B&B rant

I guess “mild frustration” would best describe my core emotional state during most of tech rehearsals for Beauty and the Beast, which I’m choreographing for South Plainfield High School. This tech week has been unlike any other I’ve ever experienced in my theatrical life - mainly because I didn’t have anything to do. Yes, I attended rehearsals everyday this week, but the technical aspect was so overwhelming that no actual “rehearsing” took place. Because of the overwhelming technical demands of the show, virtually no performance issues were addressed during tech week - not a single real acting note. I mean, there was the perfunctory, “find your light” or “can you play that more stage left”, but nothing specific about characterization or cleanliness of blocking.

I’m accustomed to the cast and directors sitting down together at the end of each rehearsal and going through their list of performance notes with the cast as a group, but that didn't happened. I had a pad full of notes, but didn’t have an opportunity to give them out. So last night, I finally decided to take initiative and give individual notes before the last run-through. Mistake. These kids were looking at me like I had three heads. Have they never gotten notes before? It was so weird. Our kids - the ones who work with us in the operas and in the summer - actually come up to us and ask us if we have notes for them. They think there’s something wrong if we don’t give them notes. Did this cast think they were perfect? I hope not. It was so weird.

I continued anyway, even though some of the cast (i.e. the leads - talk about big-fish-little-pond syndrome) were definitely giving off the “how-dare-you-give-me-performance-notes” vibe. These same “actors” would hang their heads in shame were they to witness the performances of our conservatory kids. I’ve never directed a group of people, kids included, that didn’t want suggestions as to how to improve their performance. I mean, we - the Pineda’s - continue to give notes and make changes through an entire run of a show. Okay, so we’re probably a bit extreme in the opposite direction, but come on, these kids had no note sessions the entire week before opening? That’s just not normal. Suffice it to say, I didn’t give out all my notes. It was just too much work and the kids didn’t really seem to care that I was trying to help them anyway. To be fair, that’s a bit of a generalization. A few - very few - students (mainly non-leads) were open to my notes and suggestions. But I was just so frustrated that I basically gave up. The last thing I need after a nine-hour work day is to be snubbed by a high school student who doesn’t think someone with a decade of professional theater experience and conservatory training can possibly give them any insight into their performance. That probably sounds harsh, but I don’t get paid enough to force these kids to listen to me. At least I have a personal relationship with our conservatory kids, so I’m willing to push a little harder.

I cannot wait until tomorrow when the show finally opens. Then I can get some of my weekends back, at least until Magic Flute rehearsals begin next week.

South Plainfield’s B&B curse - here’s the short list of “problems” that have plagued this production:

• Over 20 people dropped out since initial casting.
• We lost at least two weeks of rehearsal because the administration didn’t bother to tell the director she couldn’t use the auditorium during some fire alarm upgrades (not to mention a couple of snow days).
• The opening date was moved up one week to accommodate another event that needed use of the full stage.
• The set designer’s wife was mugged at knife point in the school parking lot during a rehearsal.
• The student playing Gaston was expelled (don’t ask) less than a week before opening and had to be replaced by a student who graduated two years ago.
• The nearly all student orchestra had basically no rehearsal, so tempos were painfully too slow and un-danceable.