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Patches? Those Go On Pants!

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Back in 1996, when the art of conventional lighting still reigned supreme on the “legitimate” stage, I was working as LD for a new play. (Yes, some of us do that.)

I received a packet of design materials from the M.E. at the theatre where we would load-in. We all know the condition in which many of these packets arrive, if they arrive at all, but this one was truly an exception. The instrument schedule detailed types, colors, lamps, circuits, channels, patch and everything else that I could think of. The plot, well drawn and to scale, gave a precise view of every instrument relative to its focal point. I even got the almighty sectional, which had the potential to save a lot of focus time. (This was before 1999, understand. Moving lights were still confined to the “big” shows and rentals.)

I wrote all my cues, and transferred them to a disk, as the packet indicated that the theatre ran an ETC console. With all that I knew of their plot and patch, prerecording was not only smart, but almost guaranteed…Yeah. Almost guaranteed.

We arrived at the theatre, at which we were engaged for only one day, without incident. Every piece of equipment came out untouched. Not one spare anything proved necessary. One of the facility administrators informed me that we had one hour for dimmer and sound checks before curtain up. No big deal! I had my disk, right?

Their M.E. led my board op and me up a flight of stairs to their booth. The booth was cramped, but it functioned, and everything we needed was there. The M.E. sat my board op down at the console and I handed her the disk, offering her a well-intentioned “good show” as I turned to head out for a quick smoke.

You know that “Uhhhhh” that techs mutter when technology doesn’t do what it’s supposed to? Yeah. That one. That “Uhhhhh” stopped me dead in my tracks at the door. I turned to notice that the console had indeed uploaded the disk, and cue one (our warmer) had run. But what I saw when my eyes cleared the wall and peered out through the fingerprints on the booth glass was not in any shape or form my warmer.

The cue had brought up a section of houselights, a few worklights, some random ellipsoidals and Fresnels, maybe a PAR or two and some other incandescents that may or may not even qualify as light sources. We ran the next cue…blackout. OK, that one worked. Next cue…more random crap. Different random crap, but equally random.
I turned to their M.E., if indeed he ever qualified as such, and asked, “What the #%&^ happened?”

He stared at me for a moment, but then replied, “Oh yeah. We had a show in here last week, and the patch didn’t work for ‘em, so we changed it.”

Now it’s 35 minutes to curtain, and instead of lighting up a cigarette I have the sudden urge to light this guy, his boss and the director of that mysterious “other show” ablaze!

I sat down behind the board, and I started programming subs like a madman. We held the house an extra 15 minutes while I programmed and fended off a coronary, completing the last look just seconds before I heard that first door open from the lobby.

In the end, the show went off with no discernable hitches, unless there was another designer in the house who ferreted out the repetition. My stage manager, who good-heartedly bore the brunt of my expletives, was seemingly pleased, and actor complaints about weak hotspots stayed at a minimum, and stopped altogether when they saw the manic glint in my eyes.

Trust no one. Ever. Check everything in person. Their specs are lies!

Dave McGinnis
dmcginnis@plsn.com