Thoughts on delegating

Most of the time in my props work, I am working solo. In the past year or so I've been able to have an assistant for tech week at times, but in general I research, shop, and create the props for a show entirely on my own.

Early this summer I had the opportunity to work several days as an overhire artisan at the Goodman Theatre. Working on a team with five full time props staff members and several other overhire workers was fun and very interesting. I learned a lot in a very short amount of time. With so many people around, there always seemed to be someone who was an expert in whatever task was at hand, and the shop turned out beautiful detailed work. 

Right now, I am just finishing my first week at Peninsula Players Theatre. I have an assistant here who manages props all season, and an intern who has been assigned to props for this rotation (and has worked other jobs for the other productions this season). In this situation I'm the expert, and need to be in charge of the delegating, rather than being the one who is delegated to, as I was at the Goodman. 

These two experiences have me thinking quite a bit about working as a team and the pros and cons of those experiences vs working solo. So, with my apologies for no organization strategy, here are some random thoughts on the subject. 

-When I am the boss delegating, I find I can work very effectively by starting a project, teaching someone how to do it, and then leaving them to finish. Especially in my past experience as a tech director at a theatre where I had lots of unskilled intern labor, and very few skilled carpenters, I made it a personal rule to never finish a project. I would gather all the tools and supplies for a project, start laying it out, and create a sample if possible, so that when someone came wandering up asking "what should I do now" my answer was always, "this!" Since the project was already set up I didn't need to waste any time with long explanations and lists. The intern could get right to work and I could move on to the next project. 

- The plus side of a large crew is that there is broader array of skills and expertise. If I encounter a problem with a project, I have five other people who can help me brainstorm and therefor will am more likely to find the best or most creative solution quickly. I often lament that my learning is limited while working as the only prop person on a show, because there is no one around to teach me, on a large crew there is always someone around who can teach you something, and I learned more in eight days at the Goodman than I probably did the entire rest of the summer. 

- The down side to a big crew is that often, when things are busy, it is harder to learn a new skill. If I am a talented seamstress, and another crew member is a talented welder, there are rarely going to be occasions for me to improve my welding or her to improve her sewing. When those projects come up, it is most efficient to give the task to the person who has already perfected the skills to complete it. Artists end up growing much more specialized and less well rounded. 

- You can delegate research. It's probably because most of the time when I have had an assistant it had been later in my process, but for some reason, before I was asked to do research at the Goodman, it hadn't occurred to me. I had the props intern do research for me on her first day of work and it was hugely helpful. It also helped to get her into the world of the show, which hopefully will continue to be a benefit no matter which projects I assign her going forward.

-The more people there are to delegate to, and supervise, the less you get to do yourself. This kind of goes along with the first point about never finishing a project, but I definitely get to a point where, after spending several days doing the shopping and the driving and the emailing I need to sit down and make something- even if it's something small. 

When should contracts be renegotiated

So this is more of a question than a statement, but I am starting to wonder when I should consider changes to the script and budget as motivations to insist on contract renegotiation.

Two recent conversations led me to this post.

The first was a conversation with a production manager who told me that one of her newest lessons came from a Tech Director (TD). He told her that if the budget of a show is increased, he always insists on an increase in pay. He logic was this; When he signs onto a project, he is agreeing on a certain amount of pay for a certain amount of work, namely as much scenery as can be built with the budget designated. Production managers and producers often decide, if a set estimate comes in over budget, to redistribute money, and increase the set budget in order to get the set desired. Unfortunately, this TD contends, that means more work for the TD, as more money means more scenery. This TD insists on renegotiating his contract if the budget has changed, because this means he is being asked to build more for the same pay.
This is something, in props, that I would never have considered. Often in my work, the more money I have, the easier my job becomes, because I can spend less time looking for the absolute best price possible.
The contract renegotiation that this TD spoke of seems very do-able, since in most cases the budget is listed in the contract. It is not hard to explain that a changed budget, changes the written terms of the contract. Having this in mind has convinced me to make sure all future contracts explicitly state my budget.

The second conversation I had is a bit trickier and also a more common problem.
A costume designer I regularly work with told me that she was frustrated with a current project. After she had signed her contract, the script was edited. In the new draft there was a huge prosthetic costume/makeup effect that had not been included in the first draft she had been given. She had taken a low paying show with the understanding that it was also an easy show. Now it wasn't an easy show. She felt bitter, stuck and taken advantage of. The conversation made me wonder if maybe I should think about asking for a clause in my contract that states that the pay and budget are based on the draft of the script that I had been given to review. I want the ability to reopen conversations about budget and fee if changes in future drafts significantly alter my workload.

These are just thoughts right now, but I would love to hear your thoughts and experiences. Do you have specific clauses you ask for in contracts? Have you even had to alter a contract based on changes to the script or to the design?

"Do their notes first"

This lesson/rule comes from Sarah Hughey, a friend and fantastic lighting designer who I have worked with on numerous productions.

The rule is simple; When you are working on a show, especially during tech, you will likely have a long list of notes you would like to complete. On that list, you will have notes that you took yourself for things that you would like to work on/improve, and notes from the director, actors, and maybe other designers and collaborators. When it comes time to start crossing the notes off your list, always take care of notes given to you by others before the notes you took on your own.

The reason for the rule should be obvious. If a director or other designer sees the same problem several nights in a row, after a note has been given, it begins to make you look bad. People can get a bad impression regardless of how many other notes have been completed. You want to be the person who completes notes quickly and efficiently, and who never has to be asked twice.

As obvious as the rule seems when typed out, I was terrible at this before Sarah explicitly explained it as one of her personal rules. It can be very easy, especially when the notes others give you are small or simple, to push them to the bottom of the list in favor of larger or more complex notes that will take more focus.

Now, I have begun to employ the rule (sometimes needing to say it out loud to remind myself).  I take care of the notes from others first, especially if they are simple. And when I am unable to complete the notes from others by the next rehearsal, I make a point to let them know how progress stands on that specific task, and when they should expect to see it completed (often this involves waiting on shipping, or waiting for the weekend until a store is open on Monday).

To All The Small Theatre Companies

I had a wonderful meeting with a woman the other morning. She is planning to produce her first storefront show here in Chicago, with the hopes of continuing to produce with the same group as a new theatre company. We talked a bit about resources here in Chicago, the way tech tends to be scheduled, things that are typically written into designer contracts, and payment schedules.
She also asked me a very interesting question- What makes me want to work with a company that can't pay me what I'm worth? What can a small company offer to me as an artist, besides money, to make me want to work with them.
I gave her a long list, and I figured, why not share it with anyone else who could use it.
In no particular order:

• Be up front with me from the first email. "We don't have a lot of money" is what I usually hear, which is honest, but if I don't know exact dollar amounts, it is impossible to have a productive conversation. This is partially because I need to look at my personal budget and see if I can afford to do this show, but more because I need to know if it is possible to do the show, at the level of quality I hold myself to, for the amount in the budget. 
• On a similar point, it is really helpful to have a conversation with the director about what is possible and what is not possible for me to do on this show with this budget. If the director and I start out on the same page, the budget can be any size, but if the director has aspirations bigger than her budget, it doesn't matter what size the budget is, we will both end up unhappy with the end product. 
• Treat the things I provide you with respect. I will not get frustrated if something breaks, especially in rehearsal when you are trying new ideas, that is part of the process. I will get frustrated if pieces are lost, or not stored safely, or if I give you specific instructions for the use or care of something and those instructions are ignored. 
• Get me involved in the production process as soon as possible. I love working on shows where production meetings start months before the first rehearsal, even if we only have one or two. I love to be in a room full of artists talking about the meaning of the play, what we would like to communicate to the audience, what sort of language we all want to work with in terms of color, and shape and texture that could apply to all design elements? I love conversations about why we are doing this show in this time and this place, who our audience is, how we want them to interact with the characters etc. Productions that start this way always seem to lead to more collaborative production teams, which helps produce work that we can all take pride in. 
• Continue that type of artistic collaboration throughout. I distinctly remember sitting in a production meeting after a first preview; the lighting designer mentioned that he had been distracted during the performance by the squeaking stool in the stage manager's booth behind him, he figured that she may not have been aware that the sound was carrying. The ASM indignantly turned to the room and asked "Did the lighting designer just give stage management a note?" The room went silent, and after that no designer felt very comfortable giving a suggestion or even asking a question to another department, and an atmosphere like that can only hurt a show. An open conversation between all departments about what is working and what isn't from sound cues to script choices allows everyone in the room to take advantage of the collective knowledge of so many theatre practitioners  Collaborative environments with open conversations make me feel like I am growing as an artist, and that makes me want to come back to work with you. 
• Feed me. I know it's little and I know it's silly, but something to eat that I don't have to think about goes a long way to making tech more pleasant and making me feel appreciated.  Also if I am running around like that, I often forget to eat, and I get pretty cranky before I realize I'm probably just hungry, this is not a time when I am doing my best work. 
• Do something about parking if possible. If you can make an arrangement with a local lot, or reimburse me for some of my meter receipts, or even have an ASM ready to run out and grab something from me when I pull up so that I don't have to circle for an hour to find a space close enough that I can carry all the everything from my car, that would be awesome. While many theatres in town are easily accessible by public transportation, that doesn't help me when I have a car full of props (costume designers have this issue too, help them out if you can).
• I worked with a theatre that did a talkback with each person involved after each show. I met two company members (who had not been directly involved in this production) for coffee and talked for an hour about what went well, what didn't, what I would do differently if I could do it again, and then about what my career goals and aspirations were in general. It was awesome. It made me feel appreciated, respected, and I got some great feedback and career advice.  
• Get me keys to the space, if you can (if you are renting I know this is much less doable). If I can drop off big pieces at any time of day regardless of who else is around and available it makes my job so much easier. It is hard to keep shopping for furniture if there is a dining table taking up the entire bed of my pickup truck.  
• Pay attention from the beginning to where the trouble spots are going to be. One of my favorite  theatre companies does this particularly well. Time, labor, and budget resources are directed to the department who will need them most. I know if I am doing a big props show with them I will have a bigger budget, a bigger fee, a few more one-on-one meetings with the director and/or the set designer and I'll have the production manager offering to help me track down big pieces. I see the same support being thrown behind other designers when it is a heavy costume or lights show. If I know I will be taken care of when I need help, I will keep coming back regardless of whether the support was directed to my department this time. 
• Do interesting shows with a clear mission. The more targeted you are about what you do and what makes you different from everyone else, the more intriguing you are. The more passionate you are about WHY you choose to do what you do, the more likely I will becoming interested and involved in your mission and invested in your success. The rule of thumb I tell people is, that I should be able to give you ten amazing plays that you would love to see, and you should be able to eliminate seven of them immediately because they aren't a good fit for your company. If you can't do that, you need a more focused vision. 
• Prop Freeze! This is my favorite new thing. The idea is that we set a date during the rehearsal process when the director is supposed to stop adding new props (with a couple of companies this has been first tech). After the freeze date the director can still ask for new things and for changes, and I will do them to the best of my ability, but I also have the ability to tell them without any guilt that there is no longer enough time or money to make that change. With some directors, this would hardly ever come up, but with others, it's really good to know I have a safety net in case they make a last minute outlandish request. 
• Get me help. I have lots of ways I can use untrained labor. There is always a repetitive project that could use another set of hands, and I love to teach. Even one or two hours on one day can be awesome and make me feel supported.
• Understand that I will likely leave when I'm done. Especially on smaller shows, if I have completed all of my notes and haven't been getting notes from other people, I'm probably going to stop coming to previews and I may not make it to opening. This is not because I don't like the show or hanging out with you, this is probably because I need to start working on my next show. If you are understanding and respectful of this, I am much more likely to want to work with you again. 
• Remember, I need to keep working with these vendors. A few years ago, I performed a props miracle and was able to get a high-end furniture store to loan me several expensive modern furniture pieces for a production. At the time I was driving a small car, but the company manager assured me that they had someone with a pickup who would help to return the pieces to the store after strike. I  learned about a year later that they never returned the pieces. I could never bring myself to show my face in that store again (it recently closed).
• Hire cool people. A lot of this will be contingent on doing some of these other things so that the cool people want to keep coming back. Nothing will make me sign on for a low paying show quicker than a list of people involved that I like working with. 

Props Designer vs Props Master

I've been recently working on a very big, very high budget show. The set designer on this project is kind of a big deal, he has Broadway credits and TV credits and movie credits and has been working at the top end of the industry for over 30 years.

I recently had a very interesting discussion with him about the titles of props master vs props designer. Over the last few years working in Chicago I have started more and more to call myself a props designer, so I was a little taken aback when John (the set designer) told me that he found the term incredibly annoying and insulting. He feels that calling the props person a designer as well takes away from the credit he should be receiving, or in some way demeans his position as set designer. I understand his point, and while I don't completely disagree with him, I think that the situation always needs to be taken into account.

So to clarify, in my opinion there is a difference between being a props master and a props designer. When I am a props master, I expect to be working very closely with the set designer. I expect to be given research and input on what the furniture, set dressing and key props should look like. The set designer is someone who will look at photos of the 6 desks I have located, and make the final choice of which one to buy. If I am the props master, then I have a collaborative partner who will be taking more responsibility for the final look of the show (whether that credit is receiving positive praise or accepting negative criticism). I will, of course, be making many decisions about details, budget, and small hand props on my own (or else why bother hiring me), but the overall look of the production is mine to support, not to decide.

I call myself a props designer so often in Chicago, because in so many of the small storefront theatres where I work, I am not the same level of support from set designers. In so many cases, furniture, set decoration and the overall look and feel of the props are left completely to me to discuss and work through with the director. I usually make an attempt first to achieve collaboration with the set designer, sending photos and emails, and asking for research; it is only when I do not get the information I need that I start to make decisions without input from the set designer. I am perfectly happy to assume full responsibility for the final look of the show in those cases (at many theatres this has nothing to do with the quality of the designer, it is just the way labor has traditionally been divided), but with that responsibility should come the credit and title of designer.

My conversation with John helped me to clarify and articulate to myself these differences. When the conversation initially started (and for a few days after), I worried that I was being self-important and pretentious by calling myself a props designer. I worried that I should stop using the term for fear of annoying potentially important people. With a lot of thought I have come to the conclusion that the term has it's place. I need to be more careful about how I use it, and after articulating for myself where the line is between master and designer, need to apply the terms appropriately, but abandoning the term completely would be just as wrong as using it in all cases.

The Rule of Three

The rule of three is this, you cannot have something fast, cheap, and high quality. In most cases you will have to pick two of the three, and in some cases, only one.

To provide some examples of how this works, lets talk about this couch.

Option 1- Sacrifice Fast

If you decided that you were absolutely inflexible on quality and budget, this couch could be attained by searching and waiting for something similar to show up on craigslist or at a thrift store for a good price and then reupholstering and generally rehabbing it until it looked like you wanted. For this to happen, you would have to allow a significant length of time to complete the task. It could take weeks or months for a couch that was close enough to what you wanted to show up at a price you can afford. In order to allow this option to work, the best thing a director, designer or theatre company can do for me is to start meetings early. Meetings don't have to happen often, but if you can tell me 5-6 months out that you know you are going to want a large wooden canopy bed, it is much more likely I will be able to find it, than if you tell me 6 weeks out.

Option 2- Sacrifice Cheap

If time is not an option, and you are still inflexible on quality, this couch could be attained by doing a wide and extensive search (remember man hours=money because you have to pay workers). Once the piece was found you would be stuck paying whatever the seller or renter wanted to charge. Even if you don't have a large budget, this can sometimes mean that you set a certain prop as a priority and commit to spending what you need to achieve it, including being willing to sacrifice perfection in other places. For example you may decide that the perfect period stage sword is a priority and be willing to spend what you need to get it, then to make the budget work, be willing to use the table and dishes that were already in stock from another show even if they aren't absolutely perfect.

Option 3- Sacrifice High Quality

If you did not have very much time, and also have a limited budget, then it is time to sacrifice quality. This does not have to mean that you will end up with a trashy or cheap looking show, but it does mean flexibility. It means that you have to forget about the perfect couch, and start expanding your mindset so that when one of these couches shows up, you are ready to jump on a deal. 

     

Sacrificing quality, at least in my world does not mean it will look bad, it just means flexibility, willingness to compromise and realistic expectations. It means that I might have had to borrow or rent the prop we are using so we can't change it or hurt it. It might mean that I can make the puppet's mouth or his arm move, but not both. It might mean that instead of buying something new, we find a way to alter something already in stock

As I have said before (quoting a friend, Sarah Miecielica) "theatre is art, on a schedule and with a budget." We would all like to have more money, more time, and more resources, but that is not the business that we are in. It is immensely helpful for the entire production team to come in with realistic expectations and, together, to develop a sense of which design elements are priorities and which are less important. That is not to say that miracles can't happen. I have experienced more than my share of theatre magic. Sometimes things that you need show up in alleys, sometimes a kind store owner or stranger lets you rent or borrow or buy something for far less than its actual value, sometimes a random friend comes out of the wood work to reveal that "oh, my dad has one of those in his garage he's being trying to get rid of," but those magical moments should be appreciated as the lucky gifts that they are. Plan-A should never be luck.  It is always best to know, as early as possible in the process, what we will do if nothing lucky comes our way, and if we end up having to pay current market price for everything we need.

Becoming a Wedding Assistant

Ever since I started planning my wedding, I've been thinking about how lucky I am to already have all of these organization, shopping, budgeting, planning and crafting skills. More recently, after reading about a woman in New York who offers "craft concierge" services along side her wedding planning, and after talking to two Chicago stage managers who have translated their skills into wedding coordination, I started to think maybe I could make a business out of this. Then, when my fiance told me "this is what you should be doing" after a day working on wedding stuff, without me ever having mentioned the idea to him, I decided that I should go for it.
So here it is on my blog, an official announcement that over the next year or so I am going to be launching a wedding and event assistant business.

Some of the ideas I have about what I want my business to be (in illogical free writing, brainstorming order):

• I am not a wedding planner, I am calling myself a wedding assistant, because this is not my wedding. It is the wedding of the two people getting married and I am there to help them.
• There was a comment recently, on one of the blogs I read, from a bride who had the idea that she would do her own bouquets, from flowers she would buy at a grocery store or wholesaler. Unfortunately she had an aunt who was sure it would be a disaster, told her that it would be too difficult and that she would regret it. The bride was convinced and hired a professional florist, now she was wishing she had stuck to her guns. It dawned on me that I would be the perfect person to bridge that gap for people. I am not a professional florist, and will not charge you florist rates, but I have done DIY wedding flowers before, I know what I'm doing, we'll do them together. Having that extra set of experienced hands could give you the confidence to shoot down the nay-sayers and stick to your guns (and not just on flowers, that goes for DJing your wedding with an I-Pod, writing your own ceremony, making your own dress or veil or jewelry, baking the cake, or any number of other projects).
•  One of my life philosophies, that I think I could bring into the wedding world well is, "You can have anything you want, you just can't have everything you want." Everyone is going to have something special that they want to splurge on for their wedding, whether it is the cake, the food, the dress, the band, the venue or any other number of things. My mission will be to find you enough savings in other places through some creative sourcing and DIY craft projects, that you will be able to afford that one special thing. 
• I'm an awesome mediator (I'm pretty sure that comes out of growing up the middle girl between two brothers). I am a rock star when it comes to dealing with difficult family and friends and finding compromises. I am great at helping people see one another's side of a problem, and I will be great at heading off any and all possible disasters on a wedding day or leading up to it.
• Included in my prop designer skills, I am a carpenter and can build special tables, card boxes, alters, centerpieces etc. 
• I can sew. Not enough to create your wedding dress, but certainly enough to repair last minute rips and tears, make a veil, help you create custom table linens or any number of other projects you might dream up. 
• I know all the antique and thrift stores in the Chicago area and I visit them regularly. If you're looking for something (vintage jewelry, vases for centerpieces, mismatched china for the place settings etc) I can be on the lookout for you, buying what you need for reimbursement later. 
• I am great at making spreadsheets, lists, budgets and such, and will be excited to help you make yours. 
• In addition to all of this, what I could offer to brides would be a listening ear, a brainstorming partner, a voice of reason and calm, someone who will never get tired of hearing about your wedding, and someone who will more than likely show up with ice cream on a really stressful day, because ice cream always helps. 

What I need now is a bit of confidence and some references, so that I can convince people I don't know to hire me. If you know of anyone who might be interested in some wedding or event help (from small projects up to entire events), pass along my information. Right now I would be offering my services at VERY reduced rates in an attempt to build a bit of a portfolio. 

Hopefully, with a lot of hard work and a little luck, I'll have to start another blog soon. This time with wedding projects.

A New National Theatre

A few months ago I was having a conversation with my friend Nolan about the state of theatre in this country. We got on the subject of the Federal Theatre Project (a program that was part of the New Deal, the initiative funded theatrical performances and arts development all over the country). What, we asked, would such a program look like today, and how could it work? As fair warning, when this conversation was fresh in our minds, I suggested Nolan help me write a blog post on the subject, and then we both got busy and then we forgot. So my apologies if things are a little disjointed now or if references are a little vague.

Theatre is an art that I have always believed needs to focus on the local. When you try to say something universal, you often fall into the trap of being so generic you don't say anything at all. On the flip side of that, being so local is leaving theatre out of the national conversation. We live in a world where distance is often becoming less and less of a challenge. I can go on twitter or facebook, countless blogs, email, skype or (if I'm old fashioned) my cell phone, and discuss ideas, music, movies, television, books and countless other topics, with people around the country and around the world. We can't however, talk about theatre, at least about a specific production.

At the Time of Nolan's and my conversation there was an article in Newsweek that included a list of challenging intellectual things happening "right now." One of those things was a production of Arcadia. I remember reading the article and thinking, "That's nice, but how many people who are reading this magazine will actually have access to that production."

Wouldn't it be great, Nolan and I discussed, if there were a national theatre? It wouldn't achieve the goals we have in mind if we used the model of the National Theatre in London; no matter where we placed the venue, it would be out of reach for the majority of the country. The model of the old Federal Theatre Project wouldn't work either. Funding random programs around the country is nice, but doesn't do much that the regional theatres don't already do, and sending around touring productions is nice, but doesn't facillitate a national conversation when it may be months and months between different regions seeing the show.

Our idea for a new national theatre would involve an initiative where the NEA (or another national organization) would choose a show and then offer it, royalty free, to theatres around the country, with the catch that the production must open around a uniform date. Ideally theatres all over the country would pick up the show, and allow audiences from hundreds of cities to join a conversation together about themes, ideas and different artistic takes on the same script. Each theatre company would naturally bring their own aesthetic and local spirit to their production but the single script would allow them to express local perspective as part of a larger national conversation.

Logistically, I believe this could be done incredibly cheaply, or even at no cost at all. Playwrights and publishers, I imagine, would be happy to participate with very little upfront compensation. The sale of scripts, and the national promotion of both the writer and the play, and likely appearance fees would provide enough compensation to make up for a small royalty.

As a side benefit, I imagine a project like this could also facilitate the communication, and collaboration of  formerly separated theatres and arts organizations. Giving a theatre in DC a reason to start a discussion with a theatre in Seattle might foster further communication, collaboration and artistic innovation.

My day job

I've never written about it on here before, but I was talking to another props master recently, and we were talking about money troubles and being freelance. I figured I should be honest. I have a day job.

I had a mild panic freak out about three months after I moved to the city. Money was tight, but things were starting to pick up a bit. I was hopeful. Then I found out that a costume designer I was working with had a day job cutting fabric and teaching classes at Joanns. This was a successful designer that I knew was working in multiple larger theatres around the city. She had been around for years. If she couldn't make a living doing it, could anyone? Is it absolutely impossible to make a living being a totally freelance designer in Chicago.

I am stubborn and hardworking, I thought, I can do it. I did some math and decided that I was going to be able to make it. For almost two years, each time money got really tight or I got worried, a big show seemed to show up and I had enough to continue on (not living well, mind you, this was always paycheck-to-paycheck stuff). I had just enough to hush that voice in the back of my head telling me that I would never make a living.

Finally, last November everything broke down. For a couple of weeks I was dead broke, eating cans of soup from the back of the cabinet, can't take a toll road today because I don't have the $0.80 broke. The worst part was that on paper I should have been fine. Between reimbursements I was owed and pay checks, I had three theatres that owed me, collectively, more than $4,000. Then my car broke down.
My parents were able to help me out with the car, my boyfriend was able to help me with some cash, some of the checks I was waiting for finally showed up, and I got through it. That was a bit of a turning point for me though. I was ready to look for a day job.

My problem was that I needed a day job that was consistent. I had tried working at Joanns, but shift work was too unpredictable. My schedule changed every week and I was never able do do things like plan meetings. The same applied to temp work. They wanted to know when I would be busy, but I never knew far enough ahead of time. I couldn't take a full day job without completely giving up propping. I needed 20 hours a week, roughly the same 20 every week (with a little flexibility). I needed to be able to plan production meetings and work calls around something and I needed time every week when I would be free so I could go shopping when the thrift and antique stores were open. I started asking around at the start of the year to see if anyone had any leads.

Around March I interviewed to become a nanny for a baby that was due to be born in April. I was offered the job in late April with a start date of June 1st. About the same time as the nanny job came up I started getting offers for summer gigs. I had enough offers to financially get me through the summer, and things were starting to materialize for fall gig offers. I could keep going, freelancing, watching things getting slowly incrementally  better, or I could turn down half of the summer jobs I had been offered (all with good theatres I wanted to work with) in exchange for a bit of stability. I had to make a decision. I took the nanny job.

I watch a sweet baby girl two days a week now, and (though it sometimes requires more night and weekend hours than I used to work) I get all of my props work done during the rest of the week.
It might be technically possible to make a living doing props freelance, but I am no longer interested in proving it. My game plan now is to be a little more selective in the shows I take, make sure that I rock every show that I do (which should be easier when I'm not overwhelmed with too many shows at once), and build a solid reputation that I can use to earn that awesome full-time job doing props, when one of the few that exists opens up. In the mean time I have the comfort that comes with knowing where a little bit of money is coming from every single week.

...and then it gets cut...

Since I started working props, I have been told over and over again that props masters have a very high burnout rate, and there are days when I totally understand why.

Much of the job is based on luck, sometimes it's all in the timing (bones and brains around halloween= easy, the same bones and brains in June= frusterating, the same goes for other holiday decorations, outdoor toys, fake seasonal flowers and any other number of things you might never have realized stores only carry seasonally). 

There is an unending number of skills you'll be asked to have; carpentry, sewing, upholstery, sculpting, painting, graphic design, puppetry, rigging and many others. It can get discouraging when you are expected to be a master of all these things, and are continually being confronting with another skill you need to learn. 

By far the worst things though, and the one that leads to the most frustration and burn-out, is cuts and changes. Unlike scenery, which can be difficult to change once it is built, props are pretty easy to change, so they will get changed. Often. They will also get cut. Often. Remember this beautiful rug that took Katy almost three full days of work to braid, coil and glue. They were worried about one of the rolling set pieces getting caught on it, so they decided it should be painted instead. The choice makes sense, and I agree. 

This situation was sort of best scenario. Katy doesn't care too much as long as she gets paid, and I don't feel like my time was wasted. I am a little frustrated because I have plenty of other things I could have used Katy's help on, and would have been in a much better position going into tech if she hadn't spent her time on the rug, but overall I was able to pretty easily brush it all off and move on.

And to add an even happier ending, I pulled the artistic director backstage during previews, unrolled the rug and asked her if there was any way to use it. They are currently using it under all the little tables and chairs they have set up in the lobby with coloring books for the kids prior to the show, so at least someone is enjoying it (even if it is being quickly destroyed by being trampled by dozens of muddly little shoes each weekend).

The value of ME

Recently, on apracticalwedding.com, a stationary designer, Julie from Up Up Creative conducted a one month "pay-what-you-can" experiment. She learned a lot about herself as an artist and business woman, and reading about her experiences and ideas helped me solidify many things that I've been struggling with as a freelance artist. 

The core idea she hit on is, "What's valuable about my business is me." 

Different people can pay me different amounts for the work I do (totally understandable, some theatre companies just don't have the funding that others have). The question is, how to scale the value I give to varying price points. As Julie pondered "If what's valuable about my business is me, how do I create a scale-able set of value propositions? Can I, and do I want to, provide varying amounts of me?"

In my work, I have sometimes found ways to provide varying amounts of me; projects that have fewer props, fewer unusual props, a more flexible time frame etc. I have started to realize though, that there is an amount that is too low; where what I can offer for the money a company has available to pay me, will result in a product that the company is not happy with and a I am not proud of. I can scale back the hours I spend working on a show. I can't scale back the quality of the work that I do. If the number of hours I have to spend on a project will require me to compromise quality in order to get it done, it's not a show I should be agreeing to take on. 

Another element of the same idea, is that I am learning that I have better experiences with people who also see that value of me. I am learning that there is a huge difference between people who hire me because they want my experience and creativity and artistic input, and people who hire me because they have a big project that needs to get done and they don’t feel like doing it themselves. I’m also learning that the amount someone can pay does not correlate with the way I am going to be treated, and while I need the people who can pay a larger amount, I will make an effort to work with people on more limited budgets if I know I am going to be treated well and appreciated.

This is my job...beating up vehicles

I currently drive a Oldsmobile Bravada. Her name is Daisy and she is the most wonderful SUV/rolling prop shop I could ask for. I've had her for a little over a year and half, and if I don't beat her up too badly (she gets a lot of abuse) I plan on keeping her for a good long while.
Before I got Daisy though, I was driving a 1994 Chrysler Lebaron convertible. I loved that car, it was super cute, and it was fun to drive around in the summer with the top down. It was the perfect car for me when I needed it to just be my car. When I was working in Pennsylvania and there was a company pickup available to me when I needed it, everything was fine.
When I moved to Chicago things changed. The little storefront theatres in the city rarely have even a drill or a chop saw of their own, a company truck or van was out of the question. I rolled with the punches though and decided I would do what I had to do to get the job done. More and more I started using my convertible as if it was a pickup truck. I would put the top down and tie things into the back seat as best I could. I discovered that if I slid a ten foot board down between the front seats to the floorboard on the passenger's side, it only hung out the back of the car a few inches. I loved the looks on the faces of the old men in the home depot parking lot as they watched me walk towards my car with a stack of lumber. I loved watching the smile of realization on their face as I turned the car on, unhooked the roof and lowered the top to load everything into the back seat.
It wasn't always ideal though. Multiple times I got caught driving to the theatre with a full load right as it started to rain. As it got colder I would bundle up with hat and gloves and scarf as I would drive through the city with a desk hanging out the back and the heat blasting on my toes to try to keep warm.
One night, in early February I was moving some benches and a bookshelf I had purchased to drop them off at rehearsal. The top went down, I wedged the pieces in, and I headed downtown. I moved the pieces into the theatre and everything was fine until I went back to my car to put the top up. Apparently the heavy benches had bent or twisted or wedged some part of the mechanism the moves the convertible top up and down. The roof would start to go up, but then would stop at totally vertical and wouldn't go any further. I was standing on the front seat of the car, pushing the roof motor button with my toe and yanking on the part of the top I could reach to try to pull it down, with no luck. On top of all of this, I was already running late to pick up a friend from St Louis at the train station.
The look on her face, a perfect combination of pity, confusion, and amusement, when I pulled up in below freezing weather still makes me smile. She stood there on the curb with her bags and stared at me. All I could say was "It won't go up." She laughed at me, we got into the car and decided to head home to figure out what to do next. On the way home, because we both needed food, and because we had reached our limitations for cold, we pulled off into a Wendy's. Before going inside to order food, we decided to try again. We had been working on the top for about five minutes, me standing on the front seat pulling and Megan crouched on the trunk of the car throwing her weight against it, when two sixty-year-old women walked up and asked us if we might need some help. We told them we did. With the extra two sets of hands standing on the sides of the car pulling down, the twisted or wedged piece finally popped loose and the top closed. We thanked the women, went into Wendy's and got some much deserved dinner.
I can only imagine what those women (and those people who passed the two of us on the highway between the train station and Wendy's) must have thought of us.

Connecting the Community

I've been trying for a while to find ways to connect the Chicago props community. I think we're probably a fairly small group (though it's hard to know) and that we could all be a lot more efficient and a lot saner if we had ways of helping each other out. It's tricky to get to know each other though, most shows I work on have only one props master...me, so chances to interact with other artists who do the same thing are incredibly limited.
Recently I went out to have drinks with another Chicago props master, Doug Kupferman, who shares the same goals. We talked through some of our wishes and some of the ways we were going to try to get things off the ground.

First, a random list of things that we hope our group could accomplish and questions it could address-

-We could share sources. It's a big city and there are lots of hidden gems. When I do get to talk to other prop masters I find they often have never heard of some of my favorite stores, and I haven't heard of theirs.

-I would like to have an efficient way of messaging other props masters when I am looking for a piece. We are all familiar with different stocks from different theatres around the city. It would be nice to find out if someone has that perfect Victorian couch before I resign to spending half my budget on one.

-I would also like to be able to share online resources, tips and tricks. While we were at the bar the other night, Doug showed me an app he uses on his smartphone that takes pictures of and then catalogues receipts for you, I was amazed! (as soon as I break down and buy a smart phone it is going to change my life!)

-I would like to have a forum for seeking advice (and warnings) about different theatre companies, ideally with a more positive tone ("These are some things that I learned along the way that will help you to know from the start with this company/director/designer" as opposed to "These are the horrible things that person X did and you should never work with them ever and no one else should either"). I would also like to be able to offer recommendations ("This company didn't pay much, but here are the awesome things they were able to offer me/things I learned from the experience")

-I often get emails about open positions that I can't take. It would be nice to be able to email a list of designers to a company looking for one, or to be able to email a job opening to a list of designers and see if anyone is free or interested.

Our initial solutions-

-First we started a google.doc spreadsheet of local Chicago suppliers. It's still pretty rough, right now it is divided into three lists: Antique and Thrift Stores; Fabric, Lumber and Craft Supplies; and Rentals. If you would like, you can check it out here, Chicago Props Resources. If you would like to help us expand the list and edit it, please send me an email and I will add your name to the list of approved editors. I would especially love to add more theatres interested in renting out stock to our Rentals list.

-Second we are starting a google group. chicago-props-forum@googlegroups.com. Essentially it's a list-serve. Once you are added to the group, I can send an email just to the one address, and it gets forwarded out to everyone who has signed up. This should be a great place to start in terms of finding items, and sending out job referrals. Once it gets up and running hopefully we can find a way to expand it into forums, lists or catalogues where we could keep a list of helpful hints on working with the designers, directors and theatre companies in the city. If you're interested in being a part of the list, you can email Doug at douglas.kupferman@gmail.com.

Cleaning Out Props Stock

 I've recently been helping one of the theatre I work for clean out their stock. I could not be more excited to do it; the stock has been overflowing since I first started working there. It took far too much time to even get to the box you were looking for and still you might not find what you needed when you got there.

There have been multiple times when I searched for something, couldn't find it, went out and bought what I needed, only to have the costume designer or assistant production manager ask me "Why didn't you just use the one we had in stock?"

Over time, after dealing with stock organization at many theatres, I've developed some rules for what is worth keeping and what should be thrown away, donated, sold or just generally gotten rid of after a show closes.

All of the boxes in this picture were dishes. most of which was packed tightly in newspaper to protect it. If I wanted to find anything I would have needed to pull all the boxes out, unwrapped dish after dish until I found something appropriate and then put it all back. As easily as dishes can be found at thrift stores and as cheap as they are when you find them. It is no wonder that many props masters didn't bother with stock. Buying was much easier, took 1/4 the time and they were able to select exactly what the show needed. It is smart to keep some common pieces in stock to pull for rehearsal props and to use when you need something basic (solid colored plates and bowls, a few versatile serving dishes, a matching set of silverware, anything that looks like it would be used in a diner or a restaurant...), but dishes with unique patterns, especially if you only have one or two of that pattern are best donated right back to the thrift store instead of taking up room in storage and preventing you from being able to find what you need quickly and efficiently.

These shelves though, when they are completed are going to be fantastic. I have found no better system than file boxes for organizing props. They are sturdy, easy to label, stack easily and hold a ton.

One of my biggest pet peeves in props stock at any theatre is liquor bottles. Especially if space is limited, please do not waste space storing empty bottles. I promise you, when a bottle of vodka, whiskey or wine shows up on the props list you will have someone in the company more than happy to empty a bottle for you. If you must keep something around, keep one red wine, one white wine, one vodka and one whiskey bottle that you can pull easily for rehearsal props. Directors can be very specific about their liquor anyway, sure as you have Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, Seagrams Seven and Wild Turkey Whiskey bottles, the director will insist that this character would be drinking Makers Mark.

So PLEASE just recycle your bottles and save room for other things.

Something else that should always be thrown away after a show is cheap disposable food and toiletries. The "vanity items" box was overflowing, but after we cleaned out all the cheap soaps, lotions, hair dyes and shaving creams that had been saved we had a manageable box of compacts, mirrors, brushes etc that really will be useful. 

The same thing goes for canned goods. I have often purchased canned goods to help fill out the shelves in a kitchen or corner store. After the show is over please just eat the corn or donate it to a local food pantry. Canned goods are heavy, take up a lot of space and can be purchased cheaply and easily the next time you need them.

This is the box of all the broken and mismatched silver

It had previously been mixed in with this box of nice matched silver. Both boxes were a mess and full of broken useless pieces. After sorting I decided to keep two full silver tea sets, a serving dish and an ice bucket. Between these two sets I am sure I will always be able to find what I need.

We had two full sets of dishes in stock, and with all the space created by everything we had thrown away, I decided that it was worth keeping them both. One was this set of formal fine china and one was a much more everyday set of dinnerware. It they had both been formal or both casual I only would have kept one. 

I also wanted to point out the awesome thought someone had to put a picture of the set on the outside of the box. I'm sure it has saved a lot of props masters a lot of time; myself included.

Acrylic drinking glasses are getting better and better. Basics can be purchased cheaply at stores like Target and there is an incredibly wide variety online for specialty pieces. I have started to believe that while it is good to have some glassware around (for those times when glasses need to clink and the acrylic just sounds wrong), it makes sense to get rid of some of your glass if the same thing is available in acrylic. I know personally I will always choose the acrylic when I have the option to avoid dangerous breakables on stage.

In addition to the basics I tend to save things that are special and would be hard to replace. This candelabra is unique, beautiful and I can imagine it ending up in multiple shows. It is also big, heavy, and doesn't fit in any of our boxes, which makes it tempting to get rid of, but that is the reason we are cleaning out stock. We are getting rid of junk so we have room for important pieces like this. Another downside of an overstuffed props shelf is that pieces like this can get damages. It was buried in the back of a shelf, corroding (and that's likely where that one arm got bent). It could have stayed back there for years, unused and sustaining more and more damage without ever being noticed. Now it can get used and cared for and will continue to be around when we want it.

Though, with that said, some hard to replace things are worth getting rid of. I am sure there was a good reason to save this at one time. The theatre used to do a yearly cabaret-slapstick Christmas show. This would have been a perfect piece to have on hand, but they have moved away from that type of theatre and it is time for this cup to go too. Keep in mind the types of shows that your theatre does. There are some pieces that I can look at and think "That is perfect for a big dance musical," but if this theatre doesn't do big dance musicals, maybe it is better to sell it to someone who does and make room for things we will use.

Sometimes, even when something seems incredibly useful and you know it will be used in show after show, it's still worth paring down your stock. Candleholders like these are used all the time in shows set prior to electric lighting. Since we have eight in stock though I am betting that multiples have been purchased when stock ones couldn't be located (I found these spread across four different boxes).

In the end I kept the biggest one, the most ornate one and two matching ones. I put them all back in the same box where they will be much easier to locate in the future.

As we were sorting and purging I realized there was one more box we needed to make. Often I have found myself working on a big interior set and going back to stock the week of tech to pull set dressing. You always need more than you think and one thing overstuffed stocks are good for is finding a lot of junk to fill in around the edges. So I decided to make a box that I could go to when that junk was needed. I filled a box with versatile, high quality kitsch and put it back on the shelf. 

A couple other stock notes:

• After a show ends I like to offer all props to the actors and production team first. I tell them that they can buy anything we used for half of what we paid. It just makes sense to have a little extra money now, then to put the items back in stock on the hope that they might get used in the future.
• When sorting, it is ideal to have an idea of the next three or four shows that you are putting up. Having an idea of what will be needed will save the frustration of getting rid of something only to need to buy a new one in three months (it will inevitably still happen, but you can minimize it, and the fear of that frustration is no excuse for hanging onto useless objects).
• Re-donating things to thrift stores is a great way to build up some good will with the people there. If they see that you are regularly bringing in donations, they are much more likely to work with you when you need to bargain for something that is out of your price range.
• One of my favorite stories about props stock involves a local Chicago theatre. They were curious about whether the money they were spending to pay rent on their storage unit was worth the price. For a full season someone kept track of what they pulled from stock for each show. At the end of the season they added everything up and realized that they were losing money. They got rid of their stock and now, at the end of each show they recycle what they can, throw away what they have to, invite other theatre companies to come scavenge at their strikes and donate whatever is left over. I'm not saying that this will work for everyone (especially if your storage space is free), but it certainly provides some perspective when you are contemplating what to save at the end of a show.
• And finally, stocks require maintenance. Every three or four shows you need to go back, clean sort and purge again. You can help yourself when you clean by allowing room to grow. If when you sort you go from overflowing down to full, after one or two more shows you will be back to overflowing. Instead try to sort and purge until you are at around 80% capacity so you give yourself room for new items when they arrive.

National cuts to arts funding

I am not sure of the answer, but with all the talk of cutting funding to the NEA and other arts organizations, I wanted to take the moment to attempt to define the problem, at least as I see it.

First, the reason I believe that arts are an important is that the arts are the place in our culture where innovation happens. Within the conversations of art we can start conversations about family, politics, social problems and outrageous, innovative solutions. The arts serve as a venue where the common man can stand up and be heard.

It has been said that "the arts are the flower of a free society." This isn't just a pretty metaphor, it's a perfect, detailed one. A plant doesn't flower unless it is healthy. The arts can't flourish unless society is free. If the arts start to die, it is probably a sign that we are becoming less free and independent thinkers.

The arts also parallel the biological function of a flower in that the arts are the place where our society reproduces, where new ideas are born and grow. These new ideas may not seem practical in the moment, but those same, freely expressed ideas are the ones that inspire the innovation, individualism and free expression that continue to make our country a leader in the global economy.

It is for these reasons that I understand the arts to be vitally important to the survival of our society. It is for these reasons, I believe, that since the ancient Greeks, major governments have made it a point to support artists and the arts.

Conservatism is defined by a desire to keep things as they are or as they have been. Conservatives generally desire for progress and change to occur as slowly as possible, and desire to maintain the status quo. The flowering of new ideas, voicing of radical opinions and exploration of controversial topics that the arts inspire work directly against the desires of conservatism.

I am not suggesting that the majority of conservative Republicans in our government are conspiring to stomp out speech, innovation, exploration and change (though in doing so they are preserving the power of the current elite, which could be seen as serving their interests).  I do believe however that those conservative decision makers lack an understanding that the arts have these powers. Conservative politicians are likely to have come from conservative families. More than likely they would not have been exposed to the kind of art that creates real and positive change. When they think of artists, the mental pathway has not been laid for them to logically connect the art of the moment to the social movement, entrepreneur or political activist it will eventually lead to. Unless we are taught to see it, there is no direct visual evidence to show a casual, one time observer, that this slam poet, fringe theatre company, dance concert, photographer or choral group is vital to the everyday operation of our society. And so a conservative politician confronted with  a budget crisis does what any of us would do, they cut the things that appear most indulgent and unnecessary.

So the problem we are faced with is, how do we access a group of people, whose basic approach to the world is to avoid change, and convince them to continue to support an institution that serves to provide the change and the progress that our society requires to survive.

I don't have an answer yet, but I feel that framing the question this way gives me a better grasp of the situation. "They don't understand" is no help; "these are the specific things I need them to learn and understand" is much more productive, and I feel that if I continue to attack the problem from this angle, I am going to find a way to change minds.

Proppeople.com

Hey everyone, just a quick note to let people know they should check out the prop people discussion forum.
The site (a part of the delphi forums site) had fallen pretty dead in the last year or two, but it looks as if Eric Hart (who write his own props blog at props.eric-hart.com) has taken over the project and is trying to get it up and running again. Here's hoping it's a success and we will again have a productive forum for asking questions, finding rentals, and sharing tricks.

And thanks Eric for taking on the challenge.

How theatre changes the world

I believe that arts can change the world. That is why I do what I do (besides having a ton of fun doing it). I believe that the arts are important. After a conversation with a friend tonight though I have decided that there is a need for me to further articulate that idea. It is no good for me (and my fellow artists) to just talk about whether arts make a difference; we have to specify how  they make a difference.

The scientific basis for my thoughts comes from a psychological research tool called an implicit association test (or IAT). These tests ask people to group sets of words as quickly as possible. For example I just took an IAT that asked me to click the "e" if I was presented with a "male" word (father, son, uncle, boy, etc.) and the "i" key if I was presented with a "female" word (mother, daughter, aunt, girl, etc. ). I was then presented with a series of words that were either liberal arts or sciences. Finally I was asked to do the two sets of words in conjunction; press "i" for male or science and "e" for female or liberal arts. Later the combinations were switched with female and science grouped together and male grouped with liberal arts. The idea is that by measuring how quickly I complete each task and how many mistakes I make, assumptions can be drawn about how closely I associate women with the arts and men with the sciences. In other words, to reveal my subconscious prejudices. This gender study is only one of many IATs looking into opinions about race, ethnicity, age, culture, sexuality and lots of other cultural markers. If you would like to learn more about these tests, or take a few, you should check out Project Implicit.

In one of my classes in college (I can't seem to recall which specifically) we were discussing implicit association tests and the professor told us a story of a man who took a test on race and was upset at his results. The results told him that he had a strong association of Caucasian with good and African American with bad. He took IAT over and over again trying to improve his results and had no luck. Then one day the results changed, and his score improved. In reflecting on what could have changed that day to alter his score he noted that he had spent most of the day watching the Olympics. All day long he had been seeing positive images of African American athletes overcoming challenges, working hard and succeeding. After that influence it was much more natural for his brain to associate African American with good when he was asked to do so.

I believe that arts can change the world because art can change people, but I don't think this change happens radically or quickly or even noticeably (at least in most cases).  I think the arts change people by exposing them to new ideas, foreign places, and unknown cultures. I believe and hope that the people who come see the productions that I am a part of, leave with just a little more understanding of the people and cultures and ideas that piece of theatre explored. I doubt that the change would be dramatic enough that the people in the audience would notice it, but if their metaphoric IAT score changed by just a point or two, that's progress.

My vision of a better world is based on the golden rule of treating others as you would like to be treated. I believe that treating others with respect comes from tolerance of difference, and tolerance comes from knowledge, and knowledge comes from exposure. The theatre is a place where we can be exposed to foreign ideas in a safe environment. Hopefully, eventually, that exposure leads to more tolerance worldwide and the ability to work together with respect and kindness to create a better world.

Finding your motivation

Once upon a time I was working at a theatre that was in a super time crunch. We had three giant musicals (All Shook Up, Joseph...Dreamcoat and Thoroughly Modern Millie) back to back to back. Everyone was stressed and overworked, but the schedule was particularly hitting the costume shop hard.

One day discussion in the costume shop turned to motivation. "I am motivated by fear" the costume designer said, "the more scared I am, the faster and harder I work."
"I am motivated by praise," the shop manager replied, "I like feeling like my hard work is recognized and appreciated, it keeps me moving forward."
"I am motivated by rewards" said the sticher, "I like the trade off of 'do this and you will get that.'"

The next day I walked into the costume shop and, after days of seeing these three women tired and cranky and hopeless, they were having a great time. And more importantly for all of them, they were all three working at a ridiculous speed. As they were working they were motivating each other.

To the designer they would call out, "Hurry, this show is never going to get done. The actors and the director will hate the costumes and you will never be hired back again."
"You're doing a great job," they would tell the shop manager, "I can't believe you finished those fitting notes so quickly, we are so lucky to have someone like you."
And for the stitcher, "Did you finish those hems? Good job. Here's a piece of candy."

The whole scene was hysterical, the costume shop took it all in a very joking manner, but I think that in the middle of their stress-induced joking, they hit on something very important. It is very useful to know what motivates you and take advantage of that.

Over time I have discovered that I am motivated by progress. I like to be able to see exactly how much I have accomplished. One way I have found to use this motivation is by making lists, and making them very detailed. I find it very satisfying to cross something off my list, so I have started to break tasks down into small manageable chunks.

There is nothing worse than working all day on something and still not being able to cross something off my list. I get discouraged and tend to feel as if "I got nothing done today." If I break down the job though, I can cross off, "buy supplies," and "measure and mark lumber" even if I don't get to cross "build table" from my list. The visible progress helps me feel motivated to keep pressing forward.

(blog post, check)

Take your Breaks

"Embrace your breaks" was a lesson that one of my professors tried very hard to teach me in college, and it is one I constantly try to learn, and one that I constantly struggle with.
In this business, he would explain to me, there will be times when things are insane, when you go weeks working 15 or 18 hour days, hardly see your friends or family, and don't even have time to clean your home, do laundry or cook a decent meal.
There will be other times when you have nothing to do, no pressing concerns and no upcoming deadlines. You have a choice in the down times. You can let them stress you out, spending all of your time trying to find projects, worrying over small details; or you can relax. Take the time off to do things you have been missing. Make time to hang out with friends, sleep in, cultivate your interests outside theatre, enjoy life.
I find myself feeling guilty because I know other people are working. My boyfriend leaves for work at 6:45 every morning. When I am in one of my busy periods I tend to leave with him, or soon after. Today I slept in until 8:15 and I was feeling horribly guilty about it. I should have been doing something with that time, right?
The truth is no. From the beginning of September through the third week of November I worked my butt off. I opened 8 shows in 10 weeks, hardly saw my friends and family, ate most of my meals on the run and worked until 10pm most nights. Sleeping in is exactly what I should have been doing. And if I slept until noon that still would be okay (though I don't think my body would let me do it). This business asks a lot from you and takes a lot out of you during the crunch times. If you don't embrace the down times you will burn out.
I worked with someone in the summer of 2006 who predicted my burn-out. "There's no way you keep going like this," he told me, "you are going to burn-out hardcore. I give you five years tops." There have been times I have worried he was right. There have been times when I kept going just to prove him wrong (which I admit is silly, I doubt he even remembers the conversation), and there are times like this morning when I know he was right. Not that I am planning on quitting, but times when I realize it's not that I can't keep going and have a long and successful life in the theatre; it's that I can't keep going like this. I have to take my downtime. Find ways to relax. Spend time with my family and friends. Embrace the things that are important to me outside of work. Sleep in if I feel like it. The crunch times will come again soon enough.

Props awards

Recently I have had multiple discussions with people about the lack of recognition and awards for props. The conversations usually start when someone I am working with has the sudden realization, "They don't award a Jeff for props do they?" The answer is no, they don't. I have talked to many props masters that don't want to be recognized. They believe that if someone notices the props, then they aren't blending in well enough and they aren't doing their job. On some shows I can agree with that idea, but I have worked on other shows where the props were central, I worked incredibly hard on them, did work that I was proud of, and would love to have the chance to be acknowledged.

Right in the middle of this series of discussions, Eric Hart put up an article about the same subject over on his props blog, "Why is there no Tony Award for props?" Apparently this is on more people's minds than just mine.

I acknowledge that to an outside observer it can be sometimes hard to discern what is props, and what is scenery (who selected/designed the furniture for example), but with all the crossover between all areas of design in collaborative theatre we still manage to separate out the other categories.

Recently, I have to admit that I have become more offended when reviews and playbills fail to list me as a designer. I was treated as a designer all the way through the rehearsal process, until credit was given for the work. I attended design meetings, was asked to give a design presentation at the first rehearsal, went to the designer runs of the show, sat through tech and dress rehearsals and previews and took notes with the designers, and then when the program was put together I was not listed with the designers, instead I am listed as staff.

This is not just a Chicago thing, as Eric Hart researched in his article, he could not find a single awards show in the country that acknowledges props.

I am, of course, terribly biased on this subject. Everyone would like to see their work recognized, but there are no awards for stage managers, production managers or technical directors either.

I'd love to know what you think.