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A Day in the Life of an Assistant Stage Manager

By Andrew Wojtek, Arden Professional Apprentice and Assistant Stage Manager for The Borrowers

As part of the Arden Professional Apprenticeship, each apprentice serves as the Assistant Stage Manager (ASM) for one of the productions in the season’s lineup. It just worked out this year that two apprentices had to double-up on one production because of the timing of Ghost-Writer and The Threepenny Opera opening so closely together. I was one of the lucky two APAs who were assigned to ASM The Borrowers.

Going into what the rest of the company likes to call “ASM Land” is very different from your day-to-day duties as an apprentice. While the production is in the rehearsal process, you pull rehearsal props, take notes, and help work through scenes. In tech rehearsals, we run sequences over and over again, re-set the stage, and learn what parts of the show we will eventually “crew” for every performance. But once the show opens, your life is tied to the performance schedule.

I thought it would be interesting to share with you a day in the life of the ASM. This not only gives you a glimpse into what happens to prepare for a performance, but what it’s like to work just one morning at the Arden.

6:50 am: Wake up; hit snooze button.

7:00 am: Wake up; get out of bed. Get ready for the day.

8:02 am: Leave the house, catch the 17 bus.

8:27 am: Arrive at the Arden.

8:28 am: Drop off bags, start a pot of coffee (the cast and crew all pitched in and bought coffee and fixings – it’s cheaper than buying it every morning), and eat a little breakfast.

8:45 am: Crew call – this is when the whole crew is “called” to the theatre to prepare for the student matinee performance. To get the show ready, I set my props, boil noodles for Crampfurl’s “worm” and make sure that everything I need for the show (like the giant screwdriver, the trap door, and pieces of “doll house” furniture) are all set to make their appearances.

9:35 am: The Haas is now open to patrons! All three crew members take turns swinging the pendulum that you see shadowed on stage.

Andrew operates the giant screwdriver!

10:07 am: Make my way to center stage to give the curtain speech. I finally have all the Arden’s media partners memorized!

10:08 am: The show is up and running. During the first act, you’ll find me backstage running my crew track: stomping my feet for shadows, changing the puppet’s costumes, handing off props, and operating the screwdriver.

10:47 am: First act is over, now it’s time to set the scene for the second act. My partner, Ashley, and I do the shift on the stage left side of the theatre. You’ll see us moving out the apartment and –if you look carefully– getting the boot prepped to go on stage.

11:02 am: Act Two has started and I’m back to work making more shadows, operating puppets, and paging the curtain on the Gypsy Caravan.

11:44 am: The show is over! As soon as the cast is finished with their curtain call, I bring the big spool of thread table on stage and answer questions that the audience has for the crew.

Noon: The crew goes about resetting the stage for act one as soon as the theatre empties out. As a part of ending the day, we do the laundry for the next show, reset the wigs, clean up props, and close down the backstage side of the theatre.

After the show, we jump back into our regular APA duties, doing Facilities Maintenance (FacMan), processing gifts in Development, prepping bins for Arden Drama School, and so much more.

If you have any questions about what happens backstage to prepare for The Borrowers, I hope that you won’t be too shy to ask. Email askarrietty@ardentheatre.org and we’ll be back in touch. And I feel obligated to end this blog entry the same way I end my curtain speech… “Remember that The Borrowers is here on stage at the Arden through January 30^th, so if you like what you see, tell your friends and family!”

Connecting Research and Practice: Arden Apprentice Attends ASTR Conference in Seattle

By Tara Demmy, Arden Professional Apprentice

The American Society for Theatre Research (ASTR) is a U.S.-based professional organization that fosters scholarship on worldwide theatre and performance, both historical and contemporary. It had its annual conference Seattle this year (Nov 18-21), and I attended representing Arden Theatre Company.

My undergraduate senior thesis was accepted into the working group: “Bodies at Play” which explored the performative dimensions of “bodies at play,” which were defined as physical and / or imaginary “corporeal scenarios” where the mind and body engage in “play”. There were papers that analyzed the play involved with Live Action Role Play, Stunt Running, and dressing as Superheroes for comic book conventions. One paper explored the process our bodies go through when smell is incorporated into theatrical performances, arguing that it make us more present and more connected to the “liveness” of performance.

My paper was titled “American Bouffon: Historical Deconstruction and Experimental Performance.” It explored the differentiated bodies of Jacques Lecoq’s bouffon and what needs to change about this French satirical style in order to effectively perform it in the United States.

We ended the working group by discussing how we “play” in our everyday lives and why this concept of play (which translates into freeing yourself artistically and taking risks) is so important for the American theatre. I really learned that by understanding performance as it occurs in our everyday lives, we will be better able to connect to the type of art that is presented on the stage.

I came to this conference from a totally different point of view, being a part of a regional theatre instead of a university (most who attend ASTR are either PhD students or college professors). I talked with many participants at the conference who praised the Arden’s work and said that they wished they had worked in a theatre before pursuing graduate education because practice enriches research (especially in the theatre). Research is super important, but if that research is not applied to the actual theatre produced, then it is not used to its full potential. The APA program is an amazing practice- based program for understanding all that goes into running a successful theatre company and this conference was a brilliant example of how I was able to utilize the new perspective and experiences I have gained from the APA program.

In reflecting, I am so glad I attended this conference. It gave me new ideas on how to organize research and the many topics that theatre research can cover. I attended sessions on multi-cultural theatre, feminist theatre, and research strategies. I received advice from many well-known scholars who were eager to share their professional journeys with someone who just graduated college. I was proud to have Arden Theatre Company on my name tag and was able to speak of our season with some Philadelphia local professors. I hope to return to Seattle and see more theatre on the west coast; it’s a whole new exciting theatre community to explore!

Arden Professional Apprentices—On the Fringe

By Bobby Bangert, Development Assistant and APA Class 16

At the Arden, nothing heralds the beginning of another season like the arrival of the new class of Arden Professional Apprentices. As a proud member of APA Class 16 (2008-09), seeing the new crop of apprentices (Class 18!) start on Monday brought back lots of memories, but it also reminded me of the tremendous affect this program has, not only on the individual apprentices it produces, but on our entire community.

The Arden has truly outstanding education programs, including our apprentice program. It is completely unique in that its participants work in every aspect of the company, and after ten months they can work in every department with proficiency in a variety of tasks. It is appropriate that the beginning of each new apprentice class coincides with the Live Arts and Philly Fringe, a time when our city is literally bursting with theatre in every possible space. Former apprentices are now theatre professionals working in Philadelphia and all over the country applying the skills they learned at the Arden to create, produce, market, and manage their own shows, and at no time is that more apparent than during Fringe time.

The list of former APAs producing in the Fringe is impressive, and below is a sampling of the former APAs whose work you can see in the festival this year:

Cecily and Gwendolyn’s Fantastical Paranormal and Quantum Entanglement is being produced by the Philadelphia Joke Initiative, which is headed by Class 15’s Alexis Simpson. Alexis is also featured in The Real Housewives of Philadelphia’s Main Line-O-Mania.

Fugue State stars Class 17’s Meredith Sonnen.

APA Class 16 at the opening of SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH GEORGE.

How to Solve a Bear is directed by Class 13’s Meg Walsh, and stars Class 15’s Scott Sheppard.

Kid Out of Nowhere is a new play, and the inaugural production of the newly formed Act Normal Theatre Company, which is directed by yours truly, Class 16’s Bobby Bangert, starring fellow Class 16 alums Hillary Rea and Richard Sonne, as well as the costumes of Class 16’s Katherine Fritz.

Thomas Choinacky (Class 15) is busy performing in two shows, Marisol, and Portmanteau, which he co-created.

In addition to producing for the Fringe, former APAs are working with more established companies with Live Arts shows. Mark Kennedy of Class 17 is the Sound Operator for Pig Iron’s Live Arts show, Cankerblossom. New Paradise Laboratories’ Freedom Club stars Class 5’s McKenna Kerrigan, and is Assistant Stage Managed by Class 16’s Katherine Fritz.

While we’re out getting ready for the Fringe to begin this weekend, Class 18 is just getting oriented. The next time you’re at the Arden, keep an eye out for the apprentices (they will probably be Assistant Stage Managing the show you’re seeing, printing your tickets in the box office, or cleaning the lobby you’re standing in). Right now they’re learning the ropes here, but this time next year I can’t wait to see what Class 18 will be doing out there in the community.

Falling Into Place

Arden Professional Apprentice Class 17 completes our 2009-2010 season with our APA Showcase Falling Into Place, featuring five short plays by Christopher Durang, David Ives, Shel Silverstein, and Sean Michael Welch, directed by Steve Pacek, our Mouse in If You Give A Mouse A Cookie. The APA Showcase serves as the culminating project of a year-long professional training program and provides a unique opportunity for us apprentices to put our varied skills into practice and to the test.

Unexpected surprise parties. Unusual interventions. Sordid love affairs. Maddening alternate universes. Everybody has to be someplace!

An evening hell-bent on slapstick insanity, Falling Into Place features the APAs falling in and out of ridiculous predicaments to finally chucking all sense out the window and celebrating the madness of theatre and life and everything in between.

Check out our video promo giving you a taste of APA life, set to the song we all can’t get out of our heads, the Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling (Tonight’s Gonna Be A Good Night)”!

To reserve your seats call the Arden Box Office at 215.922.1122

Finishing the Hat

by Mark Kennedy, Arden Professional Apprentices

Every day, except for Mondays, I hum the song “Finishing the Hat” from Sunday in the Park with George in the Arcadia green room while I sew in a fake hair piece to the Mouse’s hat. Later onstage he will cut it all up and after the show I will take out the hair piece, spot clean the hat, and let it dry so I can sew in a new piece the next day. It is one of the many little tasks I complete daily (and in many cases, twice a day) to keep If You Give A Mouse A Cookie running.

I have many tasks like this that involve constant upkeep; I am definitely never really finishing anything. I put every prop in its proper place only to be brought out and thrown around each day and I spend about an hour and fifteen minutes cleaning up each mess. I have to be painstakingly careful cleaning up each and every time because I have to be sure to clean up all the rice flour that the Mouse pours onstage at a particularly delightful moment in Act I. The rice flour gets into the cracks on the floor, into the tiny ledges in you are my sunshine the cabinets, even into corners backstage. I have to be sure to get rid of it all because if any rice is left out it will attract real pests like ants and moths. If it’s left out with water under the stage lights it will actually bake into unleavened bread. We definitely do not want our own version of If You Give A Bug A Biscuit.

As I write this we’ve done 45 shows and you can imagine after five weeks of constant cleaning I might be feeling a little weary of the tedium. But it’s funny, I’ve been less weary than I thought I’d be.

I find a lot of little things that keep me happy. The Mouse draws a picture of a large sun and a house as he sings “You Are My Sunshine” each show, and I’ve hung up each picture backstage as a visual representation of the number of times we’ve told this story. 45 so far. Only 53 to go! life is good

On the inside of the Mouse’s hat is a little inscription that reads “Do what you like. Like what you do.” I like to think our costumer Richard St. Clair chose the hats not only because our Mouse is ever the optimist, but that the hat’s message would provide me a daily reminder of just how lucky I am to be here, working, doing what I like. So I choose to think that way, and marvel at my luck to be doing it.

On the front of the hat is another inscription: “Life is good.”

Seurat Painting Comes to Life

For First Friday on June 4, we staged a living version of Georges Seurat’s painting Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte right on Filbert Street! A group of volunteers, under the direction of Arden Professional Apprentice Brittany Howard, wore modern clothes and struck the poses from the iconic Seurat painting that inspired Stephen Sondheim to write Sunday in the Park with George, currently on stage at the Arden.

Here are some pictures of the process, the result and all the people that stopped to watch the painting!

After the living painting was complete, we had our final Young Friends event of the season! Young professionals and tableau participants gathered for a pre-show party sponsored by Triumph Brewing Company. Then, everyone watched Sunday in the Park with George on the Arden’s stage!

Here are some pictures from our Young Friends party!

A Backwards Cabaret: The Songs You’ll Never Sing, The Parts You’ll Never Play

By Meredith Sonnen, Arden Professional Apprentice

The first play I ever remember seeing was The Mikado by Gilbert and Sullivan. I proceeded to name our next dog Katisha after a character. I lived in small rural towns in Tennessee and Georgia growing up and there was a a severe lack of theatre in the area. What I did see was whatever the local colleges were putting on. That was nearly always a musical. Musicals were my first theatrical love. We rented and watched the double VHS of The Sound of Music from the local library so many times that we wore it out. I knew every word to that musical by heart. Next was My Fair Lady. Later, I listened to my mom’s old records. Jesus Christ Superstar, Fiddler on the Roof and others could be heard blaring from our house at any hour, normally with my little voice piping along into a hairbrush or cooking spoon.

Musicals got me interested in theatre. I don’t do them anymore for the most part. I have become a straight play actor and director somehow, but I still love them. My tastes have grown. I have a huge crush on all things Jason Robert Brown (The Last 5 Years, Parade, Songs for A New World). I could listen to Ragtime on repeat all day and never grow tired of it. The harmonies in A New Brain blow my mind every time I listen to Heart and Music.

I don’t just listen though. I sing. I sing when I clean, when I cook, when I walk to work. I am not Barbara Streisand but I am not bad either. I have dreams of getting back into musical theatre. Sadly, there are dream roles like Millie in Thoroughly Modern Millie and Sarah in Ragtime that I can never be cast in for a variety of reasons. For example, I can’t tap dance. Which is pretty crucial. That doesn’t stop me from singing or dreaming though.

While talking to actors throughout my life we’ve all had a dream role that we aren’t qualified for. Well, the Apprentices this year decided to do something about it.

This Monday , May 10^th, at Triumph Brewery from 6-9 we are hosting a Backwards Cabaret. The “Songs you’ll never sing, the parts you’ll never play” is the theme.

So if you want to see Scott Greer, Maureen Torsney-Weir, Brian Cowden, Liz Filios and many other area actors sing the songs they never thought they could, come join us!

There is a $5 cover and all proceeds go to support our showcase (June 20^th and 21^st at the Arden). So come on down to Triumph at 117 Chestnut Street and get a great show for just $5!

Drinking Tea at the Precipice

By Mark Kennedy, Arden Professional Apprentice

Whit MacLaughlin, director of If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, used a metaphor I loved one day in rehearsal as he was working with Steve Pacek, our Mouse, on the physicality of his character.

He described leaning out over the edge of a cliff, and how in that position, your body is one hundred percent ready for anything. He said that an actor, especially in physical comedy, always has to be in that state of high-octane readiness, but also has to translate that kind of energy into simple, every-day motions, like drinking tea.

As Mouse Cookie‘s ASM, or assistant stage manager, I’ve latched onto the idea of drinking tea at the precipice. My main responsibility is tracking all the props used in our Mousey mayhem. At any moment during the rehearsal process Stephanie Cook, my stage manager, could ask me to run down to our props master Meredith McEwen to ask questions about a prop or come up with a substitute prop for rehearsal. I’ve helped transform the rehearsal hall into a green screen studio for Jorge Cousineau, our video and sound designer, to film footage.

I’ve also had to be ready to reset the stage as we go back and work moments again and again (in one rehearsal we worked one sequence 78 times in a row!), refining the light and sound cues, the way the actors interact with the set, the props, and each other. That could mean putting a mop backstage in the place where it’s easiest for Davey Raphaely, our Boy, to grab. Or it could mean taking ten minutes to clean up rice flour, stuffed animals, streamers of tape, and hula hoops, among many other things.

As an apprentice, for me cleaning is now second nature. Those of you applying to the program for next year, take note: a lot of the time you are just shoes like the Boy, fighting with the physics of mops and trash bags and cleaning products. But, much like drinking tea, although these tasks and skills are simple, you are asked to do them consistently at the precipice.

And what does it all add up to? An hour of absolute chaos and certain hilarity. I have never laughed more, nor watched with more admiration as Steve, Davey, Whit, Stephanie, Meredith, Jorge, and everyone else work to make this Mouse as effortlessly joyful as possible.

Tragic Humor

By Brittany Howard, Arden Professional Apprentice

Romeo and Juliet is nearing its end (the real end, not the kind where you take a sleeping potion so that people think it’s the end even though it’s not).

We’ve had over 40 performances, countless hours of rehearsal, and several classes and workshops. I find myself continuously amazed with the stamina of this cast. They portray one of the most iconic tragedies every night on the Haas Stage, only to wake up, live the grief, endure the pain, and die all over again.

How do they do it and still maintain their sanity? Do they still maintain their sanity?

I can’t really speak for the actors, but I can tell you what I’ve observed sitting backstage watching them in the quiet seconds before they enter and the intense moments after they exit. In my opinion, it’s humor that keeps this cast afloat.

It starts with fight call—where fights done at half speed give them plenty of time to slip in jokes. Then before the performance begins, I listen to Scott Greer (Lord Capulet), Tony Lawton (Friar Lawrence) and others invent their own versions of my curtain speech. You don’t know it sitting out there in the audience, but the curtain speech actually happens many times every day before you see it—occasionally as Abraham Lincoln or Joan of Arc, maybe Scooby Doo, and sometimes Ghandi. Brian Anthony Wilson (the Prince) has a knack for ridiculous nicknames. During intermission, Shawn Fagan (Mercutio) resorts to carrying things around with his teeth since his hands are covered in fake blood. Speaking of covered, or lack of cover, actually—the dressing rooms have been officially deemed unsafe territory for showering after one cast member hid another cast members clothes. It’s always entertaining to watch James Ijames (Benvolio) and Krista Apple (Balthasar/ Lady Montague) dancing in the hallway before they have to enter and find Romeo’s body. And when the play ends and they return to the dressing rooms, they all have tears on their faces and laughter pouring from their mouths.

How else could they get through a show that has them using 4 to 5 boxes of tissues a week? I don’t want to be cruel and make y’all do math, but a six week run plus the rehearsal period makes that a lot of tissues.

Humor is how we all make it through the bad days- whether they are real or just something you play on stage nightly. It’s what gets me through the hectic apprentice schedule, and I’m positive the same goes for the rest of my apprentice class. There’s nothing to do at the end of a fourteen-hour-day, but laugh your cares away. And at least when my long day is over, I don’t have to live it again the next day, and the next, and even the next.

It reminds me of something I had on the wall of my room growing up. I was too smart for my own good, and when other kids were putting up posters of their favorite movies and playing with dolls—I was putting inspirational quotes up on my wall (blame my English-teaching mother). For instance, by the mirror it said, “When life gives you ruled paper, write the other way.” The closet door read, “One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar.” But I’m reminded now of a slip of paper I tacked to the wall on the other side of the room, across from my bed. It was the paper I looked at when I woke up from a bad dream or when I couldn’t fall asleep at night.

It said, “Laughter sweeps away the cobwebs of the soul.”

Sometimes it takes a Shakespearean tragedy to remind you of what you knew to be true a long time ago.

Of Teachers and Tragedies

By Brittany Howard, Arden Professional Apprentice

I come from a family of teachers. Literally, sisters, parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents—they are all teachers. So, growing up, I was determined that I would be something completely different. Even though I always had a knack for working with kids, I pushed that away, put on a stubborn face, and said, “I’ll never be a teacher.”

In the past months, the Arden has taught me many things (including how to remove fake blood from just about anything), but there is one lesson for which I have the most gratitude. I now know and respect why all my relatives have devoted themselves to education. There is a unique kind of gratification that comes when you get to be a part of bringing a great play to a theatre full of students (even if it is at 9:30 in the morning).

They live and die with these characters, experience every emotion, ponder every confusion, and deal with every anguish. I get goose bumps when they gasp at Mercutio’s death, or when they cry out, “No!” as Romeo drinks the poison. I’ll never forget the day that a theatre full of children chanted, “Peter! Peter!” as Peter Pan fought Captain Hook.

These students all know how these stories end. They know that Romeo and Juliet don’t live happily ever after. And yet—they allow their imaginations to be captured, and they fall in love just as the characters do. And when every wall and foundation begins to crumble—they too try to hold the cracks together.

Children see hope where adults see inevitability. They see romance, where others see tragedy. They see boy meets girl, and despite the fact that many students have already experienced the harsh realities of this world, they still see the possibility of a happily ever after. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of that? Why wouldn’t you want to remember a time before you’d heard “That’s Life” so many times that you started believing it?

Teachers do their best to show their students a world of possibilities, and the truly great ones open the gates even wider.

I was lucky this past week to be able to accompany Evan Jonigkeit (Romeo) to the Camden Creative Arts High School for a small class with their acting students. The theatre classroom was a tiny space that was shared with a dance class (only separated by a dividing wall that did little to block out the music from the other room). And I at once felt jealous and pitied these students. I grew up in the middle of nowhere and went to a tiny school, but I at least had a full stage. However, these students were learning things about theatre and being challenged in ways that I didn’t experience until college. I was amazed that this tiny school still managed to create so many opportunities for their students.

So I’m thankful for teachers, my full family included. I’m grateful for every educator that works to give their students a better chance at success. And the Arden is indebted to all of you who donate to the Arden for All program, which allows us to go out and teach in Philadelphia and Camden and brings over 5, 000 students through our doors free of charge.

And I’m gratified that every time I start to stress about how I’m going to make ends meet—a student matinee arrives to remind me that just because you’re told a story goes a certain way, that doesn’t mean you have to sit in your seat and wait for the expected ending.