The Show Must Go On....A Stage Management Career.

So, first, the background part. I’ve loved the theatre for, oh, for forever. All the different groups you’d imagine, from concert parties got up to, ahem, entertain the town’s old folks to school groups cheerfully murdering Shakespeare. But in my teens, real life asserted itself in the form of school principals and their so called ‘careers advisers who told me no, what you have to do is study hard and get a ‘proper’ job. Theatre didn't count as a proper job by any stretch. Listening to their talking heads instead of following my whispering heart, that’s what I did for years, resigning myself to my real love never being more than a part-time lover….a sideline to whatever ‘proper’ job I happened to be doing.

Until the ‘proper job’ fell apart. And my life changed forever. Word got out. The phone started to ring. ‘I hear you’re free right now….’ ‘As you’re not working, would you have time to….?’ Almost by accident, I was working in the theatre. A 'proper' job....?

In my theatre-as-just-a-hobby years, I’d drifted away from the on-stage lights, curious to know what really went on in that mysterious, cavernous world backstage. Never a ‘sing up, Louise’ kind of kid at heart, I’d discovered that being in the limelight interested me less than how that limelight worked. How DID the show actually go on? I’d learned how by absorbing as much as I could, graduating from working for fun and the price of a drink in small, ill-equipped halls with no more than four black walls and a couple of stands to clips lamps on, to bigger theatres with all the bells and whistles. The crews in those places had become my friends, and now they pushed opportunity after amazing opportunity my way. I grabbed every single one, until the day I found myself on the train to London, wondering how I’d had the gall to answer an ad in The Stage for a Deputy Stage Manager….and how on earth I’d been granted an interview…..

That’s how I discovered my dream job. The role of Deputy Stage Manager is a very precise one. I’ll call her ‘she’ just for simplicity, but there are as many ‘he’ DSMs as ‘she.’ Step into any rehearsal room, and you’ll spot her. She’s the one joined like a Siamese twin to the book.

The book IS the show. It consists of the script of the play set into a loose-leaf folder. If it’s a musical, it’ll have the words and the songs. If it’s an opera, the whole thing consists of a musical score called the libretto. The pages of the script are arranged to appear only on the left-hand side of the folder as you open it on the desk in front of you, and they’re interleaved with blank pages. This is how the book looks on Day One of rehearsal, at least. It doesn’t stay like that for long. From that moment on, the DSM begins to record on those blank pages every single thing that will happen before, during, and immediately after the show as it will happen in performance.

This consists of – well, let’s see. It’s a long list. The floor plan of the set, and how it changes from act to act or scene to scene is kept in the book. As for the bodies on the stage, every one of their exits and entrances goes in there. Every single move the cast makes onstage – the ‘blocking’ – has to be meticulously recorded. Same goes for props and furniture – where they’re placed and when, who uses them, and how. Later, the places where the lighting changes or sounds effects will happen have to be noted. Scene changes involving hefty bits of scenery ‘flown’ above the stage or large pieces moved in on wheels or ‘trucks’ can be dangerous movements on stage and therefore have to happen in a consistent, particular order so that everyone involved knows precisely what’s happening at any given moment. That’s in the book, too.

Why? Don’t the cast just learn all this themselves? Well, sure they do, but during rehearsal they sometimes forget. Sometimes even the director forgets! A central record has to be kept. And what if, at some point during the run of the show, someone literally ‘breaks a leg,’ and the understudy is called to the fore? The moves for the part they’re taking over are in the book, and that’s vital. It also provides technical and production information if the show should be performed again at a later date in the future, in revival, if it goes out on tour, or if there’s a cast change, and so on.

The first stages of rehearsals rarely take place in the theatre – most theatres have little or no space for this – so you’ll probably find yourself in some draughty premises in a part of the town only reached by one bus a day, or on the furthest reaches of the tube train system. If you’re lucky, you might get a room in a purpose-built studio with clean loos and an in-house café – if you’re lucky! The DSM is also responsible for the boring bits in the rehearsal room, getting there in the morning before anyone else arrives to set up the space and makes sure everything’s ready to begin bang on time. In theory, she has a one-hour lunch break, but in practice that’s mostly taken up with drawing up props lists or notes for the stage manager or assistants, making phone calls to the set designer or the wardrobe department, passing on queries or notes from rehearsal. Depending on the production, the days can be long – three sessions a day, morning, afternoon and evening, isn’t unusual, and the DSM is in on each session. At the end of each session she makes sure the company know tomorrow’s ‘calls,’ the times they’re next needed for rehearsal, then she’ll tidy up the room and sweep it ready for the morning. Hopefully someone else from the cast will have saved her a seat in the nearest pub and already ordered her a nice, cool drink….as she takes her first sip, the director will plop down in the seat beside her with ‘just a few more notes to pass on….’

Then comes the day when the entire company and its chattels decamps to the theatre itself for production week. You’re in the venue! Suddenly, ‘real’ theatre begins. A production desk is set up in the auditorium, manned by the director, the DSM, and any of the designers getting their first proper look at the production onstage. Here is where the plotting takes place – no, that’s not some kind of wicked conspiracy, but one of the most exciting parts of the process, when the stage lighting design is worked on by the designer and director. The electrics department, known as the LX team, ‘plot’ the lighting plan by running various groups of the stage lights based on the lighting design. Gradually each lighting cue is signed off to the director’s satisfaction, and the points at which the lighting cues will happen are noted in the book. Same for sound cues and any other effects called for by the production.

Into technical rehearsal, and the DSM moves to what will now be her permanent, backstage home for the run of the show – the prompt corner. It’s usually situated somewhere in the left of the backstage area, but if it’s on the right it’s called a ‘bastard’ prompt! The book now lives permanently on the prompt desk - see photo, left - and will never leave the theatre. Here the DSM will ‘call’ the show. The prompt desk allows her to communicate with all parts of the theatre – all the backstage areas including the dressing rooms, wardrobe department and the green room, which is the cast’s rest and preparation area just off-stage, all the technical members of staff including stage crew, all stage management, and the electrics and sound operators. She can also talk to ‘the flies,’ which isn’t a sign of a creeping stress-induced madness characterised by an overwhelming desire to talk to invisible insects, but refers instead to the crew in the ‘fly tower,’ the vast area above the stage where scenery is lowered down or lifted up to be stored till it’s needed again – in other words, it’s ‘flown’ in or out by the fly crew or flymen. All of these operations are signalled by the DSM either vocally through a headset talk-back system - the 'cans' - or by means of a series of coloured cue lights used to signify when the operators must 'stand-by' for their cues and then 'go.' Split-second timing is a skill all DSMs are born with! The prompt desk also has the facility for the DSM to communicate with ‘front of house,’ the audience areas, either by ringing the three-, two- and one-minute bells before the show begins, or to make spoken announcements inviting the audience to take their seats.

Technical rehearsal of course always goes smoothly with no hitches – well, maybe not! But everyone backstage, including the cast, knows that the technical rehearsal is vital. It’s not about acting your heart out or singing your soul out, but is the time when each move and each cue is rehearsed over and over till it’s perfect. Not until all the technical and safety aspects of the show are running without a hitch and to the satisfaction of the DSM and the stage manager can the show go ahead. See now why all this meticulous recording and note taking earlier on was so essential…..?

Dress rehearsal now, and yes, that should go without a hitch! Unless a safety issue is involved, the dress rehearsal will run ‘as per show,’ just as it should run in every performance, with no stoppages. If the technical rehearsal worked, the dress rehearsal should be fine.

And then – first night! The sense of relief after a good first night is palpable. A party is called for! But not too boozy and not too late into the wee small hours. After all, tomorrow is another day….and another show.

That was and is my dream job, and I loved every minute of it, . I’ve worked in some wonderful venues – everything from some of the UK’s most beautiful Edwardian theatres designed by the famous Frank Matcham, to brand-new state-of-the-art venues. I’ve done open-air theatre in the grounds of stately homes or ancient castles and even, for one fabulous summer, a restored Tuscan monastery. I’ve been so lucky to work with some amazing directors and designers, and made lifetime friends – I even met my husband in the theatre, and only gave up the job when I was well into my first pregnancy!

Great memories. Yeah, the show always goes on, and it was fabulous to be a part of that.

Jane Richardson writes 'sophisticated, realistic and uplifting romances with a lyrical voice.' Visit her website here.

London's West End/Gielgud Theatre photo by Steve Parker
Prompt desk photo by KeepOnTruckin
Playhouse Theatre London photo by Peripatetic