To tell the truth, by the end of the first week at the Hyatt Regency Waikiki, I was tugging at the bit to get home … and there was still another week-and-a-half to go! Mom had come and gone, and friends Scott and Leslie Drewitz had also been in town for a few days but had also moved on. I usually looked upon these long-cherished sojourns as down time, replenishing- mental-health escapes; but something had changed. I didn’t know if it was guilt that had set in – being away from my desk and all the “stuff” I had to do. I had brought my technology with me and paid T-Mobile a whack of dough to be connected through the hotel’s internet, so payrolls and new budgets were being taken care of. Or perhaps it was boredom. That possibility surprised me. I think I missed the moment to moment action of my office phone, never knowing what was going to be demanded of me and how fast it had to get done. Maybe it was a combination of the two, but I would just have to suck it up and suffer through being so far away from the reality I’d become alarmingly used to. And I was missing Morgan!

As usual, once back home I hit the ground running. Top of the list was the MSI Annual Budget meeting with Sam and getting the Company ledgers in order for the year-end wrangle with our accountant. We were doing pretty well financially. We would top a million in Revenue and if we could keep spending in line, Staff bonuses would be substantial. That depended on Sam of course. His generosity was problematic at times. He would think nothing of dropping a couple grand for drinks and dinner with an entire orchestra someplace. Often our Amex bills would take my breath away! But he thought that rewarding a great bunch of musicians went a long way toward building our brand and maintaining good relationships with our hires. That included the Staff!

One development since I’d left was that Sir Andrew (Lloyd Webber) had signed off on the “New Gospel Version” of “JC Superstar”, and Sam was now in the process of getting the licensing done with The Really Useful Group, Webber’s producing Company. As might be expected, over time, Sam had established and nurtured connections with a variety of folks, many of whom I knew nothing about. These were social liaisons he thought might be of value down the road and had, on many occasions, produced fruit. One of these friends, Louis St. Louis, had been working in the background with Sam in getting “Superstar” secured. I’d never heard of him, but his resume was impressive. He was a songwriter and Broadway Musical Director for shows like “Grease” and “Smokey Joe’s Café” and was now thickly involved in the project. Outside of a very small group of people, Sam had told no one of Garth’s (Drabinsky) involvement in the project. But at this point, it was apparent that GD’s financial and legal problems were becoming dramatically more serious, and since he was the one bringing a lot of   up-front money with him, the prospect of “Superstar” was beginning to fade. Over the years, I’d seen Sam’s initial enthusiasm for a project wane if they became too complicated and yet, at the same time, provide a momentum for the next “thing”. I never figured out how he could let things go like that. It was probably part of an entrepreneurial armor, the innate self-protective coating off of which the bad stuff slid and to which the good stuff stuck. It baffled me and, at the same time, impressed me.

There was some other news that greeted me upon my return. Rainbow had somehow managed to regain some financial footing and the still-very-trepidatious Board had decided to go ahead with a summer production of “The Wizard of Oz”. While I’d emotionally let go of all the long-term plans for my involvement there, Ken (Peter) now confirmed that I would direct the production. While in Hawaii, I had found myself standing on my balcony looking out over the ocean and fantasizing about who I would have cast in the show’s various roles had it been scheduled. It was academic at that point but now, it wasn’t. And, of course, my mind went into overdrive as I found myself, once again, scrambling to solidify people for the major roles. Surprisingly, upon issuing the offer, Ken had mentioned a couple of the same folks I’d come up with in my little daydream – Jeff Kohut for ‘The Scarecrow’ and “Tim Gledhill for ‘The Tin Woodsman’. ‘The Lion’ needed a bit more thought. As did ‘Dorothy’ and the ‘Witches’. Ken had actually approached Nia Vardalos (an ex-Winnipegger) to play ‘The Wicked Witch of West’ and was waiting to hear back. For me, the only downside was that, in order to save money, all rehearsals would be held out at the Stage rather than the Korol Rehearsal Hall at the Pantages Theatre downtown. The Stage was a thirty-five minute drive from home. The good news was that I could take Morgan with me. There was lots of peeing grass, lots of free parking and the rental set would arrive from Wichita Music Theatre a week after rehearsals began. Despite these positives, I knew this would be a pig to put together and that I would have to steel myself emotionally because it was going to come on faster than I thought!

One small diversion took place in early February. My dear friend, Teresa Lee, had become General Manager of the Shakespeare in the Ruins Company. To begin her tenure, she decided a Fundraiser for the Company would be a good opening gambit. Over her time teaching music at St. John’s-Ravenscourt School, she had firmly connected with many of the city’s high-rollers and sent out 160 exclusive invitations for them to partake in an “Extraordinary Evening of Elizabethan Games and Amusements” at The Conservatory in Assiniboine Park. Teresa never did anything by halves and this event was no exception. Partnered with Arne MacPherson and dressed in outlandish period costumes, I manned the front door greeting arriving guests with “Hail!” and “Well met”, setting a quasi-Shakespearean tone for the hours ahead. The “rooms” of The Conservatory were done up with theatrical lighting and gaming areas tucked away in the bushes and foliage, and food tables were scattered throughout the spaces ladened with piles of catered delectables. It was a sight to behold.

In the course of standing at the entry doors in what quickly became a momentary polar vortex for the guests but a perpetual deep-freeze for Arne and me (this was February in Winnipeg!), he asked if I would be interested in playing the role of ‘Thomas Cranmer’ in a new musical by Deb Paterson (Arne’s wife) called “Head”. It concerned the relationship between Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn and was being mounted by the Company in late Summer-early Fall fitting into my schedule perfectly. I asked if I could read a script and went off into party mode considering the offer my bonus for supporting the very profitable (for the Company) evening. They made a LOT of money that festive night!

By now, we had pretty well settled on the “Wizard” casting except for a ‘Dorothy’. Through MSI, we’d secured the great Don Horsburgh as our MD, a wonderful, easy-going guy with a boatload of experience, dispelling any qualms about the musical aspect of the show. Then, all too soon, it was time to brace myself for the Ensemble auditions. Practically speaking, “The Munchkins” would have to be “small” people and the only humans who could fill that bill were, God help me, kids. Seeing 66 young girls over the course of the first four-and-a-half hours was no mean feat. The vast majority of them were predictably pitiful, but thankfully there were a few bright lights. The auditions had been organized so the kids got older as the week went by and, consequently, they got a bit better … not much, but a bit. By the end of the week we were moving on to the adults which didn’t yield a much better crop. Why people who can’t sing insist on auditioning for a musical is completely beyond me. I had no compunction in stopping them before they got too far down the path of no return and sparing us further pain. I probably could have cast most of the show without any auditions at all, but “being open to anyone and everyone” was part of Rainbow’s mandate and my hands were tied. By the final day, we’d seen 262 people!

The Equity folk were also a mixed bag. My big concern was still ‘Dorothy’ and none of the ladies who came out had the whole package. It might be that we’d have to go down East for the role. We locked in Cory Wojcik for ‘The Lion’ and cast Brenda Gorlick as ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’ (Nia Vardalos had conflicts). But why was getting this done so difficult? Maybe it was just the nature of the show itself … the characters are so particular, so specific, and, hanging over everything were the iconic film performers. Ray Bolger, Burt Lahr and Jack Haley had left massively indelible marks on their roles and there really was no other way to “do” them. I kept telling myself that over and over again!

After another go ‘round, I found my ‘Dorothy’ in the form of Chelsea Duplak. A good singer with a wholesome look about her, she could act well and “played” young”. We lost a few folks I wanted to other gigs, among them Rob James, a good-looking talent who, it turned out, had been selected for the final 22 in the “Canadian Idol” competition that year. He’d been in the “Saigon” Ensemble, and I held out some hope for him down the road, but sadly it wasn’t our Yellow Brick one. And then we chanced on Roy Smith, a dance teacher in town who was a fusion of Paul Lynde and Jerry Colonna and mercifully unaware of how funny he was. We hired him as our blustery “Emerald City Gatekeeper” and my casting saga was pretty well over.

Then “Fiddler” finally evaporated. My disappointment knew no bounds. Music Theatre International had been on Ken’s neck to decide if Rainbow was doing the show or not … and they made sure to explain, not because MTC wanted it. The Board had decided to be “prudent” and to wait to see what business “Wizard” would do before committing any further down the road. To my mind, “Fiddler” was a slam-dunk – it had packed houses the last two times we’d done it – so why not bank on it? I couldn’t figure it out. I drowned my sorrows in another little jaunt to NYC to see some new shows.

Starting on Monday, my first day in New York, a lot of my time was taken up with an MSI crisis. Usually, Sam took care of crises – he thrived on them – but he was in Southeast Asia so I had to deal with it. Thank God for cell phones! The initial call was from John Monaco, Music Coordinator on the North American Tour of “Chicago”, informing me that their travelling keyboard player needed a sub for the Saturday Matinee. They had just landed in Ottawa where we were the local Contractors, and it was our job to find one. I started the wheels in motion only to be told by our rep in Ottawa a day later that the sub would now be needed for the Sunday matinee as well! Ottawa is a small town with scant quality players available at the drop of a hat for a major production like this! The only name that came to mind was of a great Ottawa keyboard player who’d worked for us years earlier and who’s number I happened to have with me. But we couldn’t connect! I must have put in ten calls to him over two days leaving messages about the urgency of the matter! At one point we did speak, but he wanted three times the money I was authorized to pay him, and I had to tell him that wasn’t going to happen. Once off the phone, I thought about it and decided that this bird in the hand, no matter what the price, was the only choice I had. I called back and left another message acquiescing to his higher fee. All the while, I was in and out of theatres afternoon and evenings, deking out at intermissions to see if any messages had been left. Another day went by. Then he called me back leaving a message with an even higher fee demand!  I couldn’t believe this was happening, but he had us (me) over a barrel, and he knew it. Finally out of steam, I left the last message okaying the fee and gave him all the details for the engagement. I got in touch with Monaco, told him the sub was all arranged (I didn’t mention the ransom) and gave him the address to overnight the score so this brigand of a musician would have a few hours to look over the music. It was now Friday, and this had taken five days to lock down. Some days I earned my salary!

It was right into the relative safety of “Wizard” rehearsals once home. The day before we began, Don Horsburgh and I had sat for four hours going over the music in great detail and getting to know each other better – a meeting that paid off in spades once into rehearsals. We each knew where the other was coming from. As usual, we began with the Principals singing all their material. It was another case of some trepidation on my part as I’d cast the show without having Don available for auditions. But my casting choices had worked out for “Miss Saigon”, and I hoped for the same response here. I was slightly miffed that some of the Ensemble folk had not looked at my assignment sheets I’d sent out weeks earlier and let them know it. But the kids knew their material and were spectacular. Don was pleased with the quality and told me so, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Since Rainbow is an outdoor Theatre, there was no air conditioning, and the July heat was bad and getting worse. Fans had been set up all over the place but only served to move the hot air around. Morgan wasn’t having a good time either. He was pretty clingy, sticking close by me during chaotic rehearsals and sleeping in the car all the way home. Since we had the actual stage and set at our disposal, ‘Flying By Foy’ was brought in early to do the system set-up and get cast and crew preliminarily familiar with the dynamics of “flying”. Some high-end performers told me they had decided to take Ensemble work only because it involved a lot of flying as members of the Witch’s Monkey Army. With every space being used for dancing, scene work, music sessions and with the heat as our constant companion, I was back in the thick of Summer Theatreland!

Time seemed to speed by, but there was little upheaval or challenge. The cast was having a good time and even Morgan had grown used to the routine. When not in my lap watching (or sleeping), he would stand between my legs while I directed. The first run-through on the scene deck with some costume pieces had him very involved. Whenever Brenda as the ‘Witch’ came out in her black dress and pointed hat, cackling and in “commotion mode”, Morgan would go nuts, skittering across the floor toward her barking and growling which sent everyone into gales of laughter. Then, having issued his warning, he’d run back into guard position between my legs. Everything went incredibly smoothly from the beginning of rehearsals to almost the end.

When we moved to the stage, the Foy became the problem. Well, not the Foy set-up itself (that was perfect) but, rather, the crew who was operating it. As I have mentioned elsewhere in this Blog, IATSE, the Stage Hand’s Union, issues a call to its members to work a show and anyone can accept that call. Anyone. Aside from being a member-in-good-standing, no parameters, no requirements, no specific abilities are required. Just “you’re hired”. It’s one of their shortcomings. In most cases, it works out, but Foy Flying needs guys to do more than just pull ropes. They have to be able to think on their feet, make adjustments in the moment, finesse a movement and, above all, maintain focus. It’s dangerous work with people whizzing around twenty feet above the stage. Two of the four guys on the system could only be classed as “grunts”! There are two main controls. One set of wires allows for travel left and right above the stage. The other set operates the up and down motion of the performer hooked up to the wire. As the runs progressed and despite constant corrections from the Foy technician, the two pea brains on the “travel lines” never did it the same from one run to the next! It drove me to distraction. There was one run-through when they took two performers completely off the wrong side of the stage leaving the crew no way to get the flying mechanism back to the other side for their next cue… and that was after rehearsing it for almost a week. That was also the night I lost it and went ballistic. As soon as the last scene was over I raced up the stairs onto the stage and started screaming “Bullshit! Bullshit!” at the top of my lungs. The terrified cast parted like the Red Sea as I stormed through them toward the backstage left area. “Are you guys insane? I yelled. “Have you completely lost your minds?” “Do you know what crap that was?” I went on a tirade that lasted for two minutes. I don’t know where all the words were coming from, but they kept pouring out of my mouth. I could see Mark, the Lead Tech, standing off to the side nodding his head. He told me afterward that it was the best thing I could have done at that moment.

My tirade sort of made a difference for a couple of nights if only because Ken, who was also acting as Production Manager to save some money, stood beside them backstage watching what was going on. They had instruction sheets for each specific fly. All they had to do was read the directions, wait for the cue from the Stage Manager, and pull the wires. But even after we opened there were strange things going on which, for the life of me, I could never understand. Couldn’t they see what was happening? Flying at Rainbow? For me? Never again!

As for the production, I was very proud of it. The pacing was great, even at two and a half hours. Even though I’d watched it dozens of times, I never got bored. I told this to the cast in my “farewell to the troops” speech the night before we opened. I let them know that their story was clear and that they looked comfortable and at home on stage. Chelsea was my little hero in all this, leading the cast despite being a wee bit scared of the challenge of carrying the show on her shoulders. The audiences loved her. Jeff, Tim and Cory all had personal qualities that defined their characters, kept everything real and never (well, rarely) went beyond the boundaries of good taste (read “playing for the laughs”).

The show did so well that it was decided late in the run to add three extra performances in the week following the scheduled closing. Once that was announced, ticket sales surged. Everyone was on board, but the extension was a no-go for Chris Sigurdson, our ‘Wizard’, who had other obligations. To everyone’s delight, there was a natural choice to take over the role. Me! I had done the part years before at Rainbow and, sitting through rehearsals and runs and performances, the lines were pretty easy to cram. The cast seemed to re-charge with a new face on deck and it put a new zing into the final shows. It felt very comfortable to step into the role, sort of a full circle in my experience with “Wizard”.

Another major project had fallen into our laps a few months back. Well, actually, it hadn’t “fallen”. It was urged, seduced and enticed onto our roster by Sam’s relentlessness and our growing reputation. It was a new musical called “The Pirate Queen” by the writing team of Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Shonberg, creators of “Miss Saigon” and “Les Miz” and we were now the Music Coordinators for the production. This was huge! The show was in staging rehearsals in New York by now and Sam was madly back and forthing between NYC and Chicago, trying to establish the final orchestrations for the production in order to start lining up the best musicians for both cites. Following the current rehearsals, the whole company would then move to Chicago for a couple of months to build and develop the show before opening on Broadway. And that’s where Sam and I came in … in spades!