No. 6

It has been a week now on tour. The first real one in this job. I have done some stage managing back in Hamburg since the season started, but nothing quite like this. That show felt manageable. This one feels like it has teeth.

The setup is different down here in the south. At home, I have one clean intercom system. I can speak to light, music, and stage through a single line. There is a light signal system too, so I can talk to the guys flying things in and out without shouting across the wings. Here on tour, I have two walkie-talkies, one belt-pack intercom, and what feels like seven arms. I have to mentally rehearse which button connects me to which department before I speak, or I end up calling an ambulance when I meant to ask for the curtain.

And it is tiring. The kind of tiring that starts before the show even opens. In the first three days, I clocked over 35 hours. So by the time we actually get to the performances, you are already whacked. I always imagined it the other way round—that I would be fresh for the shows, and then slowly work down into that good kind of exhaustion. But no. Here, it is the reverse. You burn first, then perform.

Still, I love it. That has not changed. There are some things I will not go into here, private things, mainly financial. But I will say this: working closely with someone like John Neumeier, even now, is something that keeps me sharp. I worked with him for over a decade as a dancer, but this is different. As stage manager, the contact is more direct, more constant. Every cue, every scene shift, it all matters in a different way. And when you believe in the work, when you believe it is good, you care about the smallest of timings. You feel it in your bones if it was off.

I still try to make something poetic out of it. Even if no one sees it but me. A scene change is never just a scene change. It is a rhythm, a choice, a gesture. That keeps me feeling like myself. Like I am still an artist, even in a job people would call technical.

We go into week two now. I am nervous for November, big productions, no rehearsals but we will get through it. We always do. At some point I will write more about No Snow in May again. But right now, I am full with the thing that takes up most of my days. The thing that pays the bills. And the thing I still really care about.

Thanks for stepping in.

Song of the week:

Will He

by Joji