#and even when children's theatre productions are legitimately not good you should have some fucking sympathy

[cuntvonkrolock]

if you mock children's theatre i hate you 🫶

[maren-as-an-adult]

I Severely Underestimated the Lack of Time and Energy This Job Would Allow Me

So my plan of posting a weekly-ish update about this job severely backfired on me, because HOLY SHIT DO THEY KEEP US BUSY! This is legitimately a full-time job, we should all get a raise, but because the Man hates the Arts we probably won’t ever at all and counselors are people who do the most but get the least, goddammit. SO! The week started off where I was a scared beanpole of a girl super intimidated by all of the nearly 300 children that would be staying with us for the next 3 weeks. I had no idea how I would run my classes, I had no idea what I’d be doing for my show, I had no idea if I would make friends, and I had no idea if I’d be able to handle the six girls I’d be in charge of on my floor. 

Three weeks later, I was so emotionally compromised when they left and I realized I wouldn’t see them for another year... unless I don’t come back next year in which case I’ll probably never see them again. WHICH IS NOT WHAT I WANT TO HAVE HAPPEN!

Basically, here’s the breakdown:

CLASSES

I taught three dance classes: beginner jazz, intermediate ballet, and advanced modern. I only had four in my modern class, and I grew to love each of them so much. They were so receptive and willing to perform their best, and they all said they really admired me. Modern also was set to perform in the class showcase, and they were able to beautifully perform the choreography I gave them.... although I didn’t actually get to see their performance, the class showcase was on my day off, and on that day I went into the city for a date with The Boyfriend. That was a fun day, but back to camp for now. 

THE SHOW

The show I worked on was Stephen Sondheim’s Follies. And WOW was our director intense. We were flying through the show which was to be expected because we only had two and a half weeks to have it blocked, cued, choreographed, and memorized and even though I’m good at picking up and learning choreography, I was struggling myself to keep up. 

This was especially nerve wracking for me, as the cast would frequently come up to me and ask me for clarification on what we just learned. Because it’s not considered professional to say, “Sorry, dude, I know about as much as you do right now, so I guess you’re fucked,” I struggled to help them as best I could. 

I’d feel so useless, incompetent, and foolish when I couldn’t help them, and there were days I was definitely overwhelmed. I was also super lost on several of the group dances, because I’d been gone for a weekend up in Albany for my grandfather’s funeral which was a fucking blast there was a rainbow and everything. 

There was this one girl in my cast who was, in a bit of a word, super high-strung about everything. She wanted to be perfect in the show for all the wrong reasons (I won’t get into it much, but basically she felt she needed to be perfect to prove to other people outside of this particular production that she deserved better treatment from them) and was constantly oscillating between doubting herself (because even though she’s clearly talented, that knowledge isn’t enough when another cast member gets applause after her numbers in rehearsal and she doesn’t) and taking it upon herself to correct others and give them notes. She wasn’t a nightmare to work with, but I’m glad she’s not in the production I’m working on for Session 2 (she was one of the few stay-over kids we had who stay for two sessions instead of just one)

There were some great and memorable times during rehearsals, though. One of our leading men during dress rehearsal got a costume ring stuck on his finger and had to be taken to urgent care to get it cut off. Before that, though, I took him over to our nurses to see if we could get it off there. When lotion, an old ring cutter, an ice pack, and dental floss did not work, that’s when we put his fate into the hands of the professionals. 

There was also the time a rumor may have started that the director and I were sleeping together, which is hilarious because he and I both have boyfriends. 

THE GIRLS

So last session I was assigned a room of six girls to look after: wake them up, make sure they’re on the floor by curfew, make sure they’re in their rooms at 10:30, take away their phones for the night, and make sure their lights are out by 11pm. If they’re having problems or want to talk to someone, they should come to me. They were all between the ages of 14 and 16, which in my experience can make for some fairly catty attitudes. 

I did not realize how sad I would be when most of them left (one of my girls is a stay-over, yay!)

They all gave me huge hugs before they left, and asked if I would come back again next summer. I told them that unless Stagedoor decided not to re-hire me, there was no way I wasn’t coming back. 

They would open up to me, confide in me, and told me how much they loved me. 

I’m 99.99% certain it was all genuine and not just flattery so I’d be lenient with them. 

But I do miss them, and I hope I get to see them again. 

PRODUCTION WEEKEND

During this week, my birthday happened and I turned 24. My roommates decorated our door, I got a cake at lunch, was sung to twice, and received over a hundred “Happy Birthday” messages in various electronic form: Facebook, text, voicemail, Snapchat, etc. But the top three moments of the day were:

- A voicemail from The Boyfriend, officially being the first person to wish me a Happy Birthday

- A card from one of the director-choreographers, and head of the dance department (who has worked at Stagedoor for 25 years and everyone loves)

- A card from my family with a very generous gift cart to purchase show tickets (which I now have thanks to The Boyfriend!!!!)

But apart from that there was nothing particularly special about the day. My girls kept wishing me a Happy Birthday each time they saw me, though, so that was nice. 

One good thing about production week is you get real good at pin curling and iron curling hair. I had so many flashbacks to my high school theatre days when the crowds formed around a handful of curling irons all plugged into one communal power strip and a box of approximately 8,000 hairpins was constantly floating around. But at my high school, it was just one show with about 40 kids getting ready. Imagine almost 200 girls needing their hair pin-curled for wigs by counselors (because apparently none of them knew how to do it?) on a super strict schedule that didn’t give them much time, coupled with the fact that everyone needed to get makeup done and costumes on an hour before the shows opened. 

And on top of all this, there was some weird plague going around. Campers and counselors alike were dropping like flies and succumbing to this illness, and if it wasn’t that illness it was strep throat. The hectic and stressful environment coupled with the fact that parents were coming to visit had staff near the breaking point, and the only thing we wanted was 24 hours of quiet solitude. 

That was a little more than a pipe dream, though. 

I myself almost caught this mysterious flu-like death virus going around. Our music director for Follies caught it, and was struggling to stay alert and conscious during our dress rehearsal, our stage manager caught it and was promptly sent to bed to try and sleep it off. That night I remember a rather large headache and a weird pre-nausea feeling in my stomach, along with a general full-body ache, and I just remember thinking, “Please God don’t let me have this.” I made sure to go right to bed that night after our end-of-the-day meeting, and woke up feeling fine. I’d already gone through some pretty shitty allergy sickness at the start of the session, and I didn’t want to start and end session 1 sick. 

Thankfully, though, our music director and stage manager were back in action the next day for opening show, and the shows were flawless. I’ve never been so proud of a group before, because they did one of the most challenging things I could have imagined. 

But the day had to come where they packed up their stuff and drove home with their families. It was sad to see them go, especially after bonding so strongly with some of them. And there was no time to feel sad, really. As soon as a room was empty, counselors and cleaning staff would immediately start cleaning the rooms and prepping them for the next batch of kids to come in. 

And now they’re here. I have two rooms this session, and on night one of session two my first room (which has my stay-over girl in it) managed to break a bulb on a string of lights and get glass over the floor. My group leader had forewarned me that they could be rowdy and quite a handful, but I was hoping they’d give it a few days before breaking something. So I knew I had to do something to prevent excessive rowdiness ASAP. 

That night, after cleaning up the shards of glass/plastic, I gave them a quick speech about how busy it was for counselors: not only did we look after a room full of girls (and in my and other counselors’ cases, sometimes multiple rooms), but we also had classes to prep for and teach, and shows to either manage or choreograph. I asked them to help make the counselors’ jobs a little bit easier by being smart, conscientious, and mature. That seemed to get through to them, because thus far I haven’t had any trouble from them. 

And it’s now been a few days into session 2. I’m teaching intermediate tap, intermediate modern, and musical theatre. The class structures could not be more different for me this time. Musical theatre thus far doesn’t have a set class structure, what I’ve kind of cobbled together as a lesson plan has been: work on one piece for the showcase, and throw potential audition combinations at them to train them to pick up choreography quickly. Tap is basically a warm-up of basic moves, and then the rest of the class is spend working on moves they want to learn. Modern still holds some semblance of structure, though, but it’s my largest class and the students take up all the floor space, so it’s harder to really see everyone and make sure they’re getting the combinations I give them. 

I was super excited when I heard about the shows for this session, but the two that I really wanted to work on were choreographer shows, and didn’t require an assistant choreographer (A.C.’s only work on shows with director-choreographers). They were Evil Dead - The High School Version and Guys and Dolls. But I’m still excited about the show I’m working on: Me and My Girl. It’s kind of like My Fair Lady and Half A Sixpence. My director-choreographer is this really great lady who is super organized with everything, so with the way she has things planned and mapped out, we should have the show ready for full runs in less than two weeks. 

Today was my first day off for this session, and it was pretty amazing. I slept in, treated myself to some nice makeup, went out for pizza with my friend Anna, and got some counselor work done. Next week I get to see two of my favorite people in the world and a Broadway show (I’m seeing Kinky Boots starring Brendon Urie with The Boyfriend). I still need to figure how I’m getting to the bus station but that’s a problem for tomorrow or the next day. 

So, weekly updates won’t be a thing, but I can try to do session recaps. That’s what I’m aiming for at this point. 

And now, on to session 2!

[take-my-up-votes]

On theatre etiquette

I have never been so pissed off in my goddamned life So, last night I went to see Aladdin in Chicago. The show itself was phenomenal, beautiful sets and costumes, excellent choreography, all my favorite songs from the movie plus new ones that are just as good (and some even better). It was hilarious and heartfelt and the actors really put their all into it. Our Aladdin for the performance was the understudy, Manny Stark (and he was fantastic!!). Overall, an excellent experience. Then we get to the applause. And the people in front of me? They got up and left. Now, a couple of things here. For one, if they had actually seemed to need to leave, fine whatever. But I heard the man ask "are we staying for the applause?" (it was a couple), and the woman half-heartedly shrugged and nodded, so the man made a face and was like "c'mon." And they just. Walked out. Followed shortly by several other people who basically thought "oh, they're leaving, so it must be okay." How unbelievably fucking rude do you have to be? I was almost seeing red I was so unbelievably pissed off. Like seriously, I have never seen that? And I've been to a LOT of shows in Chicago. Look, I'm not gonna make a case for "the hardest job in the world" here, but if you go to a show understand that it is an incredibly taxing endeavor for everyone involved with production. Even outside the hours of planning and practicing that go into making sure everything work and is fantastic, these people are singing and dancing under lights so bright they're basically heat lamps, for hours in heavy costumes and makeup. It might look like it's all just fun and games but it's not easy. They put their hearts and souls into every practice and performance so that you have an enjoyable fucking time. The applause at the end is showing gratitude for their effort and giving them the fucking respect they deserve because I bet if your sorry ass tried that you'd be on the floor gasping by the end of the first fucking verse. If you didn't like the show? You still fucking stay for the applause because whether or not you liked it has no bearing on the time and effort that it took to put on that performance. You don't have to like it to be intelligent enough to respect it. Unless you received some message that your fucking mother is on her deathbed, there is no reason for the average person to leave early. You wanna beat the crowd? Then fucking stay home and let someone who actually fucking respects theatre go see the show. Like, I get it if you have a disability and legitimately need to get out early for fear of getting trapped there. Maybe if you brought a small child to the show and they're fussy/tired (please don't bring super small children to the show, though). Like I said, if there's some extenuating circumstance that you need to get to NOW, whatever. But if you just don't feel like standing there clapping? Fuck you. Yeah, the crowd getting out sucks (I would know, I have social anxiety). But I have enough respect to suck it up (and occasionally use some coping mechanisms) and stick around. "But why should I? They're already getting my money theatre is expensive blah blah blah" That money goes to everything from the venue to the pit. The applause at the end is specifically for the performers; for the actors and pit and stagehands who made that performance on that night work. The applause is the reason people go into live theatre; there are few things more incredible than taking that bow in front of a roomful of applauding people. If everyone just left during the applause? I couldn't even imagine how disheartening it would be. And like I said, when a handful of people leave, the surrounding people also think it's okay to not stick it out. For the love of god, stay for the applause. TL;DR Don't be an asshole, applaud stage actors at the end

[ismael37olson]

As Soft and as Pink as a Nursery -- 13 Really Sexist Musicals

In this moment in our cultural history, in which we're finally calling out expressions of sexism, racism, and other bias, it's worth looking closer at the shows we produce. Maybe the Era of Trump has made it necessary. A while back, I wrote a blog post about musicals that are much darker than most people think. Now we're having debates about problematic content in older musicals, and whether or not some older shows should be largely retired. Sometimes people tell me -- apologetically, but not really --that they don't really like "the new musicals." They like Rodgers & Hammerstein because they "just want escape." You know, like the "escape" of World War II in the Pacific, or the "escape" of watching the King of Siam lose his culture and then his life, or the "escape" of watching Jud Fry buy pornography from Ali Hakim, then try to murder Curly and Laurie, then die in a knife fight... Escape is awesome. Some people (usually white straight men) are enraged that anybody would suggest that Annie Get Your Gun should be retired for good. But it should. Times change. We are no longer the people, the culture, or the country we were in the early and mid 20th century. A great many of the shows written before 1960 (and some since then) are no longer relevant, and many of them are embarrassing or full-out offensive.

Here are some examples...

My Fair Lady -- This is a story about a narcissistic misogynist who keeps a young woman hostage in his home, using psychological torture, including sleep deprivation, to break her will and brainwash her, in order to make her socially acceptable and marriage-able to other men. Although, to be fair, the original poster laid out the show's sexism pretty clearly. At the end of the show, we debate whether the ambiguous ending means Eliza loves Henry or not. Let's hope not, for her sake! Why the fuck did she come back...? Sure, you could argue this is a near-masterpiece in many ways, and like some of Shakespeare's plays, it should be kept in the canon even though it's problematic. But you can't call Annie Get Your Gun anything remotely like a masterpiece. Annie Get Your Gun  -- Like My Fair Lady, this show is about the subjugation of strong women by insecure men. Ultimately, Annie can only win Frank's heart by letting him win fraudulently, so his tiny male ego isn't hurt. WTF? And what's with that toxic song, "The Girl That I Marry"?

The girl that I marry will have to be As soft and as pink as a nursery. The girl I call my own Will wear satins and laces and smell of cologne. Her nails will be polished and, in her hair She'll wear a gardenia, and I'll be there; 'Stead of flittin', I'll be sittin' Next to her and she'll purr like a kitten. A doll I can carry, the girl that I marry must be.

Seriously, "a doll I can carry"...??? She is literally an object to him, a toy. This is twelve years after Reno Sweeney had told us that "times have changed." Carousel -- This is a show about a serial womanizer and abuser, and petty repeat offender, who dies in the commission of a violent crime and leaves behind a wife with PTSD and a fucked-up daughter who tries to find validation in the arms of other men. Of course, these days, this is most infamous for this exchange between Billy's widow Julie and her daughter Louise:

Louise: I didn't make it up, Mother! There was a strange man here and he hit me -- hard -- I heard the sound of it -- but it didn't hurt, Mother! It didn't hurt at all -- it was jest as if he -- kissed my hand! Julie: Go into the house child. Louise: But is it possible, Mother, fer someone to hit you hard like that -- real loud and hard -- and not hurt at all. Julie: It is possible, dear, fer someone to hit you -- hit you hard -- and not hurt at all.

Anybody want their daughter to see that scene...?

Kiss Me, Kate -- Another show about the subjugation of strong women by insecure men. This story is literally about the "taming" of a woman. Animals are tamed, not people. The only way to make it work is by subverting the text, by suggesting through the staging, line delivery, etc., that Kate is "in on the joke." But even if you change the ending that way, it doesn't erase the abuse he has subjected her to, throughout the rest of the show. She's going to be happy with this guy?  No. Guys and Dolls -- Yet another show about the subjugation of strong women by insecure men. Adelaide is in a psychologically abusive relationship with Nathan. They've been engaged for fourteen years, in a time and place when women had to get married. There's no way he actually loves her. And Sky gives Sarah the 1950s equivalent of a date-rape drug. And notice in the song "Marry the Man Today," we discover Adelaide and Sarah don't really like a whole lot about their men. So why would they marry them? And Republicans want to return to the 1950s. No, No, Nanette -- Yet another show about the subjugation of strong women by insecure men. Surprisingly for 1925, one of the central plot lines is about how Nanette cannot enjoy independence without money, and all the money is controlled by men. It's an unusually honest and truthful comedy for 1925, though Nanette can't live Happily Ever After till she gets her man. Yawn. Camelot -- Not only is this another story of the subjugation of strong women by insecure men, but here, the woman's punishment is literally burning at the stake. She is to be killed for the crime of being sexually active and choosing for herself who she loves. The irony gets even uglier when you consider how much the serially adulterous JFK loved this show. And let's not forget that Guenevere is a truly fucked-up young woman who has been taught to be attracted to (and aroused by?) violence. The Sound of Music -- Here's one about a damaged young woman who falls for an angry, abusive, distant daddy figure, who has raised some monster children. Aw, isn't that sweet? What's that rule about workplace romances? Yeah, but the Alps are so pretty! Maria is never allowed to decide her own fate -- everybody tells us what to do, and then she does. And how about the treatment of the Baroness -- how did Georg's legitimate fiancee become the villain here...? It's not exactly the old "virgin vs. whore" scenario, but it's close...

Once Upon a Mattress -- This is a comedy entirely about how women have to be twice as good as men to get the same job. In the late 1950s! Tell Me on a Sunday (Act I of Song and Dance) -- This is a great show in a lot of ways, but it's about a woman who has learned to define herself only in terms of the men in her life. Yikes! We produced the show with New Line because as weak and fucked-up as this woman is, we did see a lot of truth in her, and ultimately, we think she will take control of her own life... Beauty and the Beast -- Sorry about this, Michelle, but this is a story about a young woman with Stockholm Syndrome, imprisoned by an insecure man... er, monster. It's creepy in a similar way to My Fair Lady. Why do we accept these stories? Why do women find them romantic? Miss Saigon -- Kim is a depressing, weak, Asian stereotype, who literally cannot talk about anything other than love, and who is helpless unless the White Savior can rescue her. But the White Savior has a White Wife, so the Asian woman is fucked. The Robber Bridegroom -- The story's hero Jamie Lockhart tells us repeatedly (most explicitly in the Act I finale) that he doesn't enjoy sex if it's consensual. Think about that. He only likes sex if it's rape.

I never was a courtin' kind of boy; Them flirtin' games ain't nothin' I enjoy. I hate a girl to give me goo-goo eyes; If she'd turn her back, I'd sneak attack, And get 'er by surprise! ‘Cause I like Love stolen from the cookie jar! I like love stolen on the sly! Oh yeah! I just love snitchin' what ain't meant for me; Oh the more forbid, The sweeter tastes the pie! A lot of girls are willin' to be had; The more I see, the more it makes me mad. You grab ‘em good; it doesn't faze 'em none. Well, that may be cool by the modern rule, But they're killin' all the fun!

You know, the "fun" of raping someone. How can anyone produce this show anymore? We did it in 2004, long before the #MeToo movement, and it was a difficult show even then -- which is the point. I'm told a recent local production essentially removed the rape from the story by making it all more playful and making Rosamund more obviously eager and compliant. That's fine I guess, but then it's a different show making a different point (if any) about different things. It's no longer about the intersection of violence and sex in American culture and in our American DNA. Yes, it's in our DNA. We can never forget that mid-century America was fine with Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, a freakish MGM romanticizing of abduction and rape; and also The Fantasticks, in which abduction and rape are ironic comic devices. So what do we do with this show? It's awfully hard to make a case right now for a comedy about rape. Women characters in many musicals are weak. That's partly because companies still produce a lot of really old musicals when our culture not only accepted that, but expected it. It's also because until the last decade or two, there were virtually no women writing musicals. And since lots of musicals center on a love story, it was almost always a love story from the male (fantasy?) point of view. When there were strong women characters, they were generally the secondary "comic" lead. Because after all, you can't take a strong woman seriously!

There were exceptions (almost always written by gay men) like Dolly Levi and Mame Dennis, but even they needed men before they could end their stories happily. Most disturbingly, since it opened in 1966, Mame is about a nonconformist who is repeatedly forced to conform. It's not an accident that a year later, the American theatre answered with Hair -- which admittedly, is awfully sexist in its own ways.

What's my point with all this? My point is not that we should abandon all the old shows. But I do believe we need to think more critically about work we're really familiar with. It took me a long time to realize what a dirtbag Harold Hill is, because I grew up watching him in one of my favorite movie musicals. It never occurred to me as a child to question any of it. And really, that's the genius of The Music Man, that Harold cons us (the audience) as successfully as he cons the River City-zians. We can be eassily seduced by our favorite musicals, by great songs, etc., and we have to be careful about that. In other words, just think about it. More than we have been. Long Live the Musical! Scott from The Bad Boy of Musical Theatre http://newlinetheatre.blogspot.com/2018/11/as-soft-and-as-pink-as-nursery-13.html