a day in the life of a theatre

Looking forward to an enchanted evening at the theatre? Easy, right? Just buy a ticket. Then, leave the rest to scores of people behind the scenes and at the front of house whose jobs are to make something so maddeningly complex seem so seamlessly carefree. In addition to the actors (and understudies) and musicians on stage for the Royal Alexandra's latest show, Rock of Ages, toss in the musical director, the production stage room manager, the stage manager and staff, including dressers who perform rapid-fire costume changes during the performance backstage, the sound and lighting crews, the fellow who operates the confetti machine, the head of wardrobe, the wigs mistress and the props master.


That's just the backstage contingent.
At the front of house, throw in the box office staff, the manager, her assistant, 40 bartenders and ushers, the cleaning staff and the maintenance team. Add in the suppliers of beer, ice, and other supplies, from confetti to toilet paper. Then, all it takes is a daylong series of carefully choreographed moves to ensure everything unfolds like clockwork, from the early morning cleanup to the evening's closing curtain and turning out the marquee lights at 11 p.
m.
The Star recently sent in a team of reporters to find out just how it all comes together. 8:20 a.m. Inside the main theatre, all is eerily quiet as members of the cleaning staff go about their work, recycling programs, picking up litter, finding things like discarded ear plugs, which, for a show like Rock of Ages, a musical comedy featuring hair-metal tunes from the 1980s, may be a must for some guests. "It takes about six hours to clean up the theatre," says cleaning supervisor Jason Barros.
"Beyond just the main theatre cleanup, we have to do a lot of special things just because of the age of the building, like polishing all of the brass." Though the work can seem like drudgery, Barros is content. "I love this place. It's amazing to work in a building with such history.
You can see it everywhere and feel it all around you." 8:45 a.m. A clanking from behind the darkened stage announces the arrival of Patrick Campbell of Nitrogen Services. Wearing gloves and ear plugs, he's transporting a gas-filled canister on a dolly to refill the carbon dioxide tank backstage for the evening show.
The CO2 fuels the smoke machines used during the performance to enhance the lighting. 9:15 a.m. Theatre manager Ron Jacobsen (who is responsible for all Mirvish Productions properties) sits in his office, just off the main lobby, with all-purpose maintenance guys Tony Lopez and Barry Andrews as they prepare the required weekly fire test. Andrews leaves to set off one of the "pull stations" and Jacobsen and Lopez monitor the main panel in the lobby of the theatre to ensure the alarm is detected.
"Since 1963, we have never had to evacuate the theatre due to a fire emergency," Jacobsen says. "We have cancelled some performances midway due to power outages." 9:45 a.m. An envelope arrives with metal name tags for Adrienne Merrell, a new addition to the cast in the role of Regina, a hippie who wants to save portable the endangered rock 'n' roll Bourbon Room nightclub.
She is set to begin performances the following week, and Actors Equity union rules requires the names of all performers to posted in the main lobby. 10:15 a.m. Andrews is using a putty knife to plaster a hole in the wall by the stage door. "The maintenance . . . is constant. This building has to be beautiful, but the trick is finding the time.
For smaller repairs, we just go and do them, but for bigger jobs, it requires scheduling, like the week off between shows." After two years on the job, Andrews — unlike some of his colleagues — still feels the magic of the theatre. "These guys are all jaded. To them, it's just another show. I actually still like to go and actually watch (the performance)," Andrews says.
But "you've got to play it real cool," he adds with a laugh. "In this show, sometimes the girls are backstage and are practically naked. I mean, there's a scene where they play hookers, so us guys are walking by .
.
.
and it's like you have to be, 'Nothing to see here, all in day's work.' " 10:30 a.m. The Beer Store delivery truck room arrives for pickup and delivery. A six-metre-long corridor is stacked high with cases of empty beer bottles as the new stocks are brought in.
"This show is for beer drinkers.
It's at least 100 cases a week," Andrews says. 11:30 a.m. The marquee lights are turned on and rock tunes begin playing on the speakers outside the theatre. Box office manager George King is getting ready to open up.
The office is small, so space is tight for the staff of four as they prepare tickets and get ready to serve the diminishing number of "walk-up" customers in the age of Internet sales. 12 p.m. "The theatre really starts to wake up around noon," notes John Gray, the production stage manager. The box office is officially open and tech crews are on stage, checking microphones, cables and other equipment.
Gray has opened the cast dressing rooms and spoken with the sound crew in preparation for a full technical rehearsal because of the addition of Merrell to the cast. Understudies will play the main roles during the rehearsal with Merrell, the only cast member in full costume. 12:10 p.m. Guy Gualteri prepares the confetti machine.
(See sidebar.
) 12:15 p.
m.
Sound checks begin in earnest, with musicians playing brief snatches to ensure the audio system and sound boards are working. "This is considered a roadhouse. Every show has to bring in their own sound and lights," says Henry Zmijak, head of the theatre's sound crew. A few minutes later, Zmijak pronounces, "So far, so good.
" 12:30 p.
m.
Merrell is in her dressing room, hair tied up and applying makeup when Helen Gregor, the head of wigs, arrives with a headdress of long, red curls, similar to Merrell's natural colour. Gregor is responsible for 17 wigs. Earlier in the day, she had washed and sized Merrell's hairpiece. As she fits it, she warns Merrell it might still be a little wet.
She makes a few additional adjustments before pinning it. "Does that feel secure?" Gregor asked. Merrell nods her approval. 12:45 p.m. Cast members begin to arrive at the theatre for the technical rehearsal. There's a buzz of conversation in the dressing room area as actors chat with one another.
Cody Scott Lancaster, who plays Franz, the son of an anti-rock portable German developer, is sending an email in his dressing room, which looks a bit like a high school locker, walls covered with personalizing pictures and notes. "We all have to sign in on the board by the backstage door when we arrive," Lancaster says. "I like to get in a bit early and just relax and prepare.
We're doing a rehearsal today, and then we'll break for dinner, and again, we have to sign in before tonight's performance." The sign-in sheet is the master list that ensures all the actors have arrived. 12:55 p.m. Cast members mill about on stage, waiting for the rehearsal to begin.
Dance captain Valerie Stanois, who also understudies a few roles, sings "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" while she does the splits. 1 p.m . Gray works with Merrell on blocking two scenes. 1:20 p.m. Gray calls the full company on stage and begins to go through instructions before introducing Merrell to the company.
"Here is our new Regina," Gray says as the cast and crew applaud. "This is what we call a 'put-in,' " explains David R. Keeley. "We are literally putting in a new cast member.
We've been doing this show for months, so at this stage, we normally wouldn't do a full stage rehearsal, but today, really it's for her (Merrell) so she can do with the show with all the tech, lights and the full band." Gray offers Merrell some words of encouragement: "Have fun along the way. Bless your heart. We'll see you at the end." 1:30 p.m. The lights go down and the technical rehearsal begins to an audience of eight.
Gray has a seat about five rows back and takes notes during the performance. "I'm watching everything (Merrell's) doing," he says. "I'm also watching the understudies. I'm quality control." 1:45 p.m. Musical director Bob Foster is sitting in the second row.
(He plays keyboards during the evening performance). He's also taking notes. "I'll probably have 10 pages of notes by the time the show is over. But of course, half the stuff, the audience wouldn't catch at all.
" 2:35 p.
m.
The first act is complete, and there's a 20-minute break for cast and crew. Many goes downstairs in the diner-themed Green Room to grab a snack and relax before returning to rehearse the second act. 3:23 p.m. Gray gets to his feet as Carson Nattrass steps forward to sing a solo.
Nattrass, an understudy, will play Lonny tonight for only the second time, in lieu of Aaron Walpole, who has lost his voice. Gray is checking Nattrass's position on the stage to see that his feet are where they're supposed to be. "These rehearsals can be valuable for members of company to explore, 'What if you do something totally different? What do your instincts tell you to try?' " Gray says.
4:30 p.
m.
Rehearsal is over.
4:37 p.
m.
Gray stops by Merrell's dressing room to compliment her on her performance, then pops in to see Helen Gregor to praise her for the wig Merrell wears as Regina. Gregor's fourth-floor office looks like the back room of a hair salon — wigs of various shapes and sizes, a hairdresser sink stained with dye, and hairpins, curlers and brushes everywhere. 4:50 p.m. Elizabeth Morales, the front-of-house manager, arrives, followed a minute later by head bartender Ari Leponiemi.
5 p.
m.
It's the dinner break for cast and crew, until 6:30. 5:01 p.m. Solana Cain, who is on popcorn duty, pops into work. 5:59 p.m. Security guard Louis Rebela, a 16-year veteran, greets the cast and crew as they trickle in.
His duties include dealing with fans and autograph seekers outside the stage door. "Sometimes they get very aggressive after the show," Rebela says of the enthusiasts. "They're not allowed too close to the door.
We have one fan who has seen this show 22 times already. She saw We Will Rock You 100 times." A monitor in his office is focused on the main entrance as customers begin to line up for the rush seats, 22 of which are offered through a lottery at a discount for each performance. 6:17 p.m. Lisa McGregor and her 7-year-old son Conor are hoping for rush tickets for tonight's performance.
Conor has seen the show before but his mother hasn't. "If we don't get in, we're going to the CN Tower," she says. 6:30 p.m. Adrianne Briere and Brian Boggs arrive and join the rush line.
At 7:20 p.
m.
, their names are drawn and called out.
"It's a lot of fun," said Briere, who is coming for the second time. "I'm a child of the 80s." 6:31 p.m. Zmijak begins to check the sound from each of the more than 100 speaker in the theatre, while his crew puts freshly charged batteries in all the cast microphones. Sound effects are also tested. Head electrician John Still tests the lights.
Propmaster Rick Asby lays out all the items he's responsible for — liquor bottles, cigarettes and dollar bills — where they belong. "(Actors) have enough to do with their lines and where to be," says Asby, a 45-year veteran at the Royal Alex. "Once I learn all my cues, it's fun for me.
" 7:04 p.
m.
Assistant head of wardrobe Stephen Hupman is doing laundry, on the speed-wash setting. Costumes are all laundered in-house, because some actors are sensitive to chemicals and the theatre can't take the risk that a commercial dry cleaner might destroy or lose a crucial item. T-shirts, socks and underwear go in the dryer; everything else is air-dried.
After ironing and sorting, Hupman distributes the clothes to the actors' dressing rooms. 7:30 p.m. The front doors open. Ticket holders can go straight to their seats or dawdle over a refreshment in the lobby, in the side rooms on the main floor or in the basement lounge. Behind the curtain, stage manager Chris Porter turns off the lights and uses a paging mike to warn the ushers to get ready to receive the audience: "The house is open! The house is open!" Up in his third-floor dressing room, actor Peter Deiwick is applying five fake tattoos, listening to music and eating a sandwich.
Makeup and wig department staff flit among the dressing rooms, making final adjustments. 7:45 p.m. Backstage, the 15-minute call goes out. Assistant stage manager Kathleen Harrison collects wallets, iPods and other valuables from the cast and locks them safely away until after the show. "It seems archaic, but it's a good opportunity to check in with people, to see how they're feeling," Gray says.
Dressers, all wearing black so the audience can't see them in the wings, assemble backstage to help with costume changes. Many of the dressers wear miner's lights strapped to their heads, to keep their hands free to work in the dark. 7:55 p.m. The five-minute bell tolls. 7:57 p.m. The three-minute bell. 7:59 p.m. The one-minute bell. 8:02 p.m. As the performance is set to begin, actors are warming up, creating a dull roar backstage that is muted by batting and by music playing in the theatre.
8:03 p.
m.
The band begins.
8:05 p.
m.
The curtain opens and the performance starts. 8:11 p.m. Latecomers, bunched in the lobby, are allowed in, escorted to their seats by ushers. Bianca Galati, 16, and five friends are among them.
"Traffic.
It was a little crazy getting down here," says Galati, whose dad bought the tickets. 9:12 p.m. Intermission for 20 minutes. It's the busiest time for bar staff. Kim and Paul Murray of Newcastle are among the crowd in the downstairs lounge. "We just came down for a night out," Kim says.
Tim Young from Milton is holding drinks in both hands. He and his wife came with three other couples. "We went for dinner and we're enjoying the show.
We know all of the songs.
" Bartender Phil Hynes, who has been working in the downstairs lounge for 2½ years, says serving in a theatre is "an easier, dumbed-down version" of working in a pub. "Very simple drinks, very simple beer orders, nothing really too complex. The rushes are not that big of a deal because they're only 20 minutes or so, whereas you can be in big rushes for close to half an hour or 45 minutes if you're at a busy pub.
" Morgan Naismith's job is a little more challenging: he provides seat service throughout the performance, a job that keeps him hopping. "Friday's always crazy," Naismith says. "Fridays and Saturdays. People are here, they're ready to party. It all goes kinda pretty quickly." 10:35 p.m. All bartenders and staff are expected to have their workstations cleaned up and cleared, to turn over cash floats to the front-of-house manager and to cash out. That includes Cain, who serves popcorn and beer from a concession stand in the main lobby.
"People came hungry for popcorn.
I ran a little low at one point and had to pop and pour beer at the same time. I burned my hand on the popper. When you get a little close, it burns. There was a woman who wanted to taste it (popcorn) before she bought, and put her hand right in and had some," Cain says. "It was a pretty decent night, no 911 calls that we had to deal with," says Leponiemi, the head bartender.
10:35 p.
m.
The show ends and, for the next 25 minutes, the cast and crew change and depart. Lead performer Yvan Pedneault is greeted outside by fans seeking autographs. 11:02 p.m. Morales locks the front doors and turns out the lights.
The Royal Alex is closed.
The science of confetti Confetti is one of those simple things that becomes more complicated when its used in the theatre. First off, for Rock of Ages, it's not the multi-coloured holes punched from regular paper that one expects. "It's has be fireproof," explains Tony Lopez, a member of the theatre's maintenance crew.
"So it's made out of nylon or Mylar.
" Each piece is a quarter-inch wide, which they've learned works better than bigger pieces. "In We Will Rock You, they used half-inch pieces, and it burned out two vacuum cleaners during the show's run." Guy Gualteri is in charge of loading the makeshift confetti gun, which is a long, straight tube with a pressurized carbon dioxide canister attached.
He puts the canister at the bottom end of the tube so it acts like a stopper, then loads up the ammunition — the confetti — through the top. "You've got to kind of dance with it," he says, swirling the tube around while holding it between his thumb and forefinger, trying to pack as many of the paper bits into the tube as he can. After he's done, he walks up to the side second-floor balcony, where the gun is used in the show.
That's where actor David R.
Keeley finds it every night, and lets loose on the audience. "It's easy as pie. I just grab it, pop the CO2 and let her rip. I'm just glad I don't have to deal with the

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