My cast's opening night for "A Christmas Carol" at Hale Centre Theatre was last night. It went well for the most part; a few struggles with getting my huge noggin into the tiny wigs made for hobbits and those humans with smaller brains than I, and some stress with some rogue props, but overall, very well. The events leading up to opening night... that's another story all together.
So Hale Theatre is what we call "theatre-in-the-round" or "center stage theatre." This means that the audience surrounds the stage on all sides. Please see figure #1A:
This makes dressing the stage for each scene a unique challenge, as there is no place for backdrops or large set pieces. Every thing on the stage has the potential to block the view of any audience member, so they are very creative in what they use to create different locations in the different scenes and how they use it. The circle part in the middle has five moving parts. Just outside the circle but still on the stage, they also have four "flaps" that, when shut, are flush with the rest of the floor. When opened, set dressing items, such as stone angel statues for a graveyard scene or topiaries for a garden scene, come up from under the stage. Keep in mind there have been a few serious accidents in the ten years they have been in this facility so the stage manager and crew are always very cautious and take safety very seriously.
So, I'm at dress rehearsal on Saturday morning, dressed in what I call my "cupcake" dress: a fitted bodice and a very large, full skirt in the style of the mid-1800s. We are all standing around a table center stage, toasting Ebenezer Scrooge. The lights go out and I start walking away to exit the stage: always gotta make a quick exit in blackouts. I was walking on the edge of the stage to avoid getting in the way of an exiting chair when I tripped...but my foot kept falling out from under me until my shin hit the floor. There was something very strange about this trip that my enormous brain (located in my giant head that is unable to fit in most wigs) couldn't process, and as I tried to get my balance and my other foot started falling I started to understand why. Now both my feet were falling and I somehow stopped myself by my elbows. Stopped on what, you say? The stage. Yes folks, I fell in a hole in the stage created by an open flap. At this point only my head and shoulders are above the stage, I am holding myself up with the brute strength of my elbows, most of my "cupcake" dress is billowed around my head, and I finally realize, "I just fell in the hole. I'm not hurt, but I cannot get out...I just fell in the hole!" I burst out laughing and yelled for help! Finally, they bring up the lights. Immediately 5 or 6 people rush around me asking me if I'm okay, as I continue my laughing maniacally in my shocked state, although none of them had the bright idea to do something about the situation, like, gosh I don't know, maybe help me out. Under the stage, a sweet stage hand with a horrified look on his face comes running over, grabbing my legs and pushing them up (don't get nervous, I was wearing tights and bloomers and boots underneath all that cupcake; there was no indecentness). I'm flapping my arms, asking for a hand through my laughing and finally a couple people put their hands out and help me out. It took a full 30 seconds to get me out and the first thing I thought of and said when I was back on the stage was, "Oh no! How's my dress?" Huge L-shaped rip, 18" across and 6" down. Well, for the next hour everyone and their dog was asking me if I was okay, really okay, are you sure? The total damage: bruises on each elbow, sore arm and pec muscles, and a massively ripped dress. All in all, it was pretty darn funny!
Well, opening night proved to be a big improvement. I did not fall in that hole, nor any hole for that matter and I even managed to stay firmly planted on my feet all night. Go team cupcake dress.
God bless us, everyone!
.
So Hale Theatre is what we call "theatre-in-the-round" or "center stage theatre." This means that the audience surrounds the stage on all sides. Please see figure #1A:
This makes dressing the stage for each scene a unique challenge, as there is no place for backdrops or large set pieces. Every thing on the stage has the potential to block the view of any audience member, so they are very creative in what they use to create different locations in the different scenes and how they use it. The circle part in the middle has five moving parts. Just outside the circle but still on the stage, they also have four "flaps" that, when shut, are flush with the rest of the floor. When opened, set dressing items, such as stone angel statues for a graveyard scene or topiaries for a garden scene, come up from under the stage. Keep in mind there have been a few serious accidents in the ten years they have been in this facility so the stage manager and crew are always very cautious and take safety very seriously.So, I'm at dress rehearsal on Saturday morning, dressed in what I call my "cupcake" dress: a fitted bodice and a very large, full skirt in the style of the mid-1800s. We are all standing around a table center stage, toasting Ebenezer Scrooge. The lights go out and I start walking away to exit the stage: always gotta make a quick exit in blackouts. I was walking on the edge of the stage to avoid getting in the way of an exiting chair when I tripped...but my foot kept falling out from under me until my shin hit the floor. There was something very strange about this trip that my enormous brain (located in my giant head that is unable to fit in most wigs) couldn't process, and as I tried to get my balance and my other foot started falling I started to understand why. Now both my feet were falling and I somehow stopped myself by my elbows. Stopped on what, you say? The stage. Yes folks, I fell in a hole in the stage created by an open flap. At this point only my head and shoulders are above the stage, I am holding myself up with the brute strength of my elbows, most of my "cupcake" dress is billowed around my head, and I finally realize, "I just fell in the hole. I'm not hurt, but I cannot get out...I just fell in the hole!" I burst out laughing and yelled for help! Finally, they bring up the lights. Immediately 5 or 6 people rush around me asking me if I'm okay, as I continue my laughing maniacally in my shocked state, although none of them had the bright idea to do something about the situation, like, gosh I don't know, maybe help me out. Under the stage, a sweet stage hand with a horrified look on his face comes running over, grabbing my legs and pushing them up (don't get nervous, I was wearing tights and bloomers and boots underneath all that cupcake; there was no indecentness). I'm flapping my arms, asking for a hand through my laughing and finally a couple people put their hands out and help me out. It took a full 30 seconds to get me out and the first thing I thought of and said when I was back on the stage was, "Oh no! How's my dress?" Huge L-shaped rip, 18" across and 6" down. Well, for the next hour everyone and their dog was asking me if I was okay, really okay, are you sure? The total damage: bruises on each elbow, sore arm and pec muscles, and a massively ripped dress. All in all, it was pretty darn funny!
Well, opening night proved to be a big improvement. I did not fall in that hole, nor any hole for that matter and I even managed to stay firmly planted on my feet all night. Go team cupcake dress.
God bless us, everyone!
.
2 comments:
OOOOOOO Heck, just file a huge lawsuit and call it a day!
I laughed! BIG! For some reason I find it REALLY funny when someone falls. Even when there are injuries, it is still super funny. Wish I could have seen it!
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