Putting Out Fires

Putting Out Fires
Thursday, April 12th

Tuesday, 4:15 AM, my alarm goes off. By 5:20 I’m in the rental car headed for my 8 AM call in Hartford. Fast forward 15 hours. I’m upstage with the local crew setting up for Camelot while the principal men do a small little in-one scene downstage. The scene involves a prop campfire that is rigged to emit “smoke”. As the piece comes off stage, Ken (the PSM and my boss) says, between cues: “Is that on fire?!?” Vera, our prop department head goes running through the wings with the campfire which is actually on fire. I respond to Ken: “We got it.” Vera dumps the flaming prop on the concrete floor of the loading dock and runs back to the stage to do her cues leaving me and the local pyro technician. The local drops to his knees and starts blowing on the flames. I dash back to the stage, grab the fire extinguisher that we keep in the wings and return to the loading dock. By now the local has realized that blowing on the fire isn’t helping, and he’s stomping on our prop. “Excuse me.” I say and I give the now smashed campfire a couple of shots from the fire extinguisher. “Gotta go!” I tell him as I dash back to the stage to continue teaching the local prop man his cues. The crushed, burned and coated in chemicals prop sits forlorn in the middle of the loading dock. The prop is totaled. It will take as much as two weeks for us to get a new one. On the other hand, no one was injured. The theatre didn’t burn down. The local Fire Marshall (who’s backstage to watch our pyro effects) didn’t even notice. (I should point out that no actual fire is involved in the proper operation of the prop. There was apparently an electrical short in the piece.)

Tuesday was that kind of night. The Black Knight’s right arm wouldn’t come off no matter how much King Arthur hacked at it, but his right leg came off early. Only three of the four self-abusing monks made it onstage. I watched Fran leading one of her local dressers through the wings: she turned to go into wing one and he kept on going to the dressing rooms. “This way! Hey! This way!” she said before just turning to make the change herself. “There can’t be enough wine at the opening night party.” Ken said near the end of Act II. The audience, however, was laughing, whistling along, and stood for the King’s bow.

Wednesday was 200 times better. I’m sure that tonight’s show will be the best one yet.

We’re playing the Bushnell here in Hartford. It’s another older theatre that’s had some renovations and additions. The main part of the building opened in 1930. The auditorium seats 2,900 people and is decorated in a weird art deco style. The stage house is just big enough to fit our show and the added upstage loading dock serves as a cross-over. The dressing rooms are stacked on the stage right side with our offices along with wardrobe and hair in the basement. Attached to the old building is a new, smaller stage with lots of brand new looking dressing rooms and support areas. Apparently, the local opera is booked in the new space next week, so we’re in the old portion of the building.

The Connecticut state capital is right across the street. Government buildings surround the theatre in a sort of campus, with the town part of Hartford across a park. The hotel is about ¾ of a mile away. It seems like a pleasant enough little downtown and there seems to be some historical stuff to do in town.

Sheila and Shannon are coming for the weekend! We’ll spend Monday in Boston – already looking forward to the chowder.

JV