GrooveLily's Striking 12: Valerie's Blog #4

Striking 12: A New GrooveLily Musical
Valerie's Blog #4: "Preview"
By Valerie Vigoda

(STRIKING 12 officially opened on Sunday, November 12.  The following is a continuation of Valerie Vigoda's online blog, chronicling the events leading up to GrooveLily's momentus Off-Broadway premiere...)

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 3 - SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 5

We had a great trip! In some ways we were dreading having to leave in the middle of tech to go play gigs in the Midwest this past weekend...but it turned out to be the best thing we could have done. Friday night (in Menomonie, WI) was a regular GrooveLily concert, with a few selections from "Striking 12" thrown in; but Saturday night was "Striking 12" in its entirety, at the beautiful Fairmont Opera House in rural Minnesota. It was the perfect out-of-town tryout. 
 
This was the concert version of our show: no props, no light cues, no set design, no headset mics - just us onstage, doing all the material including the latest changes, for a brand-new audience who had never heard us before. 
 
Typical GrooveLily-style scheduling: Ted had mentioned late on Thursday that he'd like to try the new "Wonderful" reprise with solo violin accompaniment, instead of Brendan accompanying himself on piano - so the only time to write and practice a violin part before performing it was in the rental car between Menomonie and Fairmont, during our Saturday afternoon drive between gigs. For anyone reading this who has not seen us yet, I should mention that my violin is not typical - it's a crazy flying-V-guitar-shaped six-string fretted electric instrument called a Viper, which attaches to my body with a tripod/guitar strap harness. It's bigger than a traditional violin, has the range of a violin, viola and cello combined, and has no chinrest so it's much easier to sing while playing. The good news (for those attempting to practice in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle): it's quite sturdy. The bad news: it's really hard to a) get it out of the case, b) strap it on while wearing a seat belt, c) maneuver the empty case into the rear cargo area, d) move the bow at all without whacking the driver and/or the ceiling, or e) hear anything you're playing with no amplification and above the roar of the highway.

Other than that, it's a perfect, stress-free practice situation. 
 
I get a few confused double-takes from passing truckers who happen to glance over into our packed minivan, and simply smile back, my orange Viper pointing like a bazooka toward the windshield.

By the time we arrive in Fairmont, my shoulder is a little sore and cramped, but the violin part is written and ready to go. The only thing we need to do is play it a few times through the sound system to be sure it sounds good with Brendan's vocal. 
 
The Fairmont Opera House is lovely, and so is the incredibly warm reception we're given by the presenter, Michael Burgdorff. He has been promoting our show tirelessly, and we are delighted to learn that it's pretty much sold out (only 10 tickets left out of the 506-seat house). The sound engineer he's hired, Bob, is a serious rock-tour veteran: long-haired, fiftyish, really old-school and an utter pro at the board. He dials in our mixes effortlessly, with fingers flying and a completely relaxed attitude - and we know we are in good hands. Michael used to be a lighting guy before he ran the Opera House - so he focuses and runs the lights himself, getting out the Genie (mechanized basket-ladder which raises him up to the ceiling) and making sure we're all spotlighted correctly. This is a very professional operation, and we are impressed. 
 
After an excellent catered dinner in the dressing room, featuring lots of delicious local Minnesotan food (referred to as "hot dish": tuna casserole, pork loin, mashed potatoes, broccoli, apple crisp), we do the show - and it is an absolute blast. For the past two weeks, we've been rehearsing in our little room and then in the theater, only for Ted, Rachel and crew members/producers who have seen the show a million times already. We're not used to getting actual laughs anymore...or genuine appreciation from a new audience - and these people love the show! There are some interesting gaffes: for example, we're now so used to the headset mics that using regular microphones on stands feels very different. At one point, I am holding the mic with one hand, and for some reason I get discombobulated, cleverly lean over and sing into the empty mic clip. At another point, we realize that since we have traveled with no props, there is no hat for Gene to wear as his Grandma character - which would be no problem except for a line that Brendan delivers where he asks Gene to "put the hat back on." As the moment approaches, we all wonder what Brendan is going to say...and he is, as always, brilliant in the clutch! He says "You know that Yiddish accent you were using? Why don't you put the accent back on?" 
 
The audience goes with it completely, and no one notices a thing. Fantastic.
 
We reach the end of the show - and 500 people absolutely leap to their feet. "Striking 12" is in fine shape, and the rewrites are working! We are totally revitalized and excited to return to New York for our first preview. 
 
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 6 - WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 8
 
Ted, the designers and the crew have been working hard all weekend, ironing out the set/lighting/sound issues - and they've got it all under control. Hundreds of nice seats are in place, Tickets are selling. People are going to pay to see the show tonight!! 
 
We do a dress rehearsal, with press photos - and the only missing element is my skirt. (Not that I played the rehearsal bottomless - but Jen is not happy with the skirt she has, and I must agree - it's very bunchy/confining and doesn't let me move like I'm used to...but the photographers are excellent and get a bunch of good/useful press shots that we can all live with.)

Ted decides to change one final set element - now that we are opening, I'm allowed to describe these things, I think - there were supposed to be orange neon lights flying in to symbolize matches, as the Little Match Girl lights them one by one...but they were pretty hazardous, weighted heavily with steel and flying in very close to my head - so instead the twelve neon lights will appear on the sides of the stage, in two columns of six. It's a lovely compromise, and keeps us much safer. 
 
My favorite part of the set design, and the one that has required the most work and attention while we've been gone this weekend, is the "iris curtain." As with a camera's iris, the vertical and horizontal axis each moves independently - so the curtain can open to any size rectangle within the entire backdrop. Two curtain operators work in synch for each move - and it's amazing what they can do with these basic shapes to imply: an apartment window (small, square), a subway train (wide, short) a Christmas tree (tall, thin)...and many other things, each with different lighting. It's quite beautiful; but I realize I won't be able to turn around and look at it anymore after today. 
 
It's deceptively tricky to work the curtain - it's very easy for it to catch and stutter along instead of gliding smoothly into place, or to end up askew - and the curtain operators can't see the results of their moves from behind the curtains - but by today (Monday) they're doing a great job. 
 
Behind the iris curtain is an abstract field of snow - big glittering Styrofoam balls on diagonal blue strings. I'm struck by the simplicity and beauty of what David Korins has come up with. Nothing literal, all very evocative.

The last thing to get done before performance is: patch changes for me from offstage! Usually I have my pedal board (aka "stomp box") in front of me on the floor, and step from sound to sound with my foot. (This is called "changing patches.") 
 
Something new for this run is to have the stomp box OFFstage, and for Rob to control the patch changes electronically. This requires some work on his part (and the assistance of our dear friend and colleague Deborah Hurwitz, who is the associate musical director of "Jersey Boys"), as well as blind faith from me - because I will now have NO CONTROL if something goes wrong. Yikes. Luckily, there's no one better than Rob. 
 
Not having the stomp box in front of me is very freeing - I don't have to constantly be breaking focus and looking down at the floor, or be tied physically to the location of the pedal board. Since I'm the only one of the three of us who can move around the stage at all, this is very helpful. 
 
There's no time for a runthrough with the patch changes - so we just cross our fingers, go ahead and do the show.

All is well. It's working. It's working. A few cues are off, but that is what previews are for... 
 
There are three previews before the critics come (we're not supposed to be told officially, but due to rumors flying backstage it's kind of impossible not to know that Thursday and Friday will be the nights they'll be there...), and we and Ted and Rachel take full advantage of the chances to try out new things - stretching our short-term memories to the max with all the changes. There are lots of notes, and arrangement/text/blocking rewrites at each performance. We rewrite the introduction again! Michael programs tons of new light cues. We have very nice, very diverse audiences: theater mavens who see everything FIRST (supportive, older, mostly female); Hispanic high school groups (rowdy, fun, vocal); a Fordham University student group (polite, appreciative, laid-back)...and of course, lots of friends/family/contacts of our producers. We are honored to see some Broadway star power in the crowd: Lauren Molina ("Sweeney Todd"), Darrin Baker ("Tarzan"), Jeff Blumenkrantz (Tony-nominated composer)...luckily we don't see them until after the curtain call. :) 
 
A little dazed and overwhelmed with new script pages, a little sleep-deprived but extremely excited...we are ready for opening. Critics come tomorrow.

Photo-Brendan Milburn, Gene Lewin and Valerie Vigoda