentation and the conductor’s preferences, but in general, the families are grouped together and set up from stage right to stage left like this: first violins, second violins, violas, cellos, basses behind cellos. Woodwinds are grouped together mid-stage, right behind the violas. Brass are usually in a row behind the winds, but occasionally they get grouped over by the basses if space is tight. Percussion goes behind everybody. Because the Strings stage is relatively shallow, I tend to set up timpani at stage left rear, behind the basses, and percussion at stage right rear, behind the violins.

At their kids’ performances, C Street Brass makes a reasonable-sounding trumpet onstage using just a piece of rubber tube and a plastic funnel. And just to prove that instrument families are about sound production method and not materials, if funnel-tubing guy shows up to play an orchestra concert, I’ll give him a seat in the brass section.

 

Upcoming events:

Tickets available at (970) 879-5056 and www.stringsmusicfestival.com.

 

Ali Mignone stage manages for Strings Music Festival, among other things. When she’s not telling roadies and musicians what to do, you can find her hiking, biking or skiing around the Yampa Valley and blogging at thequirkyquill.com.

 

Posted on August 1, 2016
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By Ali Mignone, Stage Manager for Strings Music Festival

If an army marches on its stomach, then a music festival marches on its coffee mug.

It has fallen to me to make the backstage coffee at Strings. But it has fallen to others to drink it. At this point, four weeks into the season, I’ve made around 30 pots of brown go-go juice. That might not seem like much if you work at Creekside or Winona’s, but I’m a tea drinker (coffee caffeine makes me too feisty for company), so that amount seems enormous to me. And I make truly awful coffee, so that amount probably seems enormous to my co-workers and the musicians, too.

There’s the pot of coffee for the Strings crew and office staff, first to arrive in the morning. Then there’s one for the musicians to sip at as they prep for rehearsal. On Different Tempo days, there’s also a pot for the traveling crew as they emerge, bleary-eyed, from the tour bus that made an overnight haul to Steamboat from their last gig. Sometimes there’s a second pot needed at rehearsal break for the classical musicians, or one at dinner to keep the Different Tempo bus and truck drivers awake overnight to the next gig.

The nice people at Steamboat Coffee and Tea Company must have heard about my…creations…so they took pity on the artists and kindly donated the use of a fancy machine and a bunch of lovely coffee for classical rehearsals. They also insisted on coming to Strings to train me on how to use the machine properly. This took an hour, because I am both dense and stubbornly resistant to change. But I take good notes and follow directions eventually, so the classical musicians get the good stuff.

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My co-workers and the Different Tempo artists, on the other hand, get the regular old coffee pot and whatever ratio of coffee grounds to water that happens to appeal to me on that day. It is not always a fortunate combination.

Why, in heaven’s name, would they ask a tea drinker to make gallons of coffee for already high-strung artistic types? Someone at Strings has a sick sense of humor.

I’ve been accused of making terrible coffee on purpose, in the hope that someone (anyone) will ask me not to make it anymore. While the idea of a secret exit plan appeals to me, I actually consider myself in the Coffee Philosophy Camp of my brother Dave, a combat veteran with three (soon to be four) small children, who believes that coffee is simply a tool for consciousness. “Are you awake?” he says. “Then it’s working. Who cares what it tastes like?”

Just how bad can my coffee be if so many people are drinking so much of it during the season? Well, let me give you one example: Production Director Steve Chambers used caffeinated water to make coffee while he was a rigger on a U2 tour and reported that it tasted horrible, but he still drank enough to make his eyes vibrate. This is a man who will drink just about anything. But last Sunday, even though sound engineers Noah and Tyler managed to choke down a cup each, Steve rebelled at my backstage bean water and offered to make a new pot himself.

Maybe that exit plan idea has some merit. If only I had thought of it four weeks ago…

 

Upcoming events:

Tickets available at (970) 879-5056 and www.stringsmusicfestival.com.

 

Ali Mignone stage manages for Strings Music Festival, among other things. When she’s not telling roadies and musicians what to do, you can find her hiking, biking or skiing around the Yampa Valley and blogging at thequirkyquill.com.

 

Posted on July 18, 2016
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By Ali Mignone, Stage Manager for Strings Music Festival

Concert days at Strings are an ever-shifting grab-bag of variables, and any time you combine territorial technicians, quirky electronic equipment, delicate musical instruments, egos, nerves and jet lag, there’s a really good chance that something will go wrong.

Some of you will remember that we started the Chris Botti show 30 minutes late last year because his traveling sound board died 15 minutes before the show, and we had to replace it with ours and re-patch the entire show’s sound cabling before we could start. It was a pretty major train wreck with nothing to be done about it except move as fast as possible once the disaster struck.

soundboard

But sometimes we get lucky and disaster passes us by with a wink and a nod, and the audience is never aware that there was a problem at all. If you’ve been to Strings this summer, I hope you were blissfully ignorant of the close calls so far.

Clint Black’s longtime drummer was having surgery, so they brought a substitute drummer. Not only was this the band’s first drummer sub in 30 years, the day of our show was also the sub’s first rehearsal and first performance with the group. He was so terribly nervous backstage that I considered giving him a bucket in case nerves turned into nausea. Then he went onstage and killed it. No bucket required.

One of the two screens on Clint Black’s traveling lighting board went blank during rehearsal/sound check. The crew pulled the computerized guts out of the thing and spent hours poking at it with screwdrivers while talking to tech support on the phone. Despite my skepticism, they got it back together and working again before we opened the house for the audience.

At 6:55pm on Opening Orchestra night, one of the bass players realized that the weird brass fitting and two screws that had mysteriously appeared onstage at dress rehearsal behind his stool were, in fact, from his instrument. With help from our audio/recording intern, Tyler Peyman, the bass was quickly—if a little frantically—repaired and tuned, and we started at 7:02pm with a visibly relieved bass player.

I made a set change before the last piece on Orchestra Opening night and accidentally left two empty music stands behind, right in the middle of the entrance walkway. Conductor Michael Sachs saved my bacon by pointing it out, but I still had to scurry around like a frightened rabbit to try and clear them up before he tripped on my mistake.

Eric, the Fab Four musician who plays Ringo Starr, wears a really good prosthetic nose as part of his makeup. But Eric sweats a lot, and that nose really wanted to be somewhere else by the time the show was done. Another encore would have been a disaster.

nose

Brent Rowan’s concert day is always as pleasant and easy-going as Brent himself. So easy-going, in fact, that it made me nervously wonder at 7:45pm, “What are we forgetting?” In an unusual move for Murphy’s Law, it turns out that we forgot nothing, and no little mishaps occurred moments before show time.

Does it count as a close call if I anxiously await a disaster that never comes?

Upcoming events:

Tickets available at (970) 879-5056 and www.stringsmusicfestival.com.

 

Ali Mignone stage manages for Strings Music Festival, among other things. When she’s not telling roadies and musicians what to do, you can find her hiking, biking or skiing around the Yampa Valley and blogging at thequirkyquill.com.

Posted on July 11, 2016
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By Ali Mignone stage manager for Strings Music Festival

Two of the shows at Strings this week—Tuesday’s family concert at 5:30pm and Wednesday’s classical chamber music at 7pm—feature an unusual instrument called the cimbalom. In its concert case, the cimbalom looks a little like a cousin to a piano. Except that the cimbalom is sort of rectangular and has an open top that allows the musician to play the strings directly with mallets, instead of the piano’s familiar keyboard.

In musical terms, the cimbalom is a type of hammered dulcimer. Hammered dulcimers are folk instruments found in cultures all over the world, and they’re usually sized to be held for playing. The cimbalom, with its legged case, is the largest version of these instruments and is intended for the concert stage. As the national instrument of Hungary, the cimbalom features prominently in works by Hungarian composers.

I hadn’t heard of the cimbalom before, so when it turned out to be featured this week on the Strings Festival stage, I started to wonder what other unusual instruments might be out there. It turns out that there are approximately one zillion musical instruments that are not part of a typical western music orchestral roster. Unfortunately, column space limits me to just these few:

Octobass: said to be the largest string instrument ever made, this gigantic double bass has three strings. The first octobass, built in 1850, is 3.4 meters tall; it’s so big that it has levers and foot pedals to manage the strings, and is often played by two people – one to run the bow and one to run the levers and pedals. Its specialty is playing extremely low notes, some of them outside the range of human hearing.

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Theremin: an early electronic instrument that looks like a transistor radio on a stick, the theremin is played by dipping the hands into and out of two invisible electromagnetic fields. Not only does it look weird itself, it also makes the musician look like a looney. The theremin was invented by a Soviet scientist studying proximity sensors in the 1920s, and although newer electronic instruments are easier to play, none of them matches the theremin’s especially creepy sound.

Pyrophone organ: this internal combustion instrument is also known as the “fire/explosion organ.” That should be enough to nullify any insurance policy right there. The pyrophone uses controlled explosions to produce tones and is usually powered by propane. I hear that playing one is just like playing a pipe organ. Except for the fire. And the explosions.

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But why play these weird instruments at all? They seem unwieldy, impossibly fragile and perhaps even downright dangerous. (I’m looking at you, pyrophone.) Composers and musicians choose these instruments because of the unique sounds they make.

With its bright and energetic sound and a very fast tremolo, the cimbalom is often used by western composers to introduce a “foreign” sound. The octobass is said to produce tones so low that you can feel them vibrating your skeleton, but you can’t hear them at all. And nothing says creepy alien invasion quite like the wobbly, other-worldly tones of the theremin.

Music is emotion (and mathematics, according to my college music theory professor in a class that made me hate life), and if an instrument can produce the particular feeling needed for a piece by virtue of its unique acoustic resonance, then that is the right one for the composition. Regardless of whether or not it’s part of the western orchestral pantheon.

And maybe, regardless of whether or not it requires you to keep a fire extinguisher nearby while playing it.

 

Upcoming events:

Tickets available at (970) 879-5056 and www.stringsmusicfestival.com.

Ali Mignone stage manages for Strings Music Festival, among other things. When she’s not telling roadies and musicians what to do, you can find her hiking, biking or skiing around the Yampa Valley and blogging at thequirkyquill.com.

 

Posted on June 29, 2016
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By Ali Mignone stage manages for Strings Music Festival

If you ask someone who loves rock-n-roll to describe classical music, you might get a shrug and a vague notion of prissy violins played by snooty people in tuxedos. Turn that around and ask the classical lover about rock music, and you might get a sniff and a complaint about distorted lyrics and impossible decibel levels. And each music lover might look at the other, offended, and say, “But my music is so much more than that! You’re missing the point,” before launching into a spirited defense of their maligned genre.

And they would each be right. And also wrong.

Let’s start with the right: some classical music is rather inaccessible and precious, and lots of orchestras make the musicians dress up in monkey suits and uncomfortable, pointy shoes. And some rock music is completely unintelligible and monstrously loud for no discernable reason other than: because they can.

And now the wrong. Decibel perception and bad sound mixes aside, rock music’s driving beat and howling guitars are integral to the compositions and often showcase truly virtuosic playing abilities. And far from being stiff and proper, many of the great classical composers were the rock star rebels of their times. All of Beethoven’s symphonies except the Ninth were widely panned, with one critic saying that Beethoven was “ripe for the madhouse.” They said his work was too exciting, not dignified, discordant, harsh, wild, and utterly confusing.

That should sound familiar to anyone whose parents loved big band music and were horrified by their children’s interest in early rock-n-roll…

But I’m picking on classical and rock music unfairly. Plenty of other genres could use a little understanding, too.

Country and its sub-genres have always borrowed elements from other traditions. You’ll find Irish and Scottish folk music influences in bluegrass, hints of Mexico in honky tonk, and shades of disco in 70s country music. Today’s country includes nods to hip-hop, gospel, and rock.

Hip-hop distinguishes itself from rhythm & blues with sample loops manipulated live for stage shows by a deejay combined with rap or R&B lyrics performed live. Recorded hip-hop often has multiple, complicated sample loops from other genres underscoring the lyrics. For example, artists Nas and Puff Daddy sampled “O Fortuna” from Carmina Burana on “Hate Me Now.”

World music is, enormously, non-western music. How’s that for a giant ocean of sounds to wade through?

Notoriously difficult to define, jazz has its roots in improvisational blues. But it’s not always free-form—jazz can host a strong rhythm section with African and Latin American beat patterns and ragtime’s highly structured compositions are also in the jazz category.

If you’re on the “how can you listen to that stuff” side of one of these kinds of music, let me assure you that these categories are as varied as the musicians who play them. Musicians bring their own influences with them as they glide in and out of different styles, and the styles evolve over time. No matter what your preferences, there is something in that mysterious genre that will appeal to you, if you let it.

Strings Music Festival summer season opens this week. Check out a new music genre this summer!

Upcoming events:

Tickets available at (970) 879-5056

Ali Mignone stage manages for Strings Music Festival, among other things. When she’s not telling roadies and musicians what to do, you can find her hiking, biking or skiing around the Yampa Valley and blogging at thequirkyquill.com.

Posted on June 20, 2016
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By Ali Mignone, Stage Manager for Strings Music Festival

In an age of immediate and ever-present digital entertainment—insomniacs rejoice—what’s the purpose of live performance? Why pay money to go somewhere to listen to live music with a whole bunch of people you don’t know, when you could listen to an error-free recording of the same thing from the couch only five feet from your refrigerator?

Let’s be honest. Part of the reason to go to a live show on a concert stage is because stuff might go wrong. Onstage train wrecks can be highly entertaining and provide great cocktail party conversation fodder. Plus, really good performers are often at their best when they’re speaking off-script to recover from a flub. But hoping-for-hilarious-failure aside, as audience members, why should we care whether we’re at a live event or listening to a recording in the comfort of our own homes?

 

concert

I’ve written about this before in this column, noting that the audience is a vital part of any live performance. Without an audience, no matter how beautifully they play and interact with each other, musicians are just rehearsing. But what the audience gets from being there in person is engagement—with the artists, with the music itself and most importantly, with each other.

There’s a guy in the front row nodding his head to the beat, matching our tapping feet. There’s a woman closing her eyes at our favorite part. There’s a smattering of claps for a tricky section and we join in, swelling the applause until the musician gives a little bow to acknowledge the love from the crowd. At a live performance, you’re not just a passive passenger along for the ride. You are a part of the show and your reactions matter. It can turn into a loop of awesomeness: your seatmates are having fun. The musicians see that, and they play even better. You see that, and then you have more fun. The people across the aisle see you having more fun, and then they…you get the picture.

I understand the desire to listen to a favorite piece of music in private, where you can sing along into the hairbrush or wave your spoon to conduct an invisible orchestra. I also understand the pull of wanting to be alone with the music: no cell phone calls during the oboe solo, no drunk guy standing in the way during the guitar riff, no crackly candy wrappers interrupting a favorite quiet bit.

A recording is the same every time you play it, and that has a certain beauty. But each live performance is unique—whether in variations in tempo, funny mistakes that become part of the show or your own engagement level with the other souls around you experiencing and appreciating the exact same thing you are. And I think that’s worth exploring whenever possible. Hope to see you at the pavilion this summer!

 

Upcoming events:

 Thank you to our sponsor:

 Barlet-Roofing

Posted on June 14, 2016
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By Ali Mignone, stage manager for Strings Music Festival

Although this stage manager’s point-of-view column only appears during the summer, Strings Music Festival is active year-round with a winter concert series and special shows for local schools in the spring. While it’s not the all-hands-on-deck, hold-onto-your-hats whirlwind schedule of the summer concert series, the off-season holds its own challenges—mainly in the form of managing snow removal and adventurous rodents and trying to keep the grand pianos from freaking out from weather changes.

One benefit of having shows year-round (beside continuing to be part of Steamboat’s lively music scene!) is that my prep work for the summer season isn’t nearly as time-consuming as it was the first year I joined the staff. It’s more like preparing for a seasonal rush than a total gear-up. I’m not one to do unnecessary work—you can say “lazy,” but I prefer “efficient”—so my off-season backstage routine is about maintaining order, systems and stock as I go, even if I’m only in the pavilion once a month.

This makes the beginning of June a lot more like “do I have what I need to support the musicians and crew for 10 weeks?” and a lot less like “what is that disgusting smell and where is it coming from?” or “how is it possible that this thing broke last year and I didn’t remember to get it fixed and now I need it for tomorrow?”

 

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The Strings crew installing the sound system for the summer!

Right now, we’re stocking up on things that go fast backstage, like bottled water, musician snacks, coffee, black gaff tape, Advil and Band-Aids. The pianos already had their annual maintenance treatments, and the crew added new speakers and projectors last month. Here are few of the other things I’m attending to backstage between now and our first show (Clint Black!) on June 23:

  • Organizing shelves
  • Wiping down the fridges, tossing elderly food
  • Adding shelving for instruments and coat hooks for musician belongings
  • Donating shirts, ties and coats left in the closet from last year (you’d be surprised at how many male musicians leave clothing behind, and at how few female musicians do…)
  • Fixing the funky door into the Green Room
  • Checking for dead mice, weird smells, sticky places

Yes, thank you, my life is very glamorous.

Meanwhile, the administrative staff is:

  • Finalizing housing and travel arrangements for visiting artists
  • Putting the finishing touches on the program and arranging printing and delivery
  • Selling tickets
  • Finishing up artist contracts (Read: chasing musicians who forgot to sign and return them. Can you blame them? Music is a lot more interesting than paperwork.)

Just a few short weeks before the fun begins! Hope to see you at the pavilion this summer—I’ll be the one dressed in black wondering where the time went.

 

Thank you to our corporate sponsors:
Barlet-Roofing

Posted on June 6, 2016
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