When I heard that we could put on a play in place of taking our finals,
I almost literally jumped at the chance. With a few likeminded classmates, we
put together a list of plays to choose from. Because of the number of people in
our group, the plays in our textbook were all out of the question, so we had to
look elsewhere, and in the end, our list consisted mainly of classics, such as
Oedipus Rex and our final choice, The Seagull.
A core team of director (i.e. me) and playwrights was quickly put
together, and the playwrights went to work right away on adapting the original
play to suit our level and time constraint. Upon receiving the adaptations of
the four acts, I could perceive immediately the four playwrights’ different
styles . . . . With the stageplay ready, we picked out a few key lines to use
for casting – it was a tough process, but we managed to nail all of the parts,
and I personally feel that no actor was miscast. (Unfortunately, at this point,
one of our team members decided to withdraw.)
We were lucky enough to be able to find a time when all of us were free
for rehearsals, and on the whole, they went quite smoothly . . . . Our first
priority in rehearsal was pronunciation, for even the best play can be undone
by muddled lines; after that, [we] fixed the actors’ positions and
ambulations; only then did we move on to their gesticulations.
After finishing rehearsal of the first act, however, some group members
proposed we enter the drama competition, and, after debates and voting, we
agreed to do so. Due to the competition’s short time limit, we were forced to
reduce the length of our stageplay; after two revisions, what materialized was
a three-act, twenty-five-page, skin-and-bones adaptation, minus one character.
I must admit, I was a bit complacent when, after the first revision, we only
exceeded the time limit by about three minutes: I thought we could just make it
by speaking faster, and delayed the ultimately required second revision by a
week, necessitating the actors re-memorizing their lines in around five days.
Fortunately, all of the lines came out smoothly and logically on the stage.
Managing such a large and diverse group of people was not easy . . . ,
and I was perpetually conscientious not to inadvertently step on that
[anyone]’s toes . . . . I decided early on to focus my energy on the actors
and let the production team manage themselves – I merely specified what props
and scenery were needed and let them be. With so many stageplay revisions, this
proved to be the right decision, and, not knowing just what to expect, I was
blown away by what the production team had accomplished. Not only was the
scenery beautiful and exhaustive (we even had to forgo some pieces due to
limited space on stage), the props were also intricate and innovative (they
eschewed ready-made items for homemade ones whenever possible).
Entering the drama competition posed new challenges for us: Besides
less stage time and more scenery, the performance date was moved up, so we had
less time to prepare; we also had to add some sounds and schematize lighting.
Not having done stage lighting before, all we had to base our efforts on was a
diagram of the lighting positions for the A/V Center stage. Each playwright
schematized her own act, with me doing act one instead of Jasmine in exchange
for her preparing all of the sound effects. The first opportunity we had to
calibrate our lighting was during the second stage rehearsal. I was in charge
of operating the lights, yet I found the lighting system newfangled and a bit
unlike what I had imagined. In fact, because of the aforementioned inexperience
with the actual lighting, each act’s scheme was composed according to a
differently imagined lighting system, so after the calibration of each act’s
lighting, I had to reset my paradigm to calibrate the next act’s. Added to the
chaos that prevailed onstage, I can unreservedly state that the entire thing
was a fiasco. I ended that night re-schematizing the lighting for the entire
play with the assistance of Cindy and a friend from the Drama Theater
Department.
Again, however, I could not finalize the new lighting scheme until I
once again had access to the actual lights – during the dress rehearsal on the
final day. By some miracle, we were able to finalize most of the lights and run
through all the scene changes within the allotted forty minutes (which was how
long our play was supposed to be); there were still a few small, exasperating
snags in the lighting scheme, though, which was why you could see some erratic
lighting changes during the actual performance.
On the day of the competition, time seemed to fly by faster than usual
– too fast. We were still moving the scenery from the Freshman Girls’ Dorm
when the time for dress rehearsal arrived, and I had no choice but to leave the
production team to sweat in the rain while we rehearsed. Consequently, our
final rehearsal lacked two doors and a tree, not to mention the background
tableau. Everything was eventually brought to the A/V Center, but, along the
way, the frame of one of the doors snapped in two, and the large tree lost all
of its leaves. While the actors were in makeup and Cindy, in her function as
co-director, was delegating tasks for scene changes, the production team had
their hands full making emergency repairs. It was only due to their
extraordinary efforts that we claimed the prize for Best Stage Design.
One lesson I took away from this whole project is this: When bent on a
certain goal, there comes a point beyond which “getting it perfect” has no
discernible advantage over “getting it right.” During the performance, there
were times when I would bite my fist or laugh in a self-deprecating manner –
times like when I missed a lighting cue; or an actor places the wrong stress on
a phrase we went over at least five times in rehearsal; or when the stage props
were just off the mark so that the lighting was a bit dim . . . .
Notwithstanding, I realized upon subsequent reflection that even if we had made
none of these gaffes, the overall effect would not have been much different;
the dominant atmosphere was thoroughly conveyed, and in the end, that was what
decided the judges’ opinions.
Another thought occurred to me during the post-production cleanup. We
were outside the A/V Center tearing up our scenery in preparation for disposal
when Tony Zhou from another group came and commented on our well-crafted and
numerous pieces of scenery. I later overheard him saying to his fellow actor
how he probably would have done the same thing in his first year. Obviously,
when deciding upon a play, we completely left out practicality considerations:
For a thirty-minute performance with a month-and-a-half-long window of
preparation, we should have chosen a play like Sure Thing, with little scenery
and a shorter stage time (of course, Sure Thing is too short and requires too
little manpower for our group of fourteen). Even without prior experience, this
is something we could have thought through more thoroughly. The same can be
said of our handling of the second stage rehearsal: I assumed we would go in,
run through the play, and come out knowing what our problems were and having a
basic idea of how to fix them. With twenty-twenty hindsight, that was very
naïve of me.
All in all, I learned a lot from heading this project. If I had not
taken Introduction to Leadership and Management last year, I would very likely
have micromanaged the whole affair, stressing out myself and the team. Instead,
I trusted in the theories I learned and allocated tasks according to each
person’s strengths – and then just let go. Naturally, given the fact that our
team was newly formed, I still had to tie up some loose ends from time to time,
but I am of the opinion that this type of management provided artistic freedom
and alleviated authoritative pressure, both in the same stroke. With these new
insights, I am raring at the chance to see what we can accomplish next year!