Gather ’round, children, and I will tell you the story of the J/K Tree.
(For anybody over the age of 20, or people who spend too much time in real life, and not enough time on the internet, “J/K” is text-speak for “just kidding.”)
This summer at Reagle the J/K Tree has become a metaphorical representation of anything that happens onstage when it’s not supposed to.
It began at the start of the summer, with our first show, Into the Woods. The set consisted of a bunch of two-dimensional trees covered in random text from fairy tales, as though they were cut out of the pages of books. Like so:
There were ten trees at various depths and locations, which would fly in in seemingly random patterns to define different areas in the story. In reality, which tree was in which scene was often very important to direct focus and allow access to certain parts of the stage while concealing others. But for the purposes of running the show, there was really no easy way to remember when a certain tree was supposed to fly. You just always had to have the right linesets moving.
Sometimes the wrong tree or set of trees would move. I had a tree-tracking table in a sheet protector on my desk which showed all the moves, the cue numbers, and most importantly, all the trees that were supposed to be in after a given cue had completed. Generally if it was found that a mistake was made, we would just have to deal with it for that scene and assign fly cues so that on the next transition we would end up with all the right trees in.
Until the J/K Tree. The J/K Tree was known to the director and the cast as Tree #2. It was known to the crew as lineset 7. I had to memorize both sets of numbers, which gave me a headache. Anyway, there was one particular transition, on one particular night, when Tree #2 flew in when it wasn’t supposed to. Because it was pretty far downstage, and close to center, it caught attention right away, and I and several other people immediately cried out that it was wrong. But it was coming in like it meant to, and being the center of attention, couldn’t just come halfway in, stop, and then go out. We figured, as we usually did, that we would just have to live with it until the next possible transition. As soon as it landed I mentally scanned ahead in the show to figure out when it could make a graceful exit.
Immediately I realized the problem: this was the transformation scene, where the Witch turns into a beautiful woman. There was a special in the floor that would shine right up at Rachel. I knew the special was just downstage of Tree #2, so her mark for the transformation would be exactly where the tree is. I said, “It can’t be here for the transformation, get it out!” and away it went, almost as soon as it had come in. As it casually returned to the sky, someone on headset commented cheerfully, “J/K!” And from then on it became known as the J/K Tree. Because of the words painted on the trees, we thought it would have been nice if it actually had the letters J and K on it, but I don’t think we ever inspected it that closely.
So through our techs of later shows it’s been the joke when something happens when it’s not supposed to, and is then quickly, and not so subtly, corrected — such as a dramatic light cue called early and then backed out of, or an actor who starts to sing before their cue and then stops — “Oops! Fly in the J/K Tree!”
It’s one of those you-had-to-be-there stories, but I noticed that I used “J/K” in my video in the previous post, and figured I should explain the particular history of it among our crew.
As you know, my Macbook Pro’s screen finally died this week. It died after I got home from the show on Wednesday. Thursday morning I brought it to the theatre and plugged it into the spare light board monitor in my office. There it served sort of like a desktop computer, while I had to write down the running times with a pencil, of all things. Then I took notes on my iPhone. Then at intermission and after the show I went to the office and actually entered everything into the database.
Between shows I went to the Apple Store and bought a new Macbook Pro. I got it home about an hour-and-a-half before our van call for the evening show, so I got as far as cloning my old drive (almost) before I had to leave. As the transfer was still going on, I decided I really could survive without a computer for one performance.
Nick had a good idea, which was for me to email him the database file so I could have his computer on the calling desk, and it would be exactly the same as usual — except his 13″ Macbook would fit on the desk better.
When we arrived I went out on a Starbucks run. I was feeling good about my purchase, and still have a ton of money on my Starbucks card (because we’ve rarely been near a Starbucks on the road), so when Nick tried to give me money to pick him up something to drink, I said I’d take care of it. We then agreed that the venti iced tea lemonade would be payment for the rental of his computer.
When I got back to the office with our drinks, Bobby was sitting at my desk, and casually gestured to a piece of paper and said, “Nick left you an invoice.” I really wasn’t gone more than 10 or 12 minutes, and Nick came up with a brilliant plan. I have encased it in a sheet protector and hung it in our road box.
Nick’s Macbook on the calling desk (which is very crowded and normally requires my script pages to lie on top of the wrist rest, so the 13″ size was a nice change!)
Nick has already done his crew post, but I’m going to do one too.
Left-to-right in the photo:
Bobby – Technical Director
Bobby is the boss of the crew, and also takes care of most things involving our travel, like bus calls, hotels, and collects the money for crew rooms and the bus driver’s tip. Bobby spends the entire load-in instructing the local crew in the construction of the set, and at load-out supervises taking it down. He doesn’t have a show track, although he has done the ASM track for a few performances, and did the one move the second props track has when we were short-handed.
Olivia – Props Supervisor
We called Olivia by name as “Props” for a couple venues, when it was discovered that that was her billing in the program (as opposed to everybody else who’s “Lighting Director,” “Wardrobe Supervisor,” “Sound Supervisor,” etc.). That got straightened out when we got to New York, where she was then “Properties Supervisor,” which we all then said in a haughty voice. Now she seems to just be “Props Supervisor.” Naturally, she’s in charge of props. She’s also our truck boss. She and I keep the truck pack paperwork updated as things change.
Devon – Lighting Director / Balcony Safety Test Dummy
Devon supervises the preparation of the lights during load-in, but spends most of his time on his Macbook Pro, creating a custom light plot for every venue, that takes into account how many instruments they have (and what kind), how many dimmers are available, and what kind of lighting positions exist. Basically every venue gets their own lighting design that recreates the original as much as possible with what’s available. Because he spends so much time looking at each venue, he’s often the first to catch potential problems and warn me and Bobby when we might need to prepare for something.
He is also the Balcony Safety Test Dummy because he is often the first person to stand on the balcony when it’s installed, before the stairs are attached to it. A lot of our focus can’t be accomplished until the balcony is up, so Devon is usually chomping at the bit to get on it as soon as it’s “safe.”
Me! – Production Stage Manager
I do all the PSM stuff of course — I call the show, write reports, make sure the cast has whatever show-related information they need (since I don’t travel with them, the company manager handles their day-to-day schedule, aside from rehearsal or show calls). During load-in, I look over the space with Nick and do some basic set-up stuff (claiming our office space, printing any additional signage needed), and then go help Devon with focus for the next few hours. During load-out I’m on the truck crew, and maintain the truck pack paperwork.
Jason – Wardrobe Supervisor
Jason also served as Assistant Costume Designer on the show, so he’s been with the show longer than the rest of the crew. Naturally he maintains all the costumes and wigs, and he also has a full show track, which incorporates all the most difficult parts of the three wardrobe/hair tracks that existed at the Guthrie, so that the cast has a consistent person doing their most difficult changes. He is also on the truck crew, where he is immensely valuable for his height, long arms, and strength. Jason and I do the wall pack, which is its own special kind of Tetris with dozens of different-shaped pieces that have to go in the right way or else they won’t fit.
Nick – Stage Manager / Human Cue Light
Unless you’ve been blog-reading under a rock, you will have seen me reference Nick’s Tour Blog before. Nick has been my assistant since last year. During load-in he does most of the stage management stuff, such as putting up the callboard and directional signage around the theatre (using his signage purse), taping actors’ names over their dressing tables, distributing and collecting valuables bags, and using his trusty roll of white gaff tape to mark out which wings actors should enter from, and where obstacles exist backstage. He also assists Olivia with the setup of prop tables and the placement of Fred the Platform, which almost always requires some discussion. During the show he runs the deck. His track consists mostly of being a human cue light, cueing actor entrances (and a few crew moves) with hand signals. We decided this was easier and more reliable than worrying about actual cue lights, and unlike last year, his track is really simple, and without those cues he’d probably die of boredom. At load-out he’s on the truck crew, where his specialty is strapping all our stair units to overhead load bars.
Matt – Sound Supervisor / Stunt Carpenter
Matt loads in the sound equipment and mixes the show, as well as tying our wireless comm into the house system and making sure there are backstage monitors, and paging when available. He has one of the shorter load-ins, so he has taken on a role we like to call Stunt Carpenter, because he does a few specific parts of the set construction that are too difficult and/or dangerous to give to the local crew, most notably the attachment of the cornices (which are huge and waaaay heavier than they should be) to the top of the set. If he’s done with his Stunt Carpenter duties onstage, he usually joins the truck crew for the part of the truck pack where the cornices and other large objects are lofted up over the road boxes into the nose of the truck.
Bobby has been filming our load out from various locations in and outside the theatre. He has compiled all these into a single video showing the entire process. Note especially the part of the truck footage where we occupy ourselves for the half hour we spend waiting for the walls to be down.
If you’re interested in seeing more, the videos are online in their entirety:
Nick’s signage purse deserves its own post.
During the few days that Nick was off the tour, I had the opportunity to do his job myself. One of the things I have always been dissatisfied with is how we have organized our signage. All our signs live permanently in sheet protectors and there are many different types, and they’re slippery, and carrying a bunch around, along with tape and a dry erase marker, is a huge juggling act. And carrying just a few is a pain because you can’t just make a path around the theatre, you have to keep coming back for more.
So I grabbed an expandable folder thing, which was used by our predecessors and filled with old signage, took out all the old signs, and categorized it for our signs. When we got to New York, I showed my rough creation to Nick, and we both agreed that it needed a shoulder strap, because holding the folder was only slightly less annoying than holding the loose signs. So we cut a bunch of tieline and sized it for Nick. At first he was not happy that the folder was pink, but soon embraced it.
