Scenes from the Donut Shop

The first thing I have to tell you about Superior Donuts is that the cast is an absolute dream; hard-working, talented, fun, nice, with no egos.  In fact, this entire process has been a dream.  From the director, to the design team, to the Arden staff, it's just been so much fun to work on.

Even during tech, which can get tense and tedious at times, we all (cast, crew, design team) sat around and sang each other's praises.  I can't speak enough about the talent of the design team:  not only are their credentials amazing, their work as evidenced by this show is off the charts.  It's one of those show where you look forward to come to work. 

I'm not saying none of my other shows were like that but this one is especially like that; it's Superior.

The play itself has been well-received and it should, it's really well written.  In case you don't know the story here's a brief snippet:

Arthur owns a donut shop in the run-down neighborhood of Uptown in Chicago.  An aging hippy, he does not engage in anything and avoids people for the most part.  His assistant quits and Arthur hires Franco, a young black kid in the neighborhood full of dreams and possibilities.  Well, you can imagine what happens: Arthur begins to care about Franco but Franco gets in trouble because he is in debt. Arthur finally has to engage in his community.  Sounds like a bit of a downer but it's really very funny and lovely.

Working with Ed Sobel, who was the dramaturg on the original and Broadway production, we learned a few fun facts about the script.  I think my favorite is that Arthur is named after Boo Radley in Too Kill a Mockingbird.  Max, a character in Superior Donuts, says of Arthur "He does not want to be pulled into the light, so I do not pull."  I love those little insights, it just makes the process so much fun.

I'll end this post of praise with a video from my production.  I may only be doing one show this year at the Arden but I really feel like I hit the jackpot!

Spike Tape and Sitters and Prep Week, Oh My!

Yesterday, I began my prep week for History Boys which will start of the 2009/2010 season at The Arden. It was great to be back in the building even with all the changes that had taken place over the summer; 5 people had left to pursue other career options.

This is also the week that I panic a bit:

• Did I line up sitters? Probably


• Will the kids have enough to eat? It's not like I'll be in Siberia


• Did I contact everyone about the first rehearsal? So far, so good


• Will I be able to handle rehearsals, kids, and continue to run? Doubtful


• Did I tape the stage correctly? This one is a 3/4 thrust so it's pretty easy (no stairs or weird angles)


• Will I like the cast?

That last one can make or break a show. I don't have to be best friends with the actors. In fact, it's rather difficult since they all take breaks together while I have to work and I'm pretty removed them, especially during tech when they spend more time with the Assistant Stage Manager. But, it makes the 2 1/2 months go by so much smoother if we all get along.

I have worked with actors that I did not like and it's just dreadful. One time, not at the Arden, I worked on a touring show (it toured locally to schools) with just 3 other people. No one liked this one actor and the days just seemed to never end. I bet we all have stories about working with people we just couldn't get along with. My problem is when I find out that this person (that I don't like) has friends because I don't believe it. Really, someone likes him/her? I know, not very nice of me.

This is a cast of mostly young men (early 20's for the most part) and only one other woman. I don't know what it is but it's the second show I've done with mostly guys. I just hope it's a cast I can have a beer with, you know? It's also another show that's going to run about 2 1/2 to 3 hours. I swear the Arden picks a show, realizes it's going to be a long one and then calls me to see if I want to Stage Manage it.

But I am excited for History Boys. I read the script a couple of times and I don't think I really get it so rehearsal will be as much as a learning experience for me as it is a time to figure out where the props go. I keep you updated.

What a Long Strange Tech it Was

For the past two weeks, I feel as if I have done nothing but live, eat, and breath Candide. It truly is one of the most grueling productions I have worked on. Terry Nolen, the Artistic Director of the Arden and the director of the production has said that this is the hardest of all possible musicals. And on top of it, we're doing it in the round and with chalk.

Yes, chalk...the actors write all over the set with chalk which means cleaning up the chalk. So the actors also mop up the stage. Much of tech week was spent working out what type of mops we should use and how damp the mops should be. I now know more about mops than I ever thought I wanted to.

But tech week wasn't just about mops, we also had to add in the fly cues, the sound cues, the costumes, the props and the light cues--all 400 of of them. It was a slow and tedious process but it had to be that way to ensure not only artistry but safety as well.

During the week of tech, actors are allowed to rehearse for 10 hours out of 12 on three consecutive days. This is in accordance with Actor's Equity Association (the union for stage actors and stage managers). Those three days spent in the darkened room of the theater can make one a bit loopy. I forgot what day it was and couldn't remember if I lived at the Arden and visited my home or if I was visiting the Arden.

The hours spent paid off though and the production is amazing. The team of designers, directors, orchestra members, cast and crew deserve a standing ovation for the feat they have pulled off while keeping their tempers under control. I don't even have any stories about people losing it and screaming.

At the opening last night, we said good-bye to many of the designers and directors who are off to other projects. We've left them at this station but the rest of us, the cast, orchestra, crew and I are going to chug on toward closing.

Last Night for Cocktails

Thursday nights are cocktail nights for Brian and I. We wait until the kids have gone to bed and then he makes martinis - well a martini for him, a cosmo for me. He makes the best cosmos with a squeeze of lemon instead of lime. Watch out though--they are strong! We either sit around and chat or watch our latest Netflix DVD (usually The Wire or Entourage). Lots of people, I've found out, like a cocktail or a glass of wine on Thursday nights. It's like we're part of one big cocktail party.

Last night's cocktail night though, was our last for a while. The rehearsal room has been prepped--I taped the stage (with help) and it looks pretty good, if a bit bright (they like neon colored spike tape at the Arden)--actors have been called, props have been gathered; it's time for rehearsals. So we've made the most of our last cocktail night.

After a great dinner of grilled vegetables and edamame salad (from Mark Bittman's The Minimalist) we had wine from our new favorite store, Moore Brothers. The wine store, located in New Jersey, specializes in wines from artisanal wineries around the world. The product is shipped from the wineries at 56 degrees and the store is kept at 56 degrees (bring a fleece) so the wines are fresh and delicious. If you like wines, check it out.

We skipped cocktails since we had the wine and sat on the porch, it was a beautiful night, discussing everything from managing people to the Presidential campaign. Our conversations run the gamut on cocktail night. Sometimes, we even figure out whatever has been bugging us that week. It's better than marriage counseling which we tried once. We failed at the counseling though (I'll explain in another post) probably because we didn't need it. Anyway, our best therapy is cocktail night and we get to drink.

Of course, I'm not going to see Brian for the next two months so I doubt we'll have any issues.

Procrastination is Making Me Wait

I went down to the Arden the other day to say hi, get the groundplans for Candide and chit-chat. Starting a show, since I don't do them on a regular basis, is like getting into the water for me. It takes me about 20 minutes to get into the pool. I walk in slowly getting used to it. The rest of my family jumps right in and can't understand why I take so long. Well, it's the same thing for a show; I need time to ruminate about it before I do anything. Unfortunately, this show doesn't allow a lot of leeway in the "ruminate" department.


I popped into the production, office, saw the model of the set, and read the plans for the trap doors, the falling snow and the orchestra. And then I panicked.


"Why did I say yes to this show?" I asked Courtney Riggar, the Production Manager.


She just laughed but I was serious. I've never done a show this big. It's like Broadway without the pay.

• 20 in the cast
• An orchestra
• Body Mics
• Snow falling from the rafters
• 4 follow spots
• Mops popping up out of the floor
• Things that go bump in the night

Well, perhaps not bump in the night but I can't be sure; I didn't actually get through all the special effects.


The Assistant Production Manager, Jessi West, said I'd kick this show in the ass. Well, we'll see after it's all said and done.


So now, I'm sitting here drinking wine and instead of updating contact sheets, and pouring over scene breakdowns, I'm just panicking. I'm on the third step of the pool and it's time to just jump in.


Sink or swim, there is no getting out of the pool now.

Let's Get This Party Started

As a French major in a previous life (and by that I mean before husband and kids), I studied pre-revolutionary France. With the court ensconced at Versailles, the Parisian aristocrats had run of the city. Those in the know met at Salons where they discussed everything from politics to art to the latest gossip. I am fascinated by the idea of a group of people getting together to discuss the arts. I find that happens a lot when I stage manage a production. Artists gather on their breaks to discuss the state of theater, the latest plays, new projects and how to make a living--especially when one has kids. A question, I most often receive when I work on a show is, "You have two kids? How do you do it all?" I honestly can't say I know except that I have an understanding husband who makes an awesome cosmopolitan.

Interestingly enough, my next theater project will be at the Arden Theatre Philadelphia this Fall where I will stage manage a production of Candide. Voltaire wrote Candide in 1759 to satirize the popular optimism movement of the time. Voltaire, the pen name of Francois Arouet, was very popular in the salons of his day because of his wit and imagination.

This past Spring, I did my first show at the Arden, The Piano Lesson by August Wilson. It was such a great experience that I am looking forward to this next project. As an added bonus, the rehearsals start in August and this is the first summer in two years that my children are not in camp. The days can get long.


My family and I are new to the Philly area. We moved here two years ago because I thought I wanted a full-time, day job in Theater. Not so much. I did write an essay published in the Philadelphia Inquirer about our move. It was published in June of 2007, I'm having trouble finding the link to it. A quick update on our situation in case I do get the link to it. We no longer live on the Main Line, we've bought a house in Abington Township. My full-time job at the time of the article was with People's Light and Theatre Company, another excellent theater located in Malvern, PA. But I missed stage managing and Malvern is too long of a haul from Abington. Luckily, as I decided to leave People's Light, the Arden was hiring stage managers so it worked out perfectly.


And here's another coincidence, the Arden periodically hosts salons that gather artists together to discuss, you guessed it, theater.

See it all comes full circle.