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            There are times when things align themselves in a rehearsal period which make the oft-sought-after perfection much easier to achieve. “Cabaret” at The Grand Theatre in London, Ontario was one of those alignments! Going into our first preview we were justifiably proud of what we had accomplished over the previous three and a half weeks. The Cast, Orchestra, the Creative Staff and Crew had worked like a well-oiled machine, and the anticipation of putting our work in front of an audience filled us all with a combination of excitement and the ever-present dread. What if they didn’t like it? How could that be possible? No element of our show had been overlooked. There wasn’t a weak link in the Cast. Even the orchestra, decked out in a variety of lady’s clothing, had “bought into” the spirit of the concept and were playing it for all they were worth. Tim French’s choreography was astonishing, and the dancers loved doing it. Nikki and I had entered into our character’s relationship with a degree of commitment and honesty that constantly fueled us and filled the stage, and our first house told us in no uncertain terms at the curtain that preview night that we were, as Michael (Shamata) had put it at the note session that afternoon, the “heart of the show”. It was a supremely satisfying feeling.

            Each preview audience sprang to its feet at the end of each performance and had primed us for Opening. We didn’t disappoint them … nor they us! The compliments flew fast and furious at the reception afterward. We were besieged by Board members and City Officials and donors to the theatre. Even my house hosts and their friends, for whom I’d arranged tickets, told me that they were “entertained, involved and touched” by the production. Michael had been very aware of the turmoil I had gone through to get to where he wanted ‘Schultz’ to be, and on opening night gifted me with a photo of Nikki and I in one of our scenes. He had inscribed the picture with a note that read “Thank you for taking him into the world of difficult choices. The payoff is enormous. It is a beautiful performance.” That meant everything to me as we prepared for the run, buoyed and confident. But that euphoria lasted for only a few hours. The review in the London paper the following morning was an absolute pan! Nothing about our production was left unscathed. He concluded his reporting (he wasn’t an arts writer) by suggesting that people stay home and rent the video instead! The uproar in the days that followed was amazing! Letters to the Editor made it clear that the newspaper should be chastised for allowing such drivel to be published and that the article did a great disservice to the encouragement and support of Live Performance in the Community. I had thought of writing as well, but decided against it. We knew we were good, and I let it go at that! We settled into the run.

            If only because a number of audience members had mentioned it to me, I became very aware of what I was doing when not in the center of the action. There are a few stretches when ‘Schultz’ is in the distant background but still listening to what is being said by other characters in the central focus. This was especially the case during the huge Engagement Party thrown for ‘Schultz’ and ‘Schneider’. The fun and festivities spiral downward to a very dark place when a group of young fascists arrive and make their feelings about a Jew marrying a non-Jew painfully apparent. Try though he might through his cajoling and joking as a means of distraction, ‘Schultz’ is powerless to stop the ensuing chaos and slowly backs away, mortified and frightened. It was those “apart” moments that folks in the audience told me they had been glued to. I was sorry I found that out because I subsequently became much too self-conscious about what I was doing and began editing myself in order not to pull focus. That self-editing probably wasn’t a good choice, and it took me a while to let my minimalizing go and play ‘Schultz’s’ real reactions. But despite “critics” and self-doubt we continued on, still feeling very proud of the work and I looked forward to the Winnipeg audiences seeing our production.

            As usual, I was yanked back into my other world as soon as we opened. “Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake” (in case there was any confusion as to whose production this was) had just opened in New York and had been “wowing” audiences, particularly the high-end symphonic players in the Orchestra, (or “The Band” as Sam insisted on calling it). This great response had set off a chain reaction up the ladder to Producer Cameron MacIntosh, who had a number of other shows lined up for New York sits (“Oklahoma”, “Oliver”, “Putting It Together”). Knowing of this very positive internal buzz, Sam was pumped and in there like a dirty shirt making pitches for more work with the really Big Boys. For me, it would be another case of those perpetual payrolls and budgets demanding more and more time; but for the moment, “Swan Lake” was to provide me with a major challenge in the next while, one that brought me very close to saying “I give up” and walking away from it all!

            Once back home I happily settled into familiar surroundings with all my “things” at hand. We took a week to re-mount “Cabaret” on the MTC stage and quickly adjusted to a very different sound and the illusion of a LOT more space in which to perform. While the set was, naturally, the same size as in London, the vastness of the MTC house gave us the sense that some of the intimacy had been lost, but we overcame that and opened to rapturous response by audience and critics alike. The curtain call had been re-staged to give us a bit more time to get on (it was a greater distance from off-stage to center-stage) and take our turn in the spotlight. On Opening Night when Nikki and I walked out the house went nuts (sorry, no other way to put it) and I could hear some kind of chant start up in the far reaches of the orchestra section. It sounded like they were yelling “Urf, Urf, Urf” over and over again, like the old Arsenio Hall Show audience. We took our bow and stepped back into line. I asked Nikki what they were chanting, and she said “Hurst!”. They were acknowledging a home boy (I was the only Winnipegger in the Cast) and I got quite emotional on the spot.

The run was 90% sold before we even arrived in town, and that was a bonus confirming how great a show we had put together. A few nights before we closed, Nikki and I were standing backstage just before heading on for our “Married” scene. It was my favourite fifteen minutes on stage, so close and heartfelt and doing it with such a fine actress made it incredibly real, touching and satisfying. Standing beside each other in the dark, she leaned over to me and whispered, “I’m going to miss this so much”. “You’re not going to start getting weepy now, are you?” I whispered back. She laughed and said, “Not yet”. I was going to miss her most of all. This feeling of connection permeated the Company, and it was like that right to the sad ending of this incredible show!  

Meanwhile, back in my other life I was becoming increasingly aware of what was, unbeknownst to me, a routine procedure with Broadway shows. For any production, the first few weeks after opening are free of changes on any level. This gives the performers time to settle in without distractions or alterations and creates a stress-free environment, time for everything to settle in. But after the honeymoon, the settling ends, and “business” takes over. Even to this day I can’t find a route to understanding why this particular phenomenon takes place, but it did (and does) and brought me to the brink – subbing! Subbing, simply put, is when one musician in the pit takes over for another, something like an understudy. The reasons for these substitutes vary, some reasonably, others not so much. “Swan Lake” had a thirty-four piece orchestra, a large group for any Broadway pit. We were using a reduction of the huge Tchaikovsky score and needed very proficient musicians. We had the best players and, as mentioned above, the producers were over the moon with the quality of our “band” … at the outset.

When the subbing began, it was only a couple of players here and there … a trickle, so to speak. I could deal with that. I was still creating the weekly payroll at home and sending it back with the Invoice to our pit contractor (Brian Greene) in order for cheques to be made out by the on-site Company Manager and given directly to the musicians. It took a bit of work, but I thanked heaven for the spreadsheet program when it came to the new calculation formulae. For example, the Concertmaster needed a number of performances off for another commitment, so a Violin Section player had to move up into his chair. The Concertmaster’s pay rate was higher (50%) than that of the Section Player, so an adjustment had to be made – giving the Section Player their usual rate plus the difference in the Concertmaster’s fee for the number of performances he was out. The Section Player would then receive the additional money on his payroll and the Concertmaster would have those fees deducted. Additionally, there was another musician who had to take over the Section Player’s chair – usually someone from “outside” which added a new name to the Roster. The strings were relatively easy as they were all paid at the same rate, but when it came to the woodwind subbing it got crazy! These folks were playing multiple instruments and each instrument had a “doubling” percentage associated with it. In this orchestra reduction some musicians were playing up to four different instruments! The complexity of the subbing calculations for these players was worthy of a forensic analyst!

And then the floodgates opened! Figuring out a couple of subs I was alright. For four or five I was getting tense. When it reached ten, I was sweating. When it reached 23, I lost it! That’s twenty-three subs in an orchestra of 34! There were performances when Musical Director David Frame hardly recognized anyone in the pit! It had come to a point of subs subbing for subs … people we’d never heard of (the person subbing out had to find their own sub) and getting payroll information – addresses, Social Security numbers, etc. – required a Private Investigator! It was mentally and emotionally debilitating, and despite the helpful spreadsheets, the complex calculations were getting extremely messy. Subs would come in on a moment’s notice and no one would be told about the new player in advance. New York musicians considered subbing something of a birthright and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it – not the Producers, not the Union and certainly not the Contractor. I was beside myself, fearful of making a mistake (and I did … a number of times) and losing control! I told Sam it was getting out of hand and, true to form, he stepped into the fray. He had talks with his friends at Musicians Local 802 and, explaining that this practice was adversely affecting the quality of the music about which the higher-ups had been so pleased, managed to institute a limit on the number of subs permitted for any particular performance.

Slowly and methodically, I managed to train Brian to do the calculations himself after some tense and protracted explanations, and he started to excel at the job. I was released from the torture. I would meet up with him when I was in New York just to solidify the learning a bit and make sure that he was getting comfortable with the mayhem that was happening daily. While not to the extreme of New York, it was somewhat the same in Chicago with “Ragtime” (subs were called “walkers” there) but the great Tim Burke had a bead on the situation, and, thankfully, I didn’t have to do much training in that case.

It was about now that Sam got it in his head that it might be the right time for me to become a Company Manager! A production’s Company Manager does everything … and I mean everything … to keep a show up and running smoothly! It’s a huge job and incredibly demanding. One of our shows – “Swing – the Big Band Musical” – was supposed to be heading out on the road for a months-long tour and my penchant for organization and dealing with crises in the moment had Sam thinking that taking over the show might be something I’d be interested in doing. My spur-of-the-moment reaction was “Yup, I’ll do that” but, after taking a breath, I began thinking about the stress and tension I could hear in the voices of CM’s whenever I spoke with them on the phone about an orchestra problem. Combined with being on the road with no performing possibilities, I started to hope and pray that the show wouldn’t tour. It didn’t. I breathed a sigh of relief and started confirming the season ahead.

I had said “Yes” to a Spring production of “Damn Yankees” in Portland, “Yes” to a Prairie Theatre Exchange production of George F. Walker’s “Love and Anger”, “Yes” to doing Narration for the Royal Winnipeg Ballet’s “Dracula”, “Yes” to another year (the tenth) of Dalnavert’s “A Christmas Carol” readings, and a BIG “Yes” to a newly-reorganized Rainbow Stage’s production of “Crazy For You” – my first in many years! Because of conflicts, I had to say “No” to MTC’s “Ethan Claymore’s Christmas” and, very sadly, a “No” to Keith Brion for a Concert with the Harrisburg (PA) POPS. This last one was a biggie. Brion had made a name for himself “playing” John Phillip Sousa for POPS Orchestras in the US (“The New Sousa Band”). He had heard me with Norman (Leyden) during one of my Symphony engagements and had called a number of times wanting to hire me to travel with him singing “songs of the period” during his Sousa concerts. It was a big, big bummer letting that one go!

Did another quick jaunt to New York. This was mostly business, but I managed to fit in a lot of shows. Having just finished “Cabaret” I was interested in seeing the production of it at Studio 54, now a Broadway Theatre. Roundabout Theatre Company had bought it and “Cabaret” was their first show in the newly refurbished theatre. It was a glorious space and I had managed to score a chair at an upper orchestra table and ordered a sandwich, soda and brownie for dinner before the show. It cost me $13.50US dollars which is about $27.00 Canadian dollars today! I only mention this because the food was as bad as the show! It had opened a few months earlier and Alan Cumming was still doing the ‘Emcee’ role. I think I was maybe a bit overly sentimental about my recent experience and I got more and more depressed as the performance went on. There was a glibness about the production, as if they were sending it up. Everyone was doing that big, brash, play-it-out-front delivery that I’d come to expect (and hate) in New York performers and the staging had no heart. Ron Rifkin in “my” role went for comedy and aggression and seemed a caricature of the little fruit stand owner. I left at intermission because I couldn’t stand it anymore. We had scheduled this production as one of the shows for the New York Tour Kayla and I were doing in the Spring, but I made a mental note to have it removed from the list when I got back home.

Spent a bit of time with Jeremy Kushnier who was starring as ‘Ren’ in “Footloose”, and we marveled at his journey from his young boy roles at Rainbow Stage to the lead in a Broadway blockbuster! When he found out that we were bringing a tour group to New York, he got very excited and said that he would arrange for a Q&A session with him after the performance. That was a bonus! Saw “Corpus Christi”, Terrence McNally’s controversial new play about a gay Jesus-like character (‘Joshua’) which the Catholic Church was picketing. I couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. We had to go through metal detectors at the door of the theatre, but it was all forgotten once inside and watching the rather emotionally uninvolving piece of theatre. I’m pretty sure none of the fundamentalists marching outside had seen it because I couldn’t understand what they were upset about. Another tempest in a teapot. “Footloose” and Jeremy were great! “Swan Lake” was astonishing. A new show by Jason Robert Brown called “Parade” with Brent (Carver) was remarkable. And a few Off-Broadway shows rounded out the week’s playbill.

I took some time to myself to do some preparation for our Escorted Tour. Since there were going to be some return travelers I didn’t want to do the same Walking Tour that we’d done before, so I headed uptown to map out a new tour of the Upper West Side. This was where all the mansions had been built in the late part of the 19^th century – the Vanderbilt, Carnegie and Astor homes – and some were still standing. This was where “The Dakota Apartments” had been built – which everyone knows from “Rosemary’s Baby”. I’d not spent a lot of time in this part of the city when I lived there and was amazed at how big these places were. I’d found a book that had floor plans for some of the apartments, suites comprising up to twenty-seven rooms complete with servant quarters. I got excited about exploring this history of luxury living in old New York and spent a few more days walking and planning the route.

Sam had arrived in town. We’d never been there at the same time, and I couldn’t quite get my head around sitting in a NY Deli opposite him with his stacks of paper discussing what had recently become, for us, a desperate situation with one of our major employers – Livent. While public details were slim, the Company Managers had kept us informed minute by minute. We had three major tours out with them (two “Showboats” and a “Ragtime”), another about to go to contract (“Peter Pan”) and we were responsible for a LOT of musicians.  Sam was edgy as we speculated on what it would mean for us should we lose half our income – we were pulling down about almost $5K US per week from those shows – and he started talking about getting rid of the Vancouver condo, moving back to Winnipeg and just doing our regional productions. He even talked about he and I taking salary cuts (!!) and tightening our belts. But at this point nothing was decided … until it was. Before I left town, Livent had filed for Chapter Eleven bankruptcy, closed both tours of “Showboat”, routed “Peter Pan” to Neverland and sent dozens of employees scurrying to look for other jobs! The fate of “Ragtime” was still up in the air!

Needless to say, this development sent Sam scurrying as well. He doubled his efforts with engagers and re-reconfirmed our connections with MacIntosh and Wasser for the down-the-road picture. We connected with PACE Theatricals and another company called “Theatre Networks” for other work, but nothing was secured. It was a good thing that he had established a very amicable relationship with those powers-that-be at the American Federation of Musicians because a “Showboat” musician was considering suing us for reneging on a contract. Sam got feisty again and pulled the head of the Union into the fray and managed to smooth things over. I headed back home and the safety of my desk and computer and a week of “A Christmas Carol” readings before heading into rehearsals of “Love And Anger”.

But there remained the ordeal of waiting for the settling of the dust on Livent. It would be a long time coming!