Brazil

So... hey. I performed in Brazil last month. I probably should have brought that up sooner.

The last time my company performed in Brazil was kind of a disaster. Not in the sense that the show was poorly received. Not that at all. It was just that all the material for the show arrived three days later than expected and theatre was just massacring the artists (umbrella spine through someone's leg, nose smashed in by a double bass, the usual).

For the most part, things went much more smoothly this time around. True, the audience wasn't as full as the last time, but at least this time everyone left intact. There was, however, one monumental moment of drama.

As always, it was a show like any other. And then, during the second to last act, the point used for the two aerial acts decided it had had enough and just ceased to function. It would no longer go up or down. This was during the dance trapeze act, and act which has a whole helluva a lot of going up and down.

At this point in the show, those who aren't directly implicated in the trapeze act are busy setting up the structure and trampoline for the finale. Fortunately, we've gotten good at this and it happens really fast.

I say fortunately, because right around the time we managed to set everything up, things started to get a little crazy backstage.

The technician that mans the ropes during the trapeze act was yelling for assistance and everyone with a free hand was trying to fix the unknown problem. You know that wall of ropes that controls all the fly bars and whatnot in a theatre? Well A decided that the best course of action was to climb those ropes and hack at the rigging of the trapeze.

The aforementioned ropes

While this successfully dislodged a sandbag from the ceiling, a sandbag that had the courtesy not to land on anyone I might add, it did nothing to help the trapeze situation.

It was at about this time that F, the technician in charge of pulling the trapeze act, started yelling at D to get off the trapeze and, well, off the stage. B decided that the best course of action was to go on stage and dance around while the rest of us scrambled to get the next scene in place, but despite our good intentions, we had to stop. We managed to get the trapeze a little higher, and while it was technically out of the way for the trampoline number, holy crap, it was still just above the trampoline!

Notice the painting that is the shadow

of the trapeze? Awesome.

Like I said, it wasn't technically in the way, but seeing a trapeze hanging over where you're about to jump... it shakes you up a little bit.

The technicians were worried it would be a seven hour repair job, but thanks to a mysterious length of cable hiding in one of the trunks, it only took about two and a half hours. And hey, this time no one bled, so that's kind of a win, right?

Too Hot to Handle

It was the night before the premiere and we were doing a run through. There was a bit of apprehension regarding just how much electricity the show would require, and just how much was available to us. Just to be safe, they decided to do the run under real show conditions, meaning that the crepe pans and such would be up and running at the bar.

We had about a half hour of the show left to get through when the safety lights suddenly came on and the director came running down the stands yelling "Stop! Stop!"

There seemed to be a problem with the breaker box.

It had melted.

Upon inspection of the smouldering remains, it was discovered that most of the fuses weren't so much actual fuses as random strips of metal.

Oops.

I should probably add that it wasn't our breaker box that melted but the breaker box of the site we are using.

Double oops.

We had managed to get trough most of the show, but D hadn't had a chance to do her act and for her, it was pretty important to have that run. There was about 15 minutes left on the security lights, so if there was a enough light for her, she could do it. The only problem was that without electricity, there would be no sound. We use an electric keyboard and the piano really does hold her music together.

In the end, she ran her act with an acoustic version of the music. Assuming the role of piano, was the accordion.

It was awesome.

Fortunately, the circus had it's own breaker box and we were able to get that in place in time for the premiere. And while that's all well and good, I can't help but feel that the tone that has been set for this run of shows is a little on the worrisome side.

Lights Out

I have a confession to make.

I have a secret desire for show time drama.

I have heard tales of shows having to be canceled due to the power failures or console malfunctions. I have heard tales of the troupe tending to the tent all night, pyjama clad, in order to prevent it from collapsing in the wind. I have heard tales of artists being pulled out mid-show due to unexpected injuries, and the subsequent scramblings to cover for them. I have heard tales of musicians having to play from backstage because they had put their back out and weren't mobile enough to be onstage, or who had to be propped up because they had been hit so hard they were in a daze.

Those last two were actually the same person...

But so far, these have only been stories. True, there have been some mini-dramas on this tour. Someone fell ill and we had to replace them or something like that. But there was always ample time to do so and it was more an inconvenience that a proper drama.

I'm certainly not crossing my fingers for someone to get hurt. But there's just something so invigorating about having to overcome a crisis mid-show, the troupe coming together and pulling off a miracle!

So when the lights suddenly went out on the last night, right before the start of the show, I admit I hoped for a crisis. If only just a little one.

It was very strange to be backstage. The theatre we were performing in had a video link to what was going on in front of the curtain. We were able to see how badly the lights were malfunctioning. Whispers of  "someone should make an announcement..." were soon replaced by complete and total silence. And not just by the artists backstage. The audience had gone silent too, thinking the show was about to start. When the lights kept flashing on and off it was quickly understood that something wasn't right.

Audience and artists held their collective breath... would P be able to find a solution? Apparently the console has failed...

Unlike the sound console mishap in Geneva, there was a second lighting console to rely on. P was able to transfer all the lighting cues to the backup console and though late, the show was able to go on.

We were lucky, of course. The console could have failed during the show. That would have been truly disastrous...

Deep Breaths and Curse Words

Things don't always go according to plan.

Mama said there'd be days like this.

Sometimes everything that can go wrong does go wrong.

And sometimes those three things team up and kick your ass from here to Sunday.

Only if it was Sunday I'd have the next two days off...

Where do I even begin? The show seemed destined for difficulty before it even began. I've been having some health issues as of late, and tonight seemed to be one of the rougher nights. I mean, nothing sets the mood like having a heart to heart with the porcelain princess right before the show.

Troubles with the costume change, couscous in my wheel shoes (don't ask), straining my knee a little mid-way through my number, followed by taking a severe blow to the calf at the end.

Things seemed to look up until I came very close to knocking the marimba off the stage (only one side fell off...). This was then followed by the near catastrophic swinging-into-the-bottle chandelier incident. Thank the circus gods none of them broke... not that I didn't come close to breaking the extra bottles I was left to take onstage.

And hey, you know what goes good with a blow to the calf? Having a mirror shoved into both your shins! Which pairs marvelously with taking a platform to the gut as you maneuver your way through the backstage in the dark.

Cue the group battle scene (really!). Only add a stage covered in so much make up residue and couscous (don't ask) that everyone is sliding all over the place. Then try and do some acro on the slippery slippery floor. And then, for good measure, bash your forehead on the floor before you exit.

Nice!

Can't find the carabiner in the mess of fabric? No worries! That's beans compared to what's about to happen...

End of kite number. We try to take the kite down, but the kite won't move. Its stuck. Meanwhile, the white curtain is trying to go up only now its stuck in the kite. Fine. Bring everything back down. Big, gaping, silence of death follows... okay. That bit's settled. Move the structure forward and put everything in place. Cue the... wait! C isn't there yet! The bassist's mic pack and headphones are stuck on something and strangling him! The weight is still on the trampoline! P goes gives the audio cue to start and since I'm running late (someone had to get rid of the weight) and he often starts before I give him the visual cue anyway, I bolt to my place. More awkward silence and feeble attempts at curtain waving...

The curtain falls. The trampo-wall act finally starts. Its the last act of the show. So for good measure, I roll my ankle...

Deep breaths...

Curse words...

And now, bed.

Est-ce Que C'est Moi?*

There is nothing more glorious than live performance. I say that, of course, with a hint of bitterness. The third show in La Rochelle was one of the most technically disastrous shows I have ever witnessed. The good news is, apparently the show can hold its own, even when the technical side of things go awry.

So what went wrong? There were many little problems, but my favourites were the straps and the mat.

The beginning of the straps number is a bit long. Mostly because there are no straps involved, just a lot of drunken wandering. Part of the scene, doncha know. But normally, after the mood is established, a little firecracker type thing goes off and the straps come down from the ceiling. Only this time, nothing happened. The sad thing is, the intro to the number is so long, I didn't even notice that anything was wrong!

So A. goes over to the piano tell the composer that there are no straps coming, only by this point the technicians have climbed into the grid to get the things down manually. Meanwhile, M. is meandering around the stage improvising trying to cover the gaping hole that the wait has created.

Hilarious!

Then, there's the mat. At the end of the show there's a big group trampo-wall number. Normally, there's a staged fall from the top of the structure and the acrobat who does it, none other than A., lands in a big mat. Only there's no mat. If the improvising during the straps act was hilarious, this was pants-wettingly good.

Now, either somebody has it in for A., or dude just has some seriously bad luck. Considering how often he bumps into stationary objects, I'm going to go with the latter.

Oh La Rochelle! What else do you have in store for us?



* You had to be there.