We’ve all had those moments. A familiar face catches your eye and you think, “That guy looks just like fill in famous name. The thing about being backstage after a show is there is a pretty good chance that the person you’re seeing is actually who they look like. About 20 years ago, I met Sarah McLachlan after a show in Toronto. A pleasant conversation ensued between the two of us and a fellow crew member, who was lamenting on the length of our tour. When Ms. McLachlan commiserated, it got interesting.
“What do you do?” he asked.
“Sarah McLachlan,” she said, a little taken aback.
“What do you do for her?”
“…Ugh…I am Sarah McLachlan.”
Considering her face was on the cover of the CD that he listened to every night in the bus, one would think he would have recognized her. Then again, many people don’t stop to think before they speak.
You just never know whom you are talking to. Who they are, who they might be or used to be, or whom they may end up being.
I once told a touring associate, upon meeting his buddy’s girlfriend, that she had “a real Hilary Swank look going on.”
He said, “Yeah, well, he married her.”
There’s a big difference between oblivious and ignorant. Early in my career, I was working a local club doing national acts. I had yet to break into real touring. A band called the Smithereens came through town. They were pretty hot at the time. The guy in charge treated me like one of his minions. Perhaps because he was the professional that I thought I was. Although I remained efficient, I made his day difficult by being belligerent. And it bit me in the ass. He turned out to be a major player. Fast forward a couple months, and I’m up for a touring gig. Which I didn’t get because the guy I dissed was involved in making the decision. Had I been smart and treated him with respect, I probably would have gotten out of the clubs a lot sooner. Lesson learned.
Pulling Teeth
Patience goes a long way. The first time I went to places like Jakarta, Indonesia, or Manila, in the Philippines, the production was just a step over two cans and a string. I felt like a dentist, because I spent the entire gig pulling teeth. Nothing was right. I lost hours showing them how to use their own gear and fixing it for them. During the show, lights were dropping like flies. Through it all, I maintained a pleasant demeanor. (Though sometimes it was through gritted teeth.) When I left, I thanked them, even though my day was a nightmare.
Fast forward a year, and I’m back. And guess who was there? Same people. And they remembered my name! Was it a better gig? Not really. But, they did everything in their power to make it work for me. And that goes a long way in a country where you don’t know the language. Five months later, I was back again, and it was even better. If I hadn’t been gracious in the face of less-than-stellar performance the first time, they would have remembered and probably made sure my life got progressively worse. Especially when they tell you about another act’s LD who was a jerk to them. And how the show, for some strange reason, was a disaster.
And what if you’re wrong? What if you think the locals are inept and you treat them that way? I was recently in Bangkok doing double duty on lighting and video. There was a problem with the media server not talking to the large video screen. I was convinced the trouble was on their end. After all, my gear worked every day. Turns out I had a bad cable in my rack. (Go figure!) If I had gotten all stroppy with the locals, they wouldn’t have worked that extra hour to find my mistake. Hell, they even gave me a T-shirt from their company.
We’ve all heard there are no stupid questions. I disagree. I’ve been asked, “Can I get four Coronas?” while lighting a show back in the club days. But, there are also stupid answers. It’s not always what you say, but how you say it. Attitude is something PLSN’s editor Nook Schoenfeld has taught us many times in this very column. Treating people as inferior because you find them incapable won’t help you get that lighting truss off the ground. The madder you get at those working for you, the farther you’ll get from succeeding. And how do you know that kid you’re belittling isn’t the promoter’s son? And if it gets back to your band’s manager? Long-term prognosis: unemployed.
Bite That Tongue
Let me segue to an example that could have gone very wrong. Four years ago, I started working with a famous artist. I was only a few months into being his LD, a position that was more like Russian roulette, based on the long line of predecessors. I was setting up Front of House around noon that day. This older gentleman was putting up his personal video camera right in my sight line. Instead of attacking him about what he was doing (“You can’t video the show!) Or dissing him over poor cable management (his were very messy), I simply asked him in a very nice tone if he wouldn’t mind moving just a bit to the side and keeping it clean. We were expecting a lot of guests at FOH today.
Our soundman, who’d been with the artist a long time, was nice enough to stop what he was doing and introduce me to the artist’s father. Gulp. Point being, if I had barked at him, there probably would be someone else writing this column about the jackass he replaced on that gig.
Of course, there are some times when you have to put a little weight into a response. As a favor while home in Colorado some years ago, I did a gig at a tiny venue for a national act doing a special show. I made a few requests of the house guy, who for some reason acted like me about 25 years ago. He got all agro, telling me with an air of self-importance that he was the LD for Loverboy. (No disrespect to that band, but this was well after their heyday.) As if it mattered whom he worked for. Right now, he was supposed to be working for me. With a dumbfounded expression I asked, “Did you just ‘Loverboy’ me?”
Okay, after that I tore into him. Probably wasn’t a good idea. We all have our moments. The worst part was, I’m not sure if I apologized for the outburst. There are those rare occasions where people deserve it.
There were times many years ago when I got angry with people who didn’t deserve it. And it made me look bad. And feel bad. As an LD, it’s our job to make things look good. So, look before you leap, breathe before you bark, and answer those stupid questions with a smile. It may be someone’s father.
Joel Reiff is an independent LD who spent his last year illuminating Jason Mraz. Currently touring with Peter Frampton, he resides in Boulder, CO with his family of humans and horses.
