Celebrating the unsung heroes of live theatre

I know we are in the midst of holiday everything, and you, dear person who does not take this paper directly from your doorstep or driveway to your recycle bin or hamster cage, may expect more of the same. After all, this is the season when musicians are playing everywhere, actors and dancers are mounting huge holiday productions, writers are getting their books out there for stocking stuffers, and visual artists have visions of studios crowded with happy arts lovers.

However, let me take a moment to give you a non-Santa, decidedly un-Christmas, completely holiday-less column. No, I am not bah-humbugging the season. As an artist, it is one of the few times I can count on an audience eagerly joining in on events that I have invested untold hours to create. In fact, at the end of this column, I will list a few upcoming arts events you can attend to ramp up your holiday spirit.

But there have been a few recent events that I have either attended or been involved with that make me want to invest a column trumpeting the oft-overlooked stage manager. Everyone knows, or thinks they know, what a director, choreographer, and musical director does in preparing and presenting a live performance. But what does a stage manager do?

The role of a stage manager is to be the sober second thought of the director. That’s right, a stage manager is like a senator — but not necessarily old, not appointed due to patronage, and definitely not in it just for the paycheck and pension. Okay, so not like a senator at all. So, what does an SM do?

A good SM sits at all rehearsals and takes copious notes. While the director is working with the cast, the SM writes down all of the blocking cues so the cast (and the director) remembers from one rehearsal to the next what they agreed to try. This is done with a pencil because, for a variety of reasons, blocking — which, by the way, is simply “planned movement on stage” — changes throughout a rehearsal schedule.

Unlike the director, who should be a visionary and willing to experiment to see if an idea works, the SM needs to be organized, regimented, logical, and precise. The SM is also responsible for the stage. They determine such things as when someone can go on stage, whether sets are safe, and look for tripping hazards with cables, carpets, and set pieces. Health and safety fall under their purview.

The SM is also like a union steward. They watch the time and remind the director when the cast needs a break and when the rehearsal is over. In most companies, the director can be in the middle of a thought with the cast, and when the SM says time is up, time is up. Why? I have been in shows where the director had notes about the rehearsal that would have lasted longer than the actual rehearsal if not for an SM. While every syllable seems significant to some directors, the capacity to absorb that information has a law of diminishing returns.

In the final few weeks, the SM will refine blocking notes in the script as they become set. They also include lighting and sound cues, cast exits and entrance cues, and microphone cues if applicable.

When the band, cast, or company moves onto their performance space, the SM coordinates the transport of gear to the venue and oversees the assembly of sets, risers, or anything else that touches the stage. It is here where an SM truly manages the company. If the SM calls for everyone to stop, they are wise to do so immediately as there may be imminent danger. A truly talented SM has planned for success but is always watching for potential problems.

Then comes the actual performance, and this is where the director hands over the reins to the SM. The SM can be like a cop on patrol — a period of mundane accented by chaos and high stress as several cues overlap. Without the expert guidance of the SM, the show falls flat.

When I was SM for Theatre Sarnia’s production of *The Piano Lesson* with the very gifted director Henri Cannino several years ago, I had sound cues in blue tabs, lighting in yellow tabs, and music cues in red in my book. I had over 300 tabs in my script, and it was chaos at times.

My friend, the late Bob Murray, was a driving force behind the Lambton Law Society’s stage productions featuring local lawyers raising funds for charity. When I directed *Plaza Suite* for them, Bob was my SM. An incredibly intelligent and organized man, Plaza was his first and last time as an SM. During the opening night, Bob asked me to stay in the booth in case he needed assistance. After the show ended, he turned to me and said, “I have tried murder cases, been in front of the Supreme Court of Canada more than once, and doing this is the most stressful thing I have ever experienced.” For the next show I directed, Bob was in the cast.

So, the next time you attend a performance and it is mounted without a hitch, give a nod to the SM. They will be discreetly located at the back of the venue in a booth.

As promised — upcoming performances: