Intern-al Monologue - Week 3

Hello, Lyric Arts fans. Frustration is the word of the day today. Deep-seeded frustration. Gobs and gobs of the stuff. If it were possible, and if there were actually a market for it, we would depose this frustration into a solid, package it, and sell it overseas for top-dollar, such is the level to which we seethe.

But that is a story for later in this post. Let me tell you what this thing is. This blog thing. My 'Intern-al' monologue.

Get it?

Every year, the intern for Lyric Arts has been asked to post once a week about the experience of working here, and to give you all faint glimpses of the personalities that make our theater go, as it were. I want to give you guys the full experience of working here, and that's what these posts are going to be about.

Which brings us to the bits about being frustrated.

I have been fighting the software that we use to post to the site for almost fourteen hours now, trying to get a blog post up about Strike, which happened last weekend, on the 15th and 16th. For some reason, our site refuses to accept my uploaded pictures, and maybe one in twenty images I submit to the server make it through our website's hair-trigger gag reflex.

I took over a hundred pictures. You can see my dilemma.

In addition, I have been tasked with gathering the audio for tonight's Season Subscriber meeting, and the instruction manual for our recording device is straight-up THICK. I've been talking to Matt, our front-of-house manager, about it, and we're pretty sure we have it all solved, but only time will tell if I've irreparably damaged any of our expensive audio equipment. I'm operating the sound board for tonight's event, so you can blame that loud screech twenty minutes in on yours truly.

In the shop, the maneuvering of the giant hairspray can for our production of 'Hairspray' went off swimmingly, until we tried to find a place to stand the behemoth. We ended up moving the nine-foot-tall can to four separate spots before finally deciding to move it behind the seats in the theater. The cast of Hairspray, we decided, would get the honor of moving the beast down the stairs to our backstage prop storage.

(This is where a picture of the can would go, looming against the blackness that is the inside of the theater, looking as smug as a can of hairspray is able. Just use your imagination.)

Finally, as we mustered all our might to lift a primary prop for production, the walls to the Corny Collins Show stage, a screw broke in the wood that formed a crucial crossbar on the upper edge, and immediately, our staff went into panic mode as we frantically tried (and thankfully, succeeded) to get it somewhere that it wouldn't break any further. It may have been folly to tackle the wall, weighing over a thousand pounds, with only a handful of people. We realize that. But the show will go on, regardless of how much we need an extra day.

(Here, imagine a picture of a wooden wall, bedeck'd in 60's style curves and bevels, with a large gap near the top of it. Trust me, it looks pretty cool, all things considered.)

All of this came in the midst of our preparations for tonight's Season Subscriber event, an event that nearly every member of our staff is personally involved in, so there were spinning plates in the air to begin with, and the extra worries that are assailing every member of the production staff have everyone on edge. The event is slated to take place in a few hours, so I have scant time to prepare for what will be my first public-facing event as a staff member of Lyric Arts. The anticipation is killing me. Wish me luck.

As of next week, this feature ought to go up on Sundays, which I anticipate will be a more sustainable workload. Doing my blog at the office really gets in the way of my other duties, so the weekend ought to be easier for all involved.




Eric is a rising Sophomore studying Communications at North Dakota State University.