I need a vacation from my vacation (part trois)

Click here for part une
Click here for part deux

Week Three (July 30):
It’s Monday and I’m still churning out slutty choreography for Legally Blonde with a detour into High School Musical-land to tweak some student choreography.  With HSM opening in just three days, we simultaneously rehearse and start run-throughs so that the multiple casts can get at least one full dress rehearsal before the first Wednesday matinee. 

Though exhausted, we stay late tonight because Val has her first HSM orchestra rehearsal.  As the strains of faux, quasi-musical theatre pop echo through the empty theatre, I put finishing touches on the set and wonder why we didn’t choose a less strenuous career path, like marathon running or Olympic gymnastics.  Speaking of the Olympics, we ended up missing almost all of the coverage.  Oh well, there’s always 2016.

(July 31) Tuesday night is my first orchestra rehearsal for Legally Blonde.  I’ve barely had enough time to shower let alone study the conductor’s score, so I’m basically winging it.  Hopefully, I won’t come off as a complete moron in front of the mostly professional orchestra.  The rest of the Pineda clan stays late with me to continue their never-ending work on costumes, lights and sets all to the soothing tones of the "Bend and Snap." 

(Aug 1) Wednesday afternoon is the first performance of HSM.  With the theatre in use, I take the rest of the campers down the road to the Elk’s Club and continue rehearsing Legally Blonde.  Unfortunately, a huge chunk of the dancing ensemble is also in HSM.  With all the missing people, ensemble clean-up and detail work is pointless.  Instead, I spend most of the time choreographing the first act finale, which I’ve let go to the last minute in the hopes of being “divinely inspired.” No such luck.  Once again, I’ll just have to wing it since we open in three days.

A few hours later we’re back at the theatre where Val is politely kicking the stragglers from the HSM audience out of the lobby.  Thus begins our first dress rehearsal of Legally Blonde.  Everyone’s exhausted.  This is our fourth show to open in a week and the kids are wandering the stage like zombies.  With the addition of props and set pieces, the cast seems to have forgotten all their blocking. 

Undeterred, at 5:30 we push the student zombies out the door, order Chinese food and get the theatre ready for the evening performance of HSM.  I’m not really involved, so thankfully I can just veg out in the lobby during the show.  Mercifully, the junior version of HSM is much shorter than the full licensed version so we are able to get everyone out, lock up the theatre and get home just before midnight.  In the last two weeks, we have rarely spent less than 14 hours a day at the CDC.  Ah, the glamorous life!

(Aug 2) Seven hours later and we're back at the theatre.  Today is basically a repeat of yesterday's hellacious schedule except we stay late after the evening performance to change over to the Legally Blonde set.  What does “change over” consist of?  Oh, just repainting the HSM flats, side stages and benches, striking the un-needed HSM set pieces, hanging set pieces from the fly rail, re-setting the pit and cleaning and re-setting the dressing rooms with a new set of costumes.  Sound “fun” yet? 

For tonight's change over it’s all-hands-on-deck, including ma and pa Sieracki (Val’s parents) who are visiting from Florida.  Apparently, they’ve also been staying at Juan and Val’s house this week, though the only evidence of this has been the whiff of breakfast I smell on the way out the door in the morning as we head to camp.  We finally get a chance to catch up with them at the theatre over the roar of power tools and the smell of wet paint.  Sexy.  Tonight we skip the HSM closing night cast party because by the time we call it quits, the party has long since finished. 

(Aug 3) We drag our asses into the theatre early on Friday morning.  We are all running on just a couple hours of sleep and late night McDonald’s drive-thru.  We have one day to complete the change over we started the previous night as well as squeeze in two full dress run-throughs, one with full orchestra (the first and only time the cast will get to rehearse with the orchestra before we open tomorrow afternoon). 

With a cast full of mostly first-time summer conservatory students, the sense of anxiety and panic is palpable.  These kids are used to months of rehearsals at their high schools, not our three-week crash-and-burn schedule.  Juan and I lie through sincere smiles and assure the young cast that everything will be fine. Don’t get me wrong, by Sunday the show will be up and running like clockwork, but what happens at the first performance Saturday afternoon is anybody’s guess. 

Surprisingly, we are able to get through two full run-throughs without any major hiccups.  Some years, the first performance is the first time we actually run the show non-stop.  So we’re in great shape; though we still won’t know exactly how the show will sound since our bass player wasn’t able to make the final dress and our drummer wasn’t able to get to the rehearsal until halfway through the first act.  No matter, it’s still one of the smoothest final dress rehearsals we’ve had for a summer show. 

We don’t stay late tonight.  It's "fuck-it Friday" - if there’s a costume not quite right or a set piece unfinished at this point, that’s how it will stay for the run - fuck-it!

(Aug 4) We have a larger-than-usual audience for the first Saturday matinee, mainly because the show is so popular with the MTV crowd.  There are a few minor music cue problems and some ragged scene changes, but all-in-all, it’s a great first run and the audience is loving it.  Surprisingly, we get no audience backlash from the overt sexuality, language or gay references.  I guess between Jerseylicious and The Jersey Shore, some rump-shaking and cursing seems pretty de rigueur for north Jersey.

The positive buzz on facebook started at intermission so we anticipate a full house tonight.  I’m still not sold on the choreography for the first act finale - you know, the number I threw together literally two days ago.  But I’ll take a closer look at it tonight.  If you’ve worked with us before, you know not to get too comfortable with any blocking or choreography.  Juan and I are notorious for making full-scale changes even after a show’s opened (and sometimes even during intermission).  My infamous unfinished choreography of the last 32-bars of a dance number up until the half-hour call of the first performance has now become stuff of Pineda legend.

Because nearly every role is double cast, no two performances have the same exact set of leads.  I know that’s not the norm for high school productions, but it’s great experience for student actors and keeps them on their toes.  It also means the evening performance could still be a train wreck even if the afternoon runs smoothly.  With that in mind, we order take-out for dinner so we can stay at the theatre and prep for the evening show and new leads. 

Thank God for social networking and the internet because in just a few hours the good word has spread and tonight’s performance is sold out.  We actually end up turning people away at the door.  As excited cast members return from their dinner break, we give out acting notes and minor adjustments to blocking based on the afternoon performance. With a new slate of leads, we treat tonight's performance as a second "opening night" of sorts.

The new air conditioning is blasting, but the theatre still warms up thanks to a full house.  Again, except for some minor slip-ups, the show proceeds rather smoothly.  But I’m definitely still hating the first act finale.  I’ll have to go home and think about how I can correct that before tomorrow’s matinee.  We head home knowing the phones will be ringing off the hook with ticket requests.

(Aug 5)  The Sunday matinee is nearly sold out.  The kids are old pros by now and we know the show is in solid shape - except for my first act finale.  So at half hour I grab my dancer girls and completely re-choreograph the end of the act.  I'd been re-playing the moment in my head all morning and it finally dawned on me that as usual, I've over-choreographed it.  It's now time to simplify and streamline.  Behind the show curtain and with the sound of the audience filling the theatre, the girls nervously run-through the new steps which they'll perform full out, in context for the first time during the actual performance.  Yay, for live theatre! 

The closing night performance is standing room only.  Tonight is bittersweet for the kids.  They're stoked about their success but sad the summer's over.  I'm not.  By tomorrow I'll be back in the comfort of my cozy apartment, lounging in my underwear and catching up on a month's worth of DVR, blissfully content to be working only a paltry 9-hour day at the office.  But for now, I'm in the pit waving my arms like a fat, deranged, featherless turkey, trying to push the tempos in hopes of clipping at least a good  5 or 6 minutes from the performance.  Tonight after the final bows come all the speeches and flowers and I want to compensate for the inevitable lovefest to come.

Per usual, the closing night curtain call is followed by the cast singing our camp song.  As the opening refrain ends and the tempo changes, the kids from the other programs bum-rush the stage and join in.  And then as if on cue, the tears start rolling on stage.  The evening ends with heartfelt speeches, hugs and lots of flowers.  It's finally over.  Almost.

The kids are now hyped up on love and adrenaline.  They can't wait to get to the cast party.  With only thoughts of partying filling their teenaged minds, they leave a disgusting trail of used tissues, sweaty clothes and half eaten food in the dressing rooms for us to clean up - but not tonight.  Tonight we party. 

We arrive at the Sandoukis' household (our generous party hosts) just as a police cruiser pulls up - the true sign of a successful cast party.  A group of parents magically appear to greet law enforcement.  I'm too hungry to care and head straight to the hot buffet.

It's now well after midnight and I have to be at work bright and early the next day.  I can catch a nap at my computer.

Note to self: take the Monday after camp off next year.

'Cause I'm a blonde, yeah, yeah, yeah...

I just want to say that being chosen as this month's Miss August is

like a compliment I'll remember for as long as I can.

Right now I'm a freshman in my fourth year at UCLA but my goal is

to become a veterinarian cause I love children.

‘Cause I'm a blonde yeah, yeah, yeah,

‘Cause I'm a blonde yeah, yeah, yeah
- Julie Brown

Since this summer was all about the blonde, I decided to post these lyrics from one of my favorite movie musical guilty pleasures of the 80s, Earth Girls Are Easy, starring…wait for it…Geena Davis, Jeff Goldblum, Jim Carrey and Damon Wayans.  Pretty impressive, huh?  Well, they must all have been seriously hard up for cash or in deep doo-doo with their dealers to sign off on this script, because this movie is a big ol’ train wreck.  But what a beautiful, hilarious and tacky train wreck it is!  Check it out some night if you’re bored.  It’s extra entertaining if your drunk or otherwise “impaired.”    



Angie Sandoukas as Elle Woods in Pineda Conservatory's Legally Blonde

Anyway, back to the blonde at hand, Legally Blonde, which ended our 2012 summer conservatory season.  Last year’s jet-setting across Europe prevented me from choreographing during last summer’s session.  So I was a bit rusty when it came to the fancy footwork needed for LB’s contemporary pop score (not to mention carrying a good 15 pounds of extra jiggle around the middle).

I’m not exactly a hip-hop master, so I hit up some of my old dance cronies (aka youtube) to freshen up on how the young ‘ns are breaking it down these days. Seriously, you can learn anything from youtube.  Of course, since most of the dancing in Legally Blonde involves slutty, whore-ish sorority girls, a more appropriate course of action might have been to take a pole dancing class at Crunch.  But since our underage cast would likely be shaking their groove thangs in front of their horrified fathers, I decided to tone it down a notch - but just a tiny notch.

Imagine little old me teaching 15 year olds how to pelvic thrust, gyrate and open-thigh squat in rhythm.  Okay, I guess it’s really not that hard to imagine if you’ve known me for more than five minutes.  But it was still slightly uncomfortable teaching our sweet little 9^th grade girls how to get nasty.  We all gotta’ learn sometime.

More surprising (and encouraging) to me was how unfazed the kids were with all the gay references in the script.  It’s telling when two straight teenage boys have no problem with a gay kiss, but their parents do.  Maybe we are finally evolving as a species.  Or maybe not.  You decide based on these photos from Disney Dress-up Day at camp.

RyRy & Malika are Mickey & Mini

Marisa is a princess

Fausto's a fairy - no comments, please.

I need a vacation from my vacation (part deux)

Click here for part une

Week two (July 23):
The air conditioning is finally working.  Huzzah!  You’d think the kids would be jubilant.  Nope.  Now the kids complain that it’s too cold in the theatre.  Too cold?  Well then, bring a sweater, Mr. Whiny McChillypants. 

The week begins with more Legally Blonde slutty choreography, but I also get a chance to team-direct the big act two ensemble scenes with Juan.  I keep telling the kids to “act as they would in real life” but forget that they are only teenagers and “real life” consists of going to the mall and updating their facebook statuses.

During breaks from choreographing and directing, I start faux-finishing wooden flats to resemble brick that will eventually replicate the famous gates of Harvard University.  I don’t know why I’m so concerned with verisimilitude given the fact that even if the gates are an exact match, no one in our audience will know the difference.

The real Harvard Gate and...

...our imposter gate.

Lunch everyday is a frozen pre-packaged grilled chicken sandwich heated up in the microwave because we don’t have time to leave the theatre to get anything else.  I try to convince myself that I’m eating healthy, but the texture of the processed chicken patty makes me wonder what parts of the chicken I’m actually eating.

We (the Pinedas) stay at the theatre well after classes finish for our daily exercise routine - picking up discarded water bottles, nasty candy wrappers and crushed goldfish crackers off the floor.  Think of a teenager’s closet.  Now multiply that by 100 children.  Did I mention there’s no janitor?  Well, technically there’s a sweet, 90-year-old Italian guy named “Gus” who does a perfunctory sweep-and-mop a couple times a week.  I love him, but he’s not exactly Mr. Clean.

After our "workout" it's back to set construction and painting.  As the week progresses, we are constantly cutting set pieces from our build list as we decide they are not truly necessary.  In actuality, we’re usually just too tired or realize there is no way in hell we’ll finish everything in time.

Since the beginning of camp, the high schoolers have been rehearsing two shows simultaneously.  Their first show opens this week and they are noticeably anxious and slightly panicky.  We are constantly adding and changing blocking and choreography as we start run-throughs of the cabaret show.  I'm in the pit with Trish who's conducting, wearing hat number three, pit musician.

The mad summer show-opening marathon is about to begin.  It's Thursday night and after a full day of classes we open Let’s Go to the Movies.  All goes remarkably well considering the short rehearsal period and general inexperience of the cast.  There are no major train wrecks, just a few minor derailments - an occasional wide-eyed look of panic and a brain fart or two.  But we make it to curtain call without any broken bones and with the show clocking in at under two hours.  I’d call that a major success.

The next day we continue rehearsing Legally Blonde but also tweak some of last night's problem spots.  In true Pineda fashion, one of the "minor" tweaks includes re-choreographing an entire number. 

That same night, we present the new-ish and improved Let’s Go to the Movies 2.0.  After the final bows, we herd the audience out of theatre so we can tear down and start setting the stage for the next production, Disney’s Cinderella Kids (contractually, I'm required to spell out the whole damn title) which opens the next afternoon.  As Juan and team begin the arduous task of taking the backdrop down from the cabaret show, I’m frantically trying to finish painting an eight-foot tall carriage for Cinderella that will be onstage for approximately one minute.  After midnight, we head home, exhausted.

We’re at the theatre bright and early the next morning so Trish and Val can do last minute alterations to costumes and Juan can reset the mic plot from last night’s show.  I’m sitting on the dressing room floor painting a carriage wheel because I was too tired to finish it the night before.  Fingers crossed that it will be dry by show time.

The young cast arrives (grade 2-6) around noon for their two-show day.  The dressing room is soon filled with 9-year-old divas complaining about their hair and make-up.  I’m sure there’s a reality TV show in store for at least one or two of these girls’ futures.

We make it to the end of the day without any major mishaps, just a cameo appearance by me to drag off a forgotten set piece and the temporary misplacement of the pumpkin prop during the first show.  Luckily, a basketball from our third upcoming production, Disney’s High School Musical Jr., is handy and makes a fine understudy pumpkin.  The children are happy.  The parents are happy.  We’re tired.

We start striking the Cinderella set to make room for High School Musical which opens in three days.

Click here for part trois

I need a vacation from my vacation (part une)

Since getting back to my day job last week I've been bombarded with the same annoying question, "How did you enjoy your vacation?"  Of course, my vacation really isn’t a vacation at all.  It’s just me working somewhere else for three weeks.

Usually, I just explain that I take time off to work at a camp for teenagers that my family runs in New Jersey.  That usually puts an end to the conversation.  More often than not, the confused party skedaddles off pretty quickly with a polite smile and a confused, “Oh, that sounds fun.”

Technically, I am using my vacation time.  But working 10-hour days with a hundred kids in an enclosed space the size of a 7-Eleven isn’t exactly most people’s idea of “fun.”

After years of explaining, I can now easily identify that pleasant, feigned expression of interest on my co-workers' faces.  Nobody really wants to hear about my camp adventures. They want to know about how drunk I got on the beach or how beautiful the Eiffel Tower looks at sunset. 

So for all of you office drones who think working at a theatre camp sounds so “fun,” this is what goes on during my three weeks of "vacation."

Week One (July 16): 
Camp has already been in full swing for two weeks.  I join mid-stream, the week before our first show opens - Let’s Go To The Movies! - a cabaret/variety show written and compiled specifically for the kids who didn’t get cast in lead roles in Legally Blonde. 

I begin the painstaking and slightly creepy task of teaching slutty choreography to the teenage cast of Legally Blonde.  Between booty shakes and thrusting, Juan and Val give me the low-down on all the set and detail painting I’ll need to accomplish in the next few weeks for all four of our summer shows.  With zero budget for extra tech staff, I have gained the title of "Head Scenic Painter" for the summer in addition to my choreographic duties.

In another money-saving move, we have purposely chosen shows set in the present time to avoid renting costumes.  Instead, we send the children home to dig through their closets for usable items.  As a result, throughout the week children intermittently approach us wondering if the tiny kitchen dishrag they refer to as a "skirt" is an appropriate length for the stage.  When did teenagers start dressing like prostitutes?

The electricians are still installing our new air conditioning, so we are working in a cement box without ventilation and temperatures topping 90 degrees.  Sound fun yet?

Click here for part deux

Week from hell

This week's heinous work schedule has made me question whether the Pinedas are supremely ambitious artists or just plain stupid.  I'm actually leaning toward the latter, as would many who have worked with us in the past. Oh, the things you can learn from facebook.

Thankfully, NJ Transit now has a strict "no donkey" policy, making my long commute much more pleasurable.

Carousel rehearsals are in full swing with just a month until opening night.  We're also heavy into tech week of Little Women which opens at the performing arts high school this Thursday and we just finished callbacks and sent out notification letters for our summer production of Legally Blonde.  

 For any full-time theatre artist, working on three shows simultaneously would be considered an ambitious feat.  So what the hell am I doing committing to all these projects now that the theatre is just an elaborate "hobby" for me?

As a recently turned corporate zombie and slave to the 1%, I have sold my soul for the luxury of a regular paycheck and health insurance.  Can you blame me?  A decade's worth of dignity crushing auditions and the degradation of serving hors d'oeuvres to snooty NYC socialites between the occasional acting gig will do that to a person.  Ironically, now that I've "retired" from the business, I'm busier than ever with directing and choreographing gigs. 

Since last Friday, I've slept in my apartment twice.  Everyday this week I'll head to my 9-to-5 and then run to Port Authority for a Jersey-bound bus for a rehearsal, run-through or performance of some kind.  I'll then turn around for the lovely commute back to my wreck of an apartment in Queens - getting home after midnight - for a couple of hours of sleep and to throw my unopened mail onto an ever growing pile on the kitchen table.

Speaking of my kitchen table (left), did you know that fisherman chic is the latest trend in interior design?  Not.  Those are just some fishing nets I've tea-dyed on my stove and hung up to dry.  You guessed it, I'm also the scenic painter, set designer, and set dresser for Carousel. FYI two-liter soda bottles make dandy fishing buoys with just a little creative papier mache-ing and craft paint!

Did I also mention my parent's are visiting and staying in my apartment for a couple of days?

I know, I know - I still owe you all a Once review.  Well, you'll just have to keep waiting.

Bi-polar Show Disorder

Legally Blonde and Carousel - could there be two shows any more stylistically different?  Between ongoing Carousel rehearsals for CDC and Legally Blonde auditions for our summer program, I've been experiencing a serious case of choreographic whiplash.  In the span of just a few hours this weekend, I went from the booty-licious rump-shaking of hormonal co-eds, to the repressed sexuality of turn of the century New England lads and lasses.  And if you're not sure which description belongs to which show, then you probably ended up on my blog by some strange googling accident and should stop reading before you catch "the gay."

We've already sat through four audition days for Legally Blonde and the competition is getting crazy.  I haven't seen so much pink hoochiness-in-heels since my Senior Prom in '88.  I realize these young ladies are just trying to dress the part, but somehow they've gotten the idea that the character of Elle Woods is a slutty whore.  Yes, she's clearly not a virgin, but it's also made clear that she's monogamous as well as rich and trendy.  Many of the young ladies we've seen thus far seem to be auditioning for Pretty Woman - The Musical (Alan Menken or Stephen Flaherty, please jump on this idea).

Carousel is shaping up to be quite a wonderful show - if I ever finish choreographing it.  I'm actually on par with my usual mid-rehearsal slump.  I usually need the pressure of the clock to get my artistic juices jump started again.  Hopefully, we won't have a repeat of my infamous unfinished dance number from the last time I choreographed Carousel, where I completed the number at the half hour call prior to the opening night curtain.  Good times.