Well this was supposed to be a fun summer but here I’ve finally arrived at my two weeks of “vacation”, after closing the 6th show of the year. One of those shows is only 25 minutes and was written by 8 year olds but that’s a project nonetheless. I am now ready to sleep for two weeks until my next rehearsal.
But the year has been good to me. I could book out the next season for myself if I wanted to, I’ve added some wonderful and incredibly talented colleagues to my network. I can’t say I’ve been at 100% for everyone of my projects this year but I have tangible evidence of improving my piano/keyboard skills; I’ve written a handful of songs for my voice students; and I haven’t had to worry about paying bills this year.
Now I’ve worked in youth theatre, community theate, collegiate theatre, and professional (summerstock) theatre. What’s been most interesting to me—besides the very odd pay discrepencies—is the difference in atmosphere across the four of them. In two weeks, I’ll be returning to the Priscilla Beach Theatre to music direct “Always, Patsy Cline”. I’ll show up with the music learned, the actresses will show up with all their music learned (or mostly learned), we’ll rehearse for two weeks and then do a 9 show run. There’s no “if”, about whether or not the show is going to be finished. There’s a baseline quality of professional entertainment that is already guaranteed.
When you work with youth theatre, you have an 8-10 week rehearsal cycle. With experienced professionals directing, there still isn’t supposed to be an “if”—we work hard to make sure we give the students a plan they can accomplish—but the performance of the show is, in and of itself, the achievement. The fact that the show is put on, period, is the benchmark for success. Anything above that, excellence of performance in acting, singing, etc, is definitively extraordinary. There’s an incredible joy when a young cast is able to successfully open a show and feel good about it, it’s a certain kind of high that performance educators are always chasing.
Pro-theatre is a different kind of high. There’s not as much thrill in the act of getting the production finished because we all know that will happen…or else we’ll lose our jobs. The standard of excellence is less well-defined, so I often find it difficult to know when I’ve arrived. Even collegiate theatre, which is sort of a cross between the two, you’re hoping to get the quality of the show somewhere that’s hard to define. When everyone’s desperate to find that level of quality, it can be inspiring and exhausting. Students—under good educators—are endless sources of excitement for the subject; professionals (myself included) are pedantic perfectionists who often forget to have fun with their work…a rather important ingredient of the entertainment industry. There’s so much self-reflection and self-critique in every aspect of the job. I love this challenge, it keeps my brain very occupied at all times, but it is weird that it’s hard to have as much fun even when I have the best possible resources to make some incredible music. It’s part of the reason I bring pitpig to every show.
I’m turning 29 soon and I’m not sure how to feel about this. I’m very optimistic for my next year. I’m adding some incredible students to my studio roster and I have some fun shows lined up. I should have time and reason to write more. It’s just that, as I’m sure you reading this understand, every decision only leads to more choices.
For now, as is tradition, I will sit back and revel in how proud I am of my students. Spongebob is a dumb show that is far more complicated than it needs to be but it is also a fun show, and I got to see so many students step out of their shells and start to come into their own on this one. See y’all in a few weeks time.
“Be Our Hero”, melody and lyrics by a buncha 8 year olds.
“Bikini Bottom Day”, part 4, from The Spongebob Musical. Sung by mostly 10-13 year olds.