Post Mortem

Done and done. L.A. Blues is no more. At least this incarnation. And we won’t look back. Except for right now…

I would like to start by apologising for the lack of updates in the week before we opened (I know regular readers will have been devastated by the reduced coverage!). Things were intense, to say the least. As we approached opening night, each day seemed to bring its own disaster. So much so, that this installment is long. It’s still good though, I swear.

(i) Costume Woes

Hiring costumes from the Abbey is a double-edged sword. On the plus side, they have a great collection, the staff is incredibly friendly and helpful and the cost is relatively cheap for what you get. But against that, there are some big drawbacks. The warehouse is only open on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, between 10am and 4pm, which can make getting an appointment that works for you difficult. Also, and more frustratingly, there is no system for cataloguing the items in the warehouse. Which, when you think about it, is ridiculous. We knew exactly which costumes we needed but rather than type a unique code into a database and be given an exact location to pick it up, we had to scour the warehouse for desired items hoping that a) they were there (the lack of a database means that no-one knows what is in stock and what isn’t), and b) they were in the correct section. Of the seven items we needed, we were able to find five. One of Winifred’s dresses was missing (presumably with another company, but who knows?) as was her hat. Not ideal. So it was back to the dressing room to find a replacement. At the last minute we did get a new dress and it worked very well. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the new hat. After a rather spectacular hat malfunction during the dress rehearsal and a very close call in Act One on the opening night, it was decided that the hat would stay in the dressing room.

These may seem like minor issues but every little thing takes its toll. The costume work had been done before. All we had to do this time was pick them up and wear them. But because of a system (or rather complete lack thereof) outside of our control, we had to make last minute changes. The staff at the Abbey costume department are fantastic and did whatever they could to help us. But until a proper system is put in place, costuming a production will remain a bit of a crapshoot. And given that one has to pay to hire from the Abbey, that is unacceptable.

(ii) Sickness Woes

Tuesday 29^th May. 6pm – 9pm. Penultimate rehearsal before the get-in. Things go well. We are in surprisingly good shape.

Thursday 31^st May. 9.50am. Text message arrives. Matthew is sick, going to the doctor that morning. Diagnosed with septic throat and ear infection. Can’t make final rehearsal before get-in. Balls.

Thursday 31^st May. 6.00pm – 8pm. Rehearsal minus one cast member goes well. Gives us time to work on the niggly bits that have been a bit sloppy. Feel okay.

Saturday 2^nd June. 10.00am – 5.00pm. Set get-in goes well. Matthew’s eye looks suspiciously like something bad is going to happen.

Sunday 3^rd June. 11.00am – 8pm. Matthew’s eye seems much better. Tech get-in goes well.

Monday 4^th June. 7.16am. Text message arrives. Matthew is sick again, can’t make it in. Technical run-through replaced by quick top and tail and some individual scene tweaking. I am not a happy bunny. I am not a bunny at all. I am a ball. A tightly-wound ball. Of stress. And anger. I do not resent Matthew, but I hate his left eye. Hate it. Consider the possibility of having the character of Billy one-eyed.

Tuesday 5^th June. 3.00pm. Look for eye-patch for Matthew. Search unsuccessful. Devise method to construct eye-patch from felt and duct tape.

Tuseday 5^th June. 6.00pm – 10.00pm. Dress rehearsal pretty good (I think, see below). Matthew has use of two eyes. Stress begins to subside. Audience numbers panic sets in. I remain a tightly-would ball.

(iii) Lighting Operator Woes

When I was in college, I was a techie. I designed, rigged and operated lights. That was 2000 – 2004. On occasion since, I have helped a friend out whenever they were stuck. But for the most part, I no longer get involved in the technical side of things if at all possible. Not because I feel that I have risen above it. Far from it. Part of the reason is that I do not want to take on too much responsibility. Also, as I have said before, collaboration is good, vital even. With actors and techies. Although perhaps on different aspects of the production.

The lighting for L.A. Blues was designed by the fabulous Gráinne O’Driscoll. She has designed the Winedark shows for the last number of years and has kindly worked with Neon Fringe too. But Gráinne doesn’t operate. That job belongs to Colm Kinsella – Winedark’s lighting operator/stage manager in residence. The problem this time around was that Colm was on holidays for the get-in and part of the run and was therefore unable to act as operator. Which left us a little bit fucked.

We tried calling in a number of different people. People we knew and trusted and will happily work with time and time again. They were already working on other shows. We sent out a call for anyone with experience who was interested to get in touch. Nothing. Which meant that there was only one option left open to us. I had to do it. It was with reluctance that I took on the role. I hadn’t done it in a long time and didn’t know if I would be able to do a good enough job. Also, if I was operating the lights, who was keeping an eye on the dress rehearsal? To make matters worse, Colm being absent also meant that we had no stage manager. Guess who had to step into that role? That’s right, yours truly. At least the redesigned show (see L.A. Blues: Redux, Part 2) meant that that role was drastically reduced.

In all, I had too much to do, too much responsibility on my shoulders. It all worked out in the end, I suppose. Certainly there were no disasters. But I did forget to do some things. Thankfully the cast had thought ahead and prepared themselves – otherwise we would have had some big problems. Write/director/operator/stage manager: it was not a pleasant situation to be in and one I hope never to have to repeat again.

(iv) The End

Three nights. Three packed houses. Three great performances. Each evening of L.A. Blues was met with huge audience approval and overwhelmingly positive feedback. People enjoyed watching it. We enjoyed doing it. The stress may have been worth it after all. Who am I kidding? We at Neon Fringe do this because we love it. We don’t make much (read: any) profit but we cover our costs – thanks to the support of those who come along to share in (and hopefully enjoy) our artistic endeavours. And until the Abbey come calling, we’ll continue to forge our own path.

And that’s it for L.A. Blues – The Director’s Blog. Unless and until we revive it down the line. In the meantime, look out for details of our next production – hopefully premiering in the autumn – on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks for reading.

Chris Lynch

Problems Continue To Mount

*The following was written on May 30th 2012*

Another week, another disaster. This time two-pronged. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried…

Regular Winedarkers will know that productions always run from Wednesday until Saturday. L.A. Blues, however, is only running from Thursday until Saturday. The reason? The venue has another event on on the Wednesday. This is itself is not a major problem. When we produced Love in the Time of Social Networking, we were unable to use the theatre on the eve of the production. That time, though, we were able to rig our tech beforehand and leave it up. This time is different.

You see, the event taking place in the Cobalt Café the day before we open is a wedding. That means we have to clear everything out on the Tuesday. All set, all lighting equipment. Everything. I understand why the management are demanding it. My question is, has anyone asked the bride and groom? I mean, who wouldn’t want a 1940s style cabaret bar set and matching lighting as a part of their wedding day? Honestly.

So we have a get-in on the Bank Holiday weekend and a dress rehearsal on the Tuesday night, before clearing out completely to leave the space empty for the Wednesday and coming back on the Thursday to start the show. The gap of a day doesn’t bother me. In fact, I have always been of the opinion that too many run-throughs can actually spoil a production. Let the cast and crew have a day of rest (yes, director’s are god-like). If the play still needs work the day before it opens, you’re in more trouble than one more run-through can fix. No, the problem isn’t the gap. It is that fact that on the day we open, we have maximum three and a half hours to completely build and dress the set and rig and focus the lights. Never have I been involved in a production that has had such a short get-in time and such a small crew to do it. Freaking out doesn’t cover it. But my team assure me that it is not only possible but that it is ‘grand’. I hope for all our sakes it is.

That’s prong one. Prong two is that out usual lighting operator, the guy who operated the lights for the last run and who knows the cues, is unavailable for the duration of our get-in. So we need another new person to get involved. That’s right, more change! To be frank, I can do it myself and it is looking increasingly likely that I will have to. But I would really rather not. So if you are a lighting operator or you know one, please do get in touch with us and come onboard. I can guarantee that you will have fun. We can be contacted on 086-0591346 or at neonfringe@gmail.com.

Come and join us.

L.A. Blues: Redux, Part 2

*The following was written on May 24th 2012*

In the words of Ozzy Osbourne, we’re going through changes. Not the menopause, you understand – we’re too young/old/masculine (delete as appropriate) for that. No, L.A. Blues is changing again. Which is becoming quite the theme this time around, I suppose. I have already written about the new cast, poster, dynamic, director/actor decisions, etc… New is the new new and all that. The difference is that while each of the previous circumstance-changes has resulted in more than a little expleting (is that a word? it is now) and kicking of furniture, the latest batch of tweaks are entirely intentional. Because, despite the impression I may have been giving, change isn’t always a pain in the arse. Yes, it is annoying when the European football causes Coronation Street to be switched to a Thursday, but sometimes change is good. During the previous run of L.A. Blues, there were decisions made concerning blocking during rehearsals that turned out to be an annoyance during the actual run of the show. [Blocking, for those unfamiliar, is the term used when deciding where the actors move/stand/etc…]

Those familiar with the Cobalt will know that it has no stage. But it also has no raised seating. For L.A. Blues we needed one or the other. So we built a stage (see picture below for the undressed stage). As you can see, the stage was split in two – an upper, smaller area and a lower, larger one. For the first run, I decided that most of the action should take place on the lower level. It was more central and closer to the audience. The problem was that it made some of the most important scenes very difficult to see. Key lines and actions were delivered from a sitting position and I don’t know how much the audience missed. For me, and I’m sure for others, some scenes might as well have been from a radio play. No one complained. No one even mentioned it. But I noticed it. And it bugged the shit out of me every night.

So doing it again given me a chance to address the mistakes made back in December. A lot of the action has been flipped – scenes that took place on the lower level now occur on the higher one, and vice versa. Interestingly, as well as (fingers crossed) allowing the audience to see more of the action, it has allowed us approach things in a way that we hadn’t realised before: Does it really matter that Billy now goes to the bar rather than sitting at his table? Yes. Does moving Winifred away from the action in Act 2, Scene 2 really increase the tension? Yes. How much meaning can moving a cocktail glass really have? A lot.

I don’t know if anyone who saw the show the last time will notice. Hopefully you will. Hopefully you will enjoy it more and get more out of it. Even if you don’t, I think it is important that you come along again and see for yourself. Which is better, L.A. Blues or L.A. Blues: Redux. You won’t know unless you see both. Go on, you know you want to...

Tickets can be reserved by calling 01-8730313 / 086-0591346 or emailing neonfringe@gmail.com

L.A. Blues: Redux, Part 1

*The following was written on 18th May 2012*


There is a period between casting and the first read-through during which a director experiences a number of things:

1. confidence that he has the perfect cast 
2.  a combined feeling of doubt and fear that he has cast the wrong people
3. an inability to remember exactly what each auditionee was actually like
4. a sense of self-belief that he must have made the correct decision
5. a renewed (and infinitely more potent) feeling of doubt and fear that he has cast the wrong people
6. acceptance that what is done is done and that everything will work out fine (a mental state made more manageable with the knowledge that if it doesn’t work out, he can always fire everyone and look for replacements)

The above is a fairly accurate description of how I felt in the week between casting our new Fats Rothstein and actually having the whole cast sit down together and read through the script. I needn’t have worried so much. Killian has proved a worthy addition to the cast and is very much holding his own against Sorcha and Matthew.

But, as I had feared, things are different. This is no mere revival anymore. Each actor (sometimes rightly, sometimes wrongly) has his own interpretation of a role, a line, a movement. Each actor also has their own energy. All of this affects how the other actors act and react. Which effects the production as a whole. In short, while we expected to begin again for every scene that features Fats, we did not anticipate revising the scenes from which he is absent. For example, decisions made by myself and the actors in rehearsing Act 1, Scene 2 (the initial meeting of Winifred and Fats) have resulted in a need to look at how Winifred and Billy behave in Act Two.

I’m not complaining. Well I am. But not because of the changes. Theatre is a creative process and change is necessary – to force one actor to mimic his predecessor is unfair and unproductive. I am delighted that we are moving in a new direction. It has allowed us to explore the script in new ways and gives us an opportunity to make the play even better than before. The problem is that we timetabled the pre-production period based on a revival structure. And now we are starting from scratch within a very short timeframe. I’m happy to reboot. I just wish that we had more time.

Poster Problems

*The following was written on 12th May 2012*

Here is our new poster. You will see from this very blog that it is more than a little different to our last poster for the same show. Why? you may ask. The last poster was cool and conveyed the tone of the piece perfectly. This, of course, is true – it was and it did. And indeed, the plan was to continue to use the original design with a nice sticker on the front announcing the new dates. But then we had to re-cast Fats and all of a sudden our poster needed not only new dates but also a new face. Stickers can only do so much. And the last thing I wanted was to give the impression that one of the cast was Pacman. So we needed to make changes.

Those readers who followed the blog back in late 2011 will know that the original poster design was a collaboration between myself and Katie McDermott. The natural solution was to contact Katie and make the necessary minor amendments. But the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of doing something different. I decided that since we had a new cast member and a new dynamic (more on that next time), we needed a new poster.

Taking a leaf out of Winedark Productions book, I wanted a single silhouetted image with text on a solid-colour background. So I needed an image that would sum up the play: a martini glass? A revolver? A woman? All were tried and revolver won. There was some debate amongst the team as to which colour the background should be – I favoured red, others blue. I was afraid that a blue background for a production called L.A. Blues would look to amateurish. I was wrong. Blue nails the tone of the play while my red version resembles some sort of straight-to-DVD sex thriller. Decision made.

If I’m honest, there are things I would like to change – some of the text needs repositioning and possibly re-sizing. But regardless of these niggles, I think it is a good poster, maybe a great one. Not necessarily in the pantheon of theatrical posters, but for this play. Certainly, it is a lot stronger than it’s predecessor. And that’s what matters for now.

Booking now open!

If you want to reserve tickets for L.A. Blues (seen it already? see it again!) then you can do so by following one of these very simple procedures:

Call 086-0591346. Let us know who you are, how many tickets you want and for which night.

Or: 

Email neonfringe@gmail.com and let us know who you are, how many tickets you want and for which night.

Spaces are limited so please do book early to avoid disappointment.

Auditions

* The following was written on 6th May 2012*

Re-reading the previous instalment, I realise I neglected to mention which cast member will not be returning this time around. It is Neon Fringe regular Andrew Deering. Which means we have a Fats-Rothstein-shaped hole to fill. And fill it we have! But more on that later…

Last time I bemoaned the process of auditioning. And having just completed it once more, my opinion has not changed. This time around, though, wasn’t quite as bad as when we were casting Love in the Time of Social Networking. Back in 2010, we held open auditions and suffered because of it – not creatively (that cast was a joy to work with and truly delivered) but administratively. Over the course of three hours we saw a lot of people. But we didn’t have a structure in place – one minute we had a group of eleven, the next a group of three. It was a mess. But it taught us a valuable lesson. This time around we were prepared.

First off, we asked actors to express an interest in auditioning and submit a headshot and CV. From this we narrowed down the list to those we wanted to meet face-to-face. We had a number of criteria: looks (Fats is an older character), theatrical experience and, perhaps surprisingly, grammar and presentation. This may seem harsh but if someone cannot correctly format their own CV then I would question their dedication and work ethic. If that makes me a bastard, so be it. As I said before, personality counts. So does grammar.

But I digress. We narrowed it down to ten potentials and called them in to audition. Naturally, there were one or two no-shows (automatically bridge-burning offence) but otherwise things ran pretty smoothly. Auditions ranged from bad to excellent and there was healthy discussion as to who would be best for the role. In the end it was a unanimously agreed that the role of Fats Rothstein would be played in this production by Killian Sheridan. He joins the returning cast of Sorcha Ní Chléirigh, Matthew O’Brien, James Barry and Margot Doherty. So no pressure!

Lastly, a note on the casting decision. I mentioned that it was unanimously agreed upon. You will also have noticed that I have used the word ‘we’ a lot in this piece. This is not a ‘Royal We’. It is a first person plural we. The auditioning was a collaborative effort. I firmly believe that casting should never be undertaken by one person alone. Yes, the director has final say but he should not underestimate the advantage of extra opinions. It is all too easy to get caught up in the audition of one actor and a team approach can help ensure that the director stays grounded. Of course, the opposite can be true and casting by committee can be equally disastrous. But a few choice collaborators can, and do, make all the difference. I guess time will tell…

Revivals Are Easy, Right?

*The following was written on April 30th 2012*

Anyone who has read any of the Neon Fringe Director’s Blogs before will know that I like to tell the truth. Whether it’s about the difficulties we have encountered trying to stage a play in a café, or the realisation that the script has problems that are in need of a major fix, my approach is the same: just write about it. Even if it means a) being wrong, b) coming across as a twat, or c) both. I like to think it makes for good reading and gives some sense as to what it is like for a small independent company to mount a production with limited resources in a city not known for giving breaks.

As you know, L.A. Blues is coming back. The expectation was that it would be easy. We still have the set, access to the costumes and tech equipment, as well as the same cast and crew. All we had to do was arrange a date with the venue and update the publicity material to reflect the new performance dates. Rehearsals would be minimal; nothing was changing. All the cast needed to do was re-learn their lines. It was to be a hassle-free production.

Yeah. Not quite. It turns out one of the actors cannot be involved. Which, for anyone who hasn’t seen it yet, is 20% of the cast. Not exactly ideal. So rather than the laid-back rehearsal period we had planned, we now have five weeks to find a new actor and slot him into the production. Which means pressure, stress, uncertainty and, worst of all, auditions.

Now, I don’t know about other directors but I hate auditions. I am aware of their necessity but I still hate doing them. The audition environment is an unfair one – how often has someone nailed an audition only to prove a total flop in the actual production? And what about those that do not audition well but, if given the chance, really can deliver?

Forgetting about the actor (who, let’s face it, has a pretty shit time of it), the audition process is far from enjoyable for the director. Sitting through the same piece of text as a procession of actors overact, underact and otherwise waste your time, waiting and hoping for just one that stands out. And what if there is more than one who makes an impression? Then there is the who-do-I-choose dilemma – the fear that you will make the wrong choice and doom the production to mediocrity, or worse. This, before taking into account those who arrive at the audition full of energy, personality and enthusiasm, only to turn out to be difficult, negative assholes. Personality plays a part. It doesn’t matter how good someone is if they are a prick; I don’t want to work with them – it’s not worth the effort.

But that’s not all. Leaving aside the hassle of auditioning, I have a bigger issue to fret over: We knew the show was good and we decided to revive it based on that. What if, after pushing to bring in a new audience, something doesn’t work this time around? What if we can’t pull the show together in time? What if the new guy turns out to be a) rubbish, b) an asshole, or c) both? What if, what if, what if. My stress levels are currently much higher than they should be. This was supposed to be a walk in the park. Right now, it feels like anything but. Auditions are tomorrow. We’ll see how it goes.

The Return of the Blues

* The following was written on the April 25th 2012 *

Back by popular demand. It’s not a phrase I like. It annoys me, if I’m honest. What exactly does it mean? Have you ever seen a protest march calling for the revival of a play? Signed a petition to show that society just won’t be the same without that production of whatever returning to the stage? I didn’t think so. And yet a lot of the time, we are going to see plays that the populous have demanded come back. The last production that I paid good money to see has returned for a second run. Seemingly, the theatre-going public have demanded it. Why, I’m not sure. It wasn’t much cop the first time around and I can’t imagine anyone who saw it really wants to see it again. But posters don’t lie, do they?

Back by popular demand, in actuality, has nothing to do with the public. But it sounds great. It sounds like your production was so good, so very very good, that people have been beating down your door imploring you to stage another run. In truth, the production company wants to run the show again and back by popular demand is a sure-fire way of letting people know that your production is great. So great that they have one more chance to see it again. It’s bullshit.

Which is why you will not find back by popular demand on the flyers and posters for the revival of L.A. Blues – A Musical Noir. Not because it doesn’t deserve to return but because we at Neon Fringe are trying to be honest about what we do. Yes, we do think the show is great and yes, we have had people ask us if we would be doing it again. But we have not been inundated by petitions or had protests staged outside our offices and houses. Any small theatre company who claims they do is probably lying.

At the end of the day, the show is back because we feel that it deserves another shot. The response to the first run was overwhelmingly positive. And we know there is an audience who missed it the first time around. Also, we enjoyed it. We want to do it again because we had fun.

So there you have it. L.A. Blues is back. But not by popular demand. Please come and see it.

I Had To Have Her

So we changed the play. It’s now a kitchen-sink drama about a Spaniard who marries into an Amish community in Indiana. And it is electric. Without the electricity of course.

Seriously though, we have changed L.A. Blues. But not drastically. The problem was the opening scene. Without going into details (spoilers and all that, ask me after you’ve seen it), the play opened in a very specific style with a very specific goal. The problem with this was that neither were really appropriate to the remainder of the play. This I knew from the beginning. I wrote the scene knowing it didn’t quite work. I figured that I would work it out later (you’d be surprised at how successful that approach often is). I tried different things, from minor changes to complete rewrites. But no matter what I did, I could not get the play to work as a whole with that scene included. So I did what all stubborn people do. I left it in and ploughed on.

The first indication that I was wrong to do so was the fact that most of the cast misunderstood the purpose of the scene. Bad writing on my part, I guess. So I explained it to them, fully expecting everyone to get on board and realised that, in fact, they were wrong and I was right. But no. Feedback was given and while it was difficult to hear, it was correct. The opening scene, as was, could only have a negative effect on the play as a whole. At worst, the audience would be angry. At best, confused. Not ideal.

So, it’s gone. Not altered. Not rewritten. Gone. And the play is better for it. Minor characters have more significance and character arcs more resonance. Most importantly, the audience will identify with all of the characters in a more meaningful way. Removing that one scene changes the ending and, to an extent, the tone of the whole play. In a good way. I dearly love my original idea and will use it at some point in the future, but in a play that needs and benefits from it. One of the dangers of directing one’s own work is having blinders to the faults that may exist within that work. Having people around that can and will point this out is vital. I’m not ashamed to say I was wrong. The play is now stronger than it was. And I’m proud of that. I just wish I’d listened sooner.

Ultra Wanky Model Box Photographs

It has been suggested (by more than one person I'll have you know) that I post my model box photographs. So here they are. Enjoy.

 

No Time For Small Talk

And now it’s time to talk about Kevin. Not really. It’s actually time to talk about The Zumbo Lounge. More specifically, the look of The Zumbo Lounge.

If any of you have ever been to the Cobalt Café on North Great George’s Street you’ll know that it is a stunning Georgian house with a really funky café on the ground floor. And anyone who has ever been to one of (co-producer) Winedark Production’s shows will know that it really is a great venue for cabaret style entertainment. Where better, then, to stage L.A. Blues?

Right from conception, the play was designed to be performed in The Cobalt Café. A site-specific location (using one of the definitions of that seemingly straightforward but actually somewhat confusing theatrical term) would allow the audience to be both spectator and participant. So The Cobalt Café becomes The Zumbo Lounge, the audience of the former becoming the audience in the latter. Which is all very well and good. Except that is makes it difficult for the audience (whether spectating or participating) to see what is going on. So we need a set. Which means designing a set. Something simple. Something that will give height but not detract from the aesthetic of the existing location. Easy done. The design, that is. Not everything else that followed.

I had the designs and layouts. I’d even done scale models using my model-box. Which sounds ultra wanky I know, but miniatures can be really cool and it did allow the actors to make sense of what we’ve been doing blocking wise before we get a chance to get into the venue proper. I’d priced the wood. I’d arranged equipment to cut it to size and a location to build everything. But, and this is a pretty big but, I had no way of getting the wood to where I needed it. Which was more than somewhat frustrating. Some of you may have noticed my plea for a van on Facebook a short while ago. This was a last ditch attempt to get things in motion early. Alas, I failed. So far...

But it is yet another thing to worry about. Never mind dealing with the actors and printers and costumers and all that other stuff... Still, I live for stress. Or so I try to convince myself. Because I don’t really. I hate stress. Hate it. I’m a fan of being prepared. Like the scouts, but indoor. But I’m resigned to the stress coming. I just didn’t expect it so soon. I’m not worried about the set per se – once we get it all sorted, it will look cool (there’s that word again – anyone would think we’re working on a 1990s indie movie starring Johnny Depp). Cool yet functional. Like an esky designed by Apple. 

Booking Lines Now Open!

Extra! Extra! Read all about it!

The booking lines are now open.

If you want to reserve tickets for L.A. Blues (and if not, why not?) then you can do so by following one of these very simple procedures:

Call 086-0591346. Let us know who you are, how many tickets you want and for which night.

Or: 

Email neonfringe@gmail.com and let us know who you are, how many tickets you want and for which night.

Spaces are limited so please do book early to avoid disappointment.

I Bought Her a Drink, She Blew Smoke in My Face

With opening night rapidly approaching (don’t worry cast members, it’s still a long way off), rehearsals are well underway.  For the first few weeks we had been working in isolation - acting and music rehearsals kept separate, allowing each of the performers to work on their own parts before we attempted a combination.

Until Thursday.

Last week we had our first proper run of the play with the musical elements included. And it wasn’t half bad. It wasn’t even a quarter bad. In fact, it was pretty good. So much time had been spent working on the ‘acting’ that I had forgotten just how much of a part the music has to play in the production. Suddenly the very serious dramatic scenes carried more weight and there was a much better flow to the piece as a whole. Obviously, as the play was designed and written this way, it shouldn’t have come as such a revelation. But there you go.

Not everything worked. Not every segue works as well in reality as it does on the page. How many of the songs are in-character performances? External commentary? Both? On a more specific level, one of the songs is far too long and really drags a scene down. This has nothing to do with the choice of song, or indeed the performance. The problem is a combination of context, length and situation. We’ll have to make changes to ensure that it works but I don’t doubt that it will.

I Knew I Had To Have Her

A note on poster design.

I am good at doing a lot of things. Most of them are entirely pointless skills (movie trivia retention being a case in point) but they remain something I’m good at. Working Photoshop is not one of them. I’ve tried. On more than one occasion. And failed. On more than one occasion. So in order to create promotional images for L.A. Blues, I needed help.

A good idea is hard to come by. And even when you do come by one, translating that idea into reality is not always successful, or even possible. This is especially true when working with someone else. Both individuals need to be on the same page, so to speak, striving for the same result. In this case, an image that was a fair presentation of the play. Not only fair, but cool. That probably reads as slightly childish – we wanted a cool poster. Well, think about it. L.A. Blues. A noir set in 1948 with mobsters, femme fatales and cabaret. Cool right? Exactly.

Researching old movie posters and pulp novel sleeves, I knew what I wanted. Sort of. I met with the designer (the fabulous Katie McDermott) and explained what I was thinking and left it with her. She came back with a design that I loved but just wasn’t exactly right. Back and forward we went, with ideas from both parties succeeding and failing in equal measure. But then, we got it. A poster that lets the audience know everything you need to about the play – character, period, tone. No one is going to arrive expecting a modern comedy with Linda Martin, that’s for sure. (Note to self – check Linda Martin’s availability for a modern comedy set in a cabaret bar).

In the end, it doesn’t matter who thought of what for where. (Although, for what it’s worth, I had very little to do with the design. I was more of a ‘minor alterations’ man – which I’m sure is every designers worst nightmare.) In the end, all that matters is that the result is great. That, and myself and Katie are still on speaking terms. It was a collaboration that worked. I say collaboration… but I’m massively grateful that at least one of us knew what she was doing. Check out the promotional images below and feel free to leave comments.

Right, who wants to know the director of photography for Home Alone? Anyone?

When In Came This Broad...

Hello. And apologies for the lack of action on the blog for the last while. Believe it or not, we've been busy with the actual production. No excuse I know, but a reason nonetheless.

To tide you all over until the next proper installment (which will be any day now and will prove a scintillating read*), here is the official blurb for the play. Enjoy!

L.A. Blues - A Musical Noir

"California, 1948. The City of Fallen Angels is a hotbed of murder, mystery and music. A place where nothing is sacred and everything is suspect. Where justice is for sale and corruption is a way of life.

Meet Winifred, a small-town gal looking to make it big; Fats, a brutal mobster with an eye for the ladies; and Billy, a young mechanic convinced of true love. When these three lives unexpectedly collide, passions are awakened and loyalties divided. Truth is only what you are made to believe. But who is the victim and who is the villain in this dark tale of deception, denial and death?

Starring Andrew Deering, Sorcha Ní Chléirigh and Matthew O’Brien, and with live music by James Barry and Margot Doherty, this musical noir will have your feet tapping and your heart racing. Featuring thirteen classic hits such as I’m in the Mood for Love, On a Slow Boat to China and Blue Moon, L.A. Blues will transport you to the cabaret clubs of 1940s America, where the only thing more dangerous than a bullet is a dame."

* not a guarantee

And There I Was, Minding My Own Business...

Hello. And welcome to the first in a series of Director’s Blogs for L.A. Blues. My name is Chris Lynch, writer/director for this production. By way of an introduction, a little on how we got to where we are…

The new play, a musical noir, is the first collaboration between Neon Fringe Productions and Winedark Productions. It is quite the departure for both companies and expectations are high that it will be a success.

The project began with the simple idea of a play with songs. Not a musical per se, but a drama with musical performances. A way for two companies with a close relationship to work together. Neon Fringe would supply the actors and Winedark the music. It was to be a cabaret of sorts, with the focus on a strong playlist and a few dramatic scenes to tie everything together.

Needless to say, as the script progressed and the play began to take shape, it became obvious that this would be much more of a coherent whole than originally envisaged. The story and the characters took over. No longer would the drama tie the music together. Rather the music would become an integral element in the story. A play with songs became a musical noir.

And what songs! The song selection for the production by James Barry is sublime. I defy anyone to not enjoy each and every one. Not only are they outstanding numbers, they complement and advance the story in ways I could not have imagined when writing the script. It is here that L.A. Blues became a true collaboration.

We have a long way to go. But the groundwork has been laid. I hope you will join us on our journey.