I ran the lights and sound last night at the theater, and a strange thing happened, at the very end of the show.
But before I tell that story, I have to tell you that the LA Weekly ran a feature on City Garage and this show, and, well, in light of all the other positive reviews "Quartet" has been getting, it should come to no surprise to you that the feature was equally, if not more, positive. Also? HUGE photo (way to go, Pauly!), in color, of Sharon and Troy. Very nice.
So as you know, I've been thinking quite a lot about the ending of the show - I think I mentioned in earlier posts that I was out of town during most of the two weeks' worth of tech rehearsals, but this is an easier show, and apparently I'm now considered to be reliable in the booth (Frederique told me again last night - and I could listen to this all day long, let's be honest - that "Charles LOVES working with you," giving the word "loves" as much emphasis as she can with her French accent). However, in spite of the praise and approval, I still lack some confidence, just because I'm that kind of person. And because I like to do things over and over again: repetition, with me, is the key to learning anything, it's just going to take some time before I can sit up there and relax a little. Though, I have to say, in spite of my nerves, it was a good show, last night, and technically, I was fine. The actors and the stuff on stage: it's beautiful - really, this is a great production.
ANYWAY, so we get to the end. Those last five pages move along pretty fast, until the final moments; I'm holding for the last audio cue, which is given to me by Sharon. She takes her time and doesn't rush, and she makes a beautiful moment there, and I'm, you know, standing there with my left arm poised by the "play" button on the player, waiting to go. I'm learning to take my time, too - this is what I learned the other night, from how I was doing the curtain call, and I wanted to really get it right. For me, and for the actors: the change I needed to made is really pretty minute, and the audience would never notice the thing I'm talking about. This is just me being a perfectionist. So Sharon gives me the cue, and I waited a second. Maybe two. And then: PLAY.
Now, there is not a lot of music in this show. But what there is, really makes an impact, and it's impressive. But just hitting play is not the end of the show - I had to go on to the curtain call, and it's exciting for me, to see the end of these 75 minutes and to hear the applause and feel proud of the actors - and I want to usher them off stage appropriately. So I'm a little excited. You know? Heart beating, toe tapping excited. But last night, when I hit play, the strangest thing happened:
The door to the booth, which is just like any other door, with a knob and everything, had been closed - closed by me, clicked tight, you know? But when I hit "play" that door swung open - not gently, but as if the cops were coming in, as if this were a raid, as if I were about to be thrown to the ground and sniffed by police dogs, and it slammed against the wall (well, it's not really a wall, it's a bank of switches and giant breaker things and light stuff that I never touch and don't understand) with some force, and knocked there a few times. At first I thought it was Frederique, coming to tell me something, but I realized two things in a split second - that this would be a horrible time to come SPEAK TO ME, and that she was sitting out in the audience, watching the show.
Luckily that audio cue is a fairly loud one, because I did gasp quite audibly, but luckily I kept my wits about me, and I went on to do the thing I thought I might not do satisfactorily, and it was fine. Though I will admit that I may have been a tiny bit freaked out, it didn't have any effect on my performance.
After the audience left the theater, and I was shutting things down, I thought about it a little, and tried to reason it all through - of course there are no ghosts in the theater - but still. It was certainly startling. And who else would've come in like that? So now the thing to find out is if the theater is haunted.
Now, see, I don't really like shit like this. I'm not a ghost story kind of girl. I don't listen to Art Bell. But I do recall, last year when I was doing The Bacchae, that there was one night, it might've been a Sunday because the theater wasn't completely pitch black, when I was getting into my place on stage, at stage left, before the start of the show (I came out in the dark with a few other girls; I took my place, seated on a couple of tires, and they took their places, displayed artfully in an old beached fishing boat), and I thought I saw someone standing in Frederique's office (the office is behind the left side of the audience, with glass windows); from my position, it was right in my line of sight. And then the show started, and I forgot about it.
Until now.
...
Update added 9/2/07 @ 12:17 a.m.
Tonight, I realized that of course I had forgotten that Frederique, when she gave me my cue to "go" last night, the cue that starts the show, that she would've been the one to close the door, and maybe she didn't pull it closed all the way (the way that I would have), and so, when the loud music started at the end of the show, the force from the speaker (which is directly over the door, outside the booth, in the lobby) could have caused the door to swing open.
And Pauly thinks it may have been him, himself, in the office that other time.
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