‘make’you, or ‘break’ you, with no apologies should it all go downhill fast. It can be pretty demoralizing at best, and at worst, make you want to hang up your tuxedo, sell the rabbit, and quit.
Many years ago, I was asked to do a last minute corporate show for a special luncheon, taking place in a good sized, banquet hall connected to fancy, modern arboretum.
My performance area was to be a typical, raised platform located directly in front of about thirty ‘10-top’ tables. All looked fine, except for the glaring fact that there were no less than six, five-foot wide planters, four feet high, made of mirrored glass, positioned in a straight row across the front of the stage. To add insult to injury, the tops of the planters were filled with tall bamboo shoots, creating a complete wall between the stage and the audience. I felt like I was working in the middle of a panda sanctuary.
I politely explained to the event planner that no one could recognize the stage, much less see my show, and she replied, “Oh, that’s fine. You can simply perform in front of the planters.” Now a newbie in the business would probably shrug their shoulders and agree, and that would be it. But that show would have suffered immensely.
Seriously, who decides to place large, mirrored planters behind a magic act? Not to mention the stage lighting would be bouncing off them and into the eyes of an irritated audience. At the end of that train wreck of a show, the audience, and the booker, would have come to only one conclusion: That the magician sucked. To make matters worse, hardly any of them would place the real blame on the set-up of the room, the location of the planters, the stage, etc. Nope. More than likely 100%
percent of the responsibility for the horrible time had by all would be placed upon the performer.
Now I could go on and tell you literally hundreds of stories like this, where you are stuck between a rock and hard place with an audience expecting you to pull miracles out of your butt. And we’ve all had them. But here’s what I did in this particular circumstance:
I replied to the lady in charge with, “No thank you. I want to make sure your audience has a great time today.
After all, that’s what you’re paying me for – Both my show and my years of experience presenting my show to groups like yours. If possible, let’s find another place for those planters.” She fidgeted just a bit and shook her head “NO”. After a rather awkward pause between us, she finally opened up explained that she had hired “this amazing designer” for the event and those planters were his cherished and brilliant contribution to the décor, and she didn’t want to “piss him off” by moving them.
Well, I was a little shocked to say the least. Here was a grown woman, who had been in the event planning
business for 20+ years, willing to jeopardize the entire entertainment presentation for 300+ attendees at this special luncheon because she was trying to avoid a conflict with a decorator. Wow. My mind raced quickly and I figured that giving her a proper education by example was the key. I gently took her by the hand and led her to a table front and center near the stage. I walked around the planters and stood center stage. “Can you see me easily? And can you also see what I’m doing with my hands?” (Knowing no one could see, I should have flipped her the bird.) She replied, “No. Can’t see a thing.”
“Okay, now I’d like YOU to stand up on this stage, and I’ll sit at a table.” And with that, suddenly it all ‘clicked’ for her. To put her more at ease, I volunteered to talk to the designer myself so the pressure was off her shoulders.
Why not? The designer wasn’t the one booking me, nor would he ever anyway. The event planner was able to save face, while the designer wound up throwing me dirty looks right up until show time. But the end result was that we were able to get those planters moved far away to another location in the venue. I felt like President Reagan delivering his “Tear down these walls!” speech.
The show, which followed the group’s luncheon, was a rousing success; thanks to the simple fact that every single person at every table could clearly see me, my props, and the volunteers I brought up onstage. And by the way, as a side note, the decorator stuck around for the show and realized how much more smoothly everything worked out. I also made sure to ask the crowd for a big round of applause on the décor, and mentioned the man by name. Professional Ass-Kissing 101, baby!
What I’m getting at here is that you have to literally fight for your show as much as possible in order to give the performance of a lifetime. You are your own, best champion. It doesn’t stop with the selection of the most practical routines or the choice of a prop case or table.
That fight also has to take down as many of the physical roadblocks and obstacles thrown at you before you ever set foot onto that stage. Even those people who have seen your show elsewhere (in a nice setting) and booked you for their upcoming event may not have your best interests at heart. And why should they? You are the professional and it’s up to you to speak your mind when it comes to how the stage and tables or chairs are laid out, and suggest the proper angles that don’t obstruct views, or making sure people aren’t seated to the extreme sides of the performance space, or even worse, sitting directly behind you.
The fight is never ending and extends to other factors like firmly requesting that your show only take place after the final dessert plate has been removed from the tables so there’s no dinner interruptions, or show interruptions. If the lighting is too dark because they are going for a “more intimate dinner setting”, you have to
have the guts to ask that the lighting be made brighter for your performance afterwards for maximum effect.
Don’t get timid on these things…ever.
The same goes for sharing a stage. How many times have you had to work alongside a DJ carting along all of his equipment or even a live band? Chat with those people about your specific needs and also see how you can help them with theirs. Be willing to move speakers and instruments before and after your show. Be creative and give 110% percent when it comes to solving problems and finding solutions. In the end, they will respect you, the booker will admire your professionalism, and the audience will get to see you do what you do best in the best possible setting for your show. It really, really, really, really, really (you get the idea) makes a difference.
I should provide a small word of caution here. I make sure to never be a pain in the ass about making all of my demands loud and clear when it comes to performing.
The first rule of thumb is to make sure that you have mentioned your technical requirements, and “Do’s
& Don’ts” in a straightforward manner in all of your correspondence and emails long before the show date arrives. Even in the contracts I send out, there are clauses that I consider so important that I require them to be initialed along with the signatures at the end of the agreements. This insures that those paragraphs have been noted and read by the bookers and event planners. I should also mention that not once, after any of my shows, have I ever had anyone complain about my earlier ‘demands’ or attitude, as they all quickly realize it was all done for the betterment of the show, the audience, and the evening at hand.
And now I’m going to add one more suggestion to this
“champion your own show” concept, and it’s this: Not only provide yourself with the best environment to do your show at a top level (within the limitations of the room), but also ask yourself what more can be done to
‘own’ that particular room during a show? How can I turn that space into a real advantage?
In other words, take the time to not only make the room work for you, but also see how it can actually benefit your act, your show, your routines, and even your sense of humor. If you go above and beyond the call of duty, people will sit up and take notice. I’m not kidding around here. They will sit up and take notice. Need I say it a third time?
For example, I was performing a multi-week run at the Tropicana Casino in Atlantic City. The theater seats around 1,500+ people and along the front edge of the stage apron were these small, little light bulbs which became flashing, running lights along the floor and the proscenium as well. They could blink, dim up or down, or ‘chase’ in one big circle around the frame of the stage.
During my act, the lights would remain ‘on’, dimly lit as not to detract from the show, but the audience could plainly see them.
In the middle of my act, I would casually look off into the wings on the either side of the stage, as if I didn’t want to be caught by anyone, and then (when I felt the ‘coast was clear’) I would reach down, unscrew one of the tiny bulbs and quickly toss it into my prop trunk. I would say, almost as an aside, under my breath, “My refrigerator light at home is busted.” This would get a huge laugh from the audience because it looked improvisational, in the ‘moment’, and, more importantly, it used the environment around me.
Another time during a large corporate event in a grand ballroom, I once hung a giant playing card with a cloth covering it from the bottom of a chandelier high up near the ceiling. I had discovered earlier that day during the technical run-thru that the tech crew could simply press a button and the chandelier would lower itself and the card automatically when I gave the cue. That little ‘visual’
element suddenly made my show appear to be custom fitted to the venue!
For smaller gigs in places like corporate meeting rooms, I’ve secretly placed a sealed prediction behind a prominent painting in the room. At the required moment, I would ask an audience volunteer to stand up, reach behind the picture, retrieve the package and bring it forward. The story line was usually that it was a special ‘message’ from the old guy in the painting who had founded the company. Audiences love creative moments like this. They eat them up like candy and during the next couple of days you wind up being the topic of conversation around the office water cooler.
So, I implore you to not only fight for your show to be the best it can be in whatever challenging venue you’re presented with, but try to take that all important, extra step to utilize that space in unique and creative ways in order to make the evening even more special and one-of-a-kind. Remember, the more you set yourself apart with your shows, original routines, and personality, the more people will remember you, take notice, and hopefully hire you and recommend you to others out there.
Please feel free to drop me a line, should you have any suggestions or questions I can help you with. Happy to do so, and those emails are often the key to inspiring new topics for my column here in VANISH. All the best, and I wish you much success!
email: [email protected]