Week 22: A Tempestuous Tech
September 14, 2012
30 March 2012
Ariel flies
I walked into the theatre to everyone staring upwards. Sandy Grierson (who plays Ariel) was harnessed and suspended from the lighting rig, waiting to be dropped bungee-style from the sky. Stage Technicians Julian Cosgrove and Craig Almond were also harnessed to the rig to put Sandy in position and ensure his safety in the maneuver. Julian operates the pulley system, Craig secures Sandy's harnesses. On the first go, Sandy was brought down slowly. Then, a bit quicker. Then, at full speed.
Communication was key at this point in the process, with David (in the auditorium) speaking to Stage Manager Heidi Lennard (stage right), who communicated to the entire crew throughout the theatre on walkie-talkies (called cans). It gets tricky, sometimes, for the actors because it can feel like there is nobody speaking to you.
In Sandy's case this feeling was heightened, because he has no control over the move. He's placed in the harness and then hovers in the air above stage, waiting Julian to receive a signal from stage management to release the pulley mechanism. It requires trust that is not built overnight. It was no surprise everyone was on edge.
Finally at full speed with lights, sound and pyrotechnics Sandy dropped two stories proclaiming 'You are three men of sin!' (III. iii. 53.)
Spirits persevere
The spirits found ourselves in the glass box centerpiece of the set, clothed in semi-transparent silver suits, lit from below by a grid of disco lights, feeling a bit like five members from S-Club 7.
Designer Jon Bausor sensed we were all feeling self-conscious in the scenario, and (I think) tried to help when he said to Sandy:
'Don't worry; it's not finished. We're gonna put a ruff around your neck and a boat on your head.'
Not comforting.
He then looked at me and said, 'You look too cool, so we're gonna paste your hair down with clay.'
I thought he was talking about a hair product. He meant wet dirt.
When I returned to stage covered in the crusty bits of earth, he said, 'Yeah, it looks better when it's more like Charlie Chaplin.'
I'm not sure what I wanted to hear at this moment. 'Charlie Chaplin' was not it. But I was too tired to put up a fight. I was also suspicious they were filming a particularly sordid episode of Candid Camera starring me.
'If this were played upon the stage now, I could condemn it as improbable fiction.'
(Twelfth Night. III. iv. 123-124.)
Actors lose the plot
The Royal Shakespeare Theatre has a sub-stage area that is 30 feet deep. The crew has built a series of platforms and tunnels into this space that allow us to crawl underfoot undetected and then make entrances from holes in the stage. As a spirit, I spent most of The Tempest technical rehearsals awaiting my entrances from this netherworld.
During one such wait, fellow Spirit Sarah Belcher and I became engrossed in a whispered conversation. Five minutes later, having heard no cues to enter, we noticed that everything had gone quiet. Doing my best mole impression, I appeared onstage from below, squinting as my eyes became accustomed to the light. There were only three people in the auditorium.
'Have we broken for tea?' I inquired. Director David Farr asked 'How many of you are down there?' Sarah appeared from substage. 'I'm so sorry!' spluttered Heidi. 'It's only been five minutes, take a full 15-minute break,' added Deputy Stage Manager Nina Scholar.
Sarah and I climbed out of our holes, and left for our break in tired, bemused chuckles.
Photo by Felix Hayes: Ankur Bahl in technical rehearsals for The Tempest.
by Ankur Bahl
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