Some schools call it “Hell Week.” I don’t like that term. “Hell” is what took place in the 9 weeks before now. (Well, that, and last night.)
Sartre said, “Hell is other people.” I won’t go there right now, or there’ll be a rant. (In fact, I just deleted five huge sentences.) Suffice it to say that some people think they’re funny as it, and it makes me wonder if there’s a special place reserved there for them. You know the kind I’m talking about.
More on that another day, fo sho. But back to production week.
As I type this, my stomach gets all ooky. And the heck of it is, the anxiety usually centers around stuff I can’t change.
Production week for me entails thoughts and worries about:
- what’s still wrong and how it can be fixed
- things I have to let go of because they can’t be fixed in time for the opening
- how many details I need to tie up, and feeling that there is at least one gargantuan “thing” I’ve forgotten to address
- cuts in the score about which I may have failed to inform the players in the pit
- in this case (since I’m playing), getting my own part right
- most importantly, giving our audiences the quality they’ve come to expect (this is the biggy)
But, like heaven and earth, this too shall pass away. Thirteen days. Thirteen days.
I’m not afraid of Hell. I’ve lived in Hackensack.
Here’s your mantra: It’s all good. It’s all good.
Break a leg!
I can’t imagine the pressure of putting on one of these shows but, I have to say that each one I’ve attended, has NEVER disappointed me!! It all comes together in the end, luv. Once opening night is here, all the kids get in the right mindset and say, “Ok, let’s bring it!” And they do! I can’t wait to see it this weekend!
Hang in there. Just keep thinking, 14 more days….14 more days….
It’s a wonder that after all these years of you stressing just for everyone involved to pull off an amazing show, you haven’t gotten to a point where you skip the stressing part.
Haha — it’s obvious you’ve yet to direct your first show.