![]() |
|
![]() ![]()
![]() |
|
Editor's//Comment
All the Livelong Day
I recently performed in the stage band for a local theater company’s production of Working. Based on the writings of Studs Terkel, this show weaves musical threads into a tapestry that represents the lives of everyday working people. It provides insight into a variety of jobs: migrant workers, waitresses, stockbrokers, truckers — even the paper boy. The “mason’s” song spoke to taking pride in one’s workmanship; the song by the “teacher” gave me frightening flashbacks to third grade.
It’s good to get perspective once in a while. Like the dangers faced by firefighters, police, and construction workers, to name only a few. Sure, I commute on California freeways, which presents its own share of dangers, but really, my biggest concern for safety is getting paper cuts (although the ones caused by manila folders can be pretty wicked).
Although there wasn’t a fiddle part per se (which never seems to stop me), I was able to improvise and mirror other parts. There was even a section in the synthesizer score for the opening number with the notation “Disco Strings” — think Shaft and a spinning mirrored ball. Funk on the fiddle — that was a fun number. And I got a chance to play the mandolin on one folksy piece, backing up a “millworker” with a strong, poignant voice.
Actually, this show probably had the most consistently solid cast of the many shows I’ve been in or accompanied. Strong voices, good blend, nicely performed, night in and night out. These are college students and community members who simply love to act, sing, and dance — all corralled by a talented and enthusiastic director, and coached by an equally qualified musical director. They do these shows because it’s their passion. But no matter that they approach rehearsals (mostly) and performances with integrity and professionalism, they are still volunteers.
Which is why I was dismayed and dumbfounded when the choreographer launched a caustic attack on the cast during the intermission of one of the shows. His vitriolic tirade came out of the blue; until that point everyone was feeling good about the performance. When his tantrum was done there was a mixture of shock and anger — and more than a few tears. Some had their confidence crushed, others felt betrayed. Fortunately, a few of the veteran performers stepped up and led the way so the second act came off surprisingly well, all things considered.
This is not to say that, at many points during rehearsal and even after a performance, a cast does not require some constructive criticism. Even some pointed direction. Maybe a dash of guilt. But this action was mean-spirited, ill-timed, and mis-directed. And not once did the choreographer offer any useful, objective criticism.
Here’s my point: I’ve had many notes from readers over the years about what they want from asp.netPRO. Sure, I’ve been flamed, but I try to pick out the objective, constructive feedback, no matter how inappropriately delivered. And although some have been incoherent rants, for the most part the letters have been clear, thoughtful, and respectful. I appreciate the constructive and objective feedback. After all, you are the ones in the trenches; you know what you need. So please, keep the feedback coming. Just remember — you can be critical, but be constructive.
Thanks for reading.
David Riggs is editor-in-chief of asp.netPRO and its companion e-newsletter, asp.netNOW. Reach him at mailto:driggs@informant.com.
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||