Sampling dancing

Christmas has been and gone and the festive production has left us (excepting a wireless router mistakenly left behind) – so one of our recurring shows returns, a night (or two) of excerpts from different productions; literally a sample of dance.

While the brief is simple – we’ll present a half dozen or so pieces from different dance styles (flamenco, contemporary, ballet, hip-hop), the execution is very much based on a festival thought – bloody hard work and lots of extras.

Lets take sound as an example – It starts with just CD playback (so that means two players so we have a back-up source), and there’ll be a compere so that’s a mic (which needs to be wireless) and we’ll need a spare mic. And we’ll need a desk to play that through, with the house PA system and sidefills onstage for the dancers.

Then there’s going to be a video so there’s an audio feed from the video (which is sent via a vision mixer), and we have to add flat screens for the 2nd circle so they can see it clearly. Oh and this one group has wireless camera’s in their piece so we now need one projector aiming at a screen flown over the forestage (and we’ll need to rig the screeen) and a second projector aiming at the cyc, which will have to be flown so the performers shadows’ aren’t cast onto the cyc.

Oh yes, and they need to mic the sound of a flag waving …

When the flag waver is topless and onstage (and dances) …

Then the flamenco band who open the show are bringing their instruments and they are going to need mic’ing. Which means we need to allow time to set the mics up and strike them during the show. And if they are mic’ed then they will probably (certainly) need foldback monitors. And effects units, compressors and graphic EQs. And a wooden floor to dance upon. With more mics.

Oh, then there’s a tango band in the second half. And we’ll need a different selection of mics for them. And more monitors (luckily only the one!). And lit music stands. And they need a baby grand. So that’ll need storing somewhere during the show, until we can bring it on for their piece. And it’ll have to come on gently because it won’t have been tuned in the spot where it’s played (and we’ll have to get the tuner in for each show of course – and make sure it’s quiet for him).

And this solo artist needs yet another radio mic – and it can’t be shared because there isn’t time to swop the pack or the mic over from the flamenco, who are now using wireless mics by the way. And the EQ settings are different anyway. And don’t forget that his music cues are visuals.

And my favourite Isreali choreographer is only showing his work on the second night (replacing the wireless camera dance) but his CD has to be up in the lighting box as the LX cues go on the timecode from the CD.

And the whole event is being webcast so there’ll need to be a stereo feed to the VT crew.

And a separate feed to the camera’s for archive. Which are all in the auditorium in different places.

They’ll also need BNC.

And power. Clean power.

And comms.

And we’ll need to play a pre-show announcement. But the CD players are used by the flamenco group at the top of their piece, so that’ll have to be on MD.

But that’s okay because the tango group would like you to record their section onto MD also.

Oh, and the wireless camera group need to patch in a laptop to rehearse from. And so do the tango dance. Until the band arrives. But both laptops have different EQ set-ups.

And the wireless camera group also have particular EQ settings for their CD.

And the flamenco group could do with the sidefills being set-up slightly different, even though several groups have already rehearsed and won’t be back until they are onstage performing.

And the hop-hop group need some extra time to rehearse.

And their CD was scratched so they need to supply a second (third) CD which has to be tested.

How about the DJ in the foyer? Have to get a stereo feed from him that can be piped into the auditorium as play-in/play-out music.

And one of those wireless packs isn’t working so that needs to be swopped out.

And we need to add a couple of powered speakers to one of the several visual showcases in the foyer area.

And do you know how to get this Xbox 360 past it’s home screen so we can play the game?

Oh and the tango band has a guitar. With an amp. Are those two extra feeds going to mess up the channel allocations?

And both the in-house and hired amps for the onstage speakers don’t have signal links so we’ll need to send individual feeds – but they’ll all need to be controlled from the same couple of faders on the desk.

Phew.

By the time the curtain came down sunday night, our Midas was looking a little full about the gills. Of the 40 mono and 4 stereo pair inputs, there was but two single channels left – even the talkback input had a spare SM58 in.

Output wise was a lot clearer (no direct outs used and only two inserts) but we’d still managed to used the main LCR, a single group for subs, 11 of the twelve mix (aux) outputs, and all six matrix outs (with another pair of groups sent aside – in the end not used – as a floor mic sub group).

[Shop Talk]

The wireless was eight Trantec S5000 packs – six on flamenco (three MKE-2 on cello and guitars; two DPA4066 on male and female vocal; and a Beta 98UHF on cajon – with another MKE-2 on the solo artist (I want to call him a mime artist but a hip-hop clown would be more appropriate as he does use his voice). Plus we added a couple of our CH62 Sony’s as a handheld for the compere and as the flag mic.

The flag mic was an ME-104 which was clipped to the performers belt loop pointing away from his body with the pack in a velcro harness on his thigh under his trousers. It worked better than we though it would, though the final level of the music make it hard to pick up with sufficient level to be truely useful.

The tango band was mic’ed with a pair of C414s on the baby grand, a C3000 on the double bass, an SE300 on the acoustic guitar with a direct link from his amp and a SM81 over the violin. The final instrument – a bandoneon – used a pair of Beta 98 from the musicians own collection.

All foldback speakers (sidefills and musicians monitors) were d&b Max 12, powered by Lab.Gruppen and Yamaha amp. This was the first outing for our new monitors and they performed extremely well , easily outclassing our old Tannoy T12s’, even run passively (and my first job was to open them up and alter the pins to run them from two core cable).

Everything was run through our Midas Legend and the in-house dbx-166A, Rane Ge-60 and Yamaha SPX-990 provided outboard.

[/Shop Talk]

The shows went mostly well – until the flying system crashes right before the interval on the second night. One of the joys of having powered flying, when it crashes, there’s not a huge amount that can be done. Fortunately, all the flying for the second half was fairly simple and could be done directly from the winches (with manual stops – of the “stop now!” kind). Of course, nothing ever goes awry by itself so the piece that I only had one CD for skipped like a rabbit on steroids. Every other piece was either done by musicians or had two CDs. The two dancers, consummate professionals, kept on dancing in time in silence and thanked their lucky stars that it was only two minutes from the end. I kept my swearing to a minimum.

Please, please, please if your piece is on CD (or MD, or whatever), please supply media that has been stored properly and not used as a coaster. Look at the CD and if you can see any smudges, scratches, scraps or smurf messages (unidentified coloured traces) please burn a new copy (TWO!) and place it in a proper, sealable container – Jewel case please not folds of paper or open cardboard holders. Give two copies to the sound operator far enough in advance that s/he will have time to listen fully to both copies. We can not guarantee that we’ll have time, or the resources to be able to burn a backup copy. And if the disc given works fine, then we may not even see the need to do so (well, we always see the need, it may just end up a little low on the priority list).

The only other note was to keep up to date notes at all times – once or twice, we made changes to the patch (normally as an additional input was added during a companies rehearsal time) and inadvertantly unpatched something else. We had allowed enough time to check for this sort of thing and so nothing impacted on the show (just!).

All in all the show went well though. I’ll add the link for the webcast archive as and when it gets posted online.

Right, I’m off for a brief rest until the next show rolls in.

That would be 9am tomorrow then.

Sigh.

Memoirs of a Christmas

Things to remember from the Winter-een-mas (yes, I’m reading Ctrl+Alt+Del at the minute) that has just passed (hey, my Winter show is still playing – it’s still the festive season for me!):

Having a 80 litre CO2 tank vent in a lift with me in it. And no ear defenders.

Venting a full size CO2 tank outside and no-one paying the least attention. Ah, the power of wearing a high visibility jacket.

Having the man from BOC dumping the excess CO2 from his truck and scores of frightened commuters on the 38 bus wide-eyed at the clouds of smoke obscuring us from view.

Putting a life-sized model raven on the window sill to greet Dr Druss as he opens it – YYARRRGH!

Having a scroller PSU change it’s address spontaneously.

Learning all electrics cues (sound, LX board, stage LX and two spots) in the space of about two weeks – mostly by having to do them with no rehearsal.

Finding out that the company who supply fluid for the snow machines closes for two weeks over Christmas. How ironic.

Watching one of our stage hands running backwards to avoid being run over by a bed. With a chair in one hand. Every night.

Realising that the artificial intelligence of the players in PES2008 is not intelligent at all. Really not.

Absolutely everyone likes at least one game in Wii Sports. Even the dog.

Marks and Spencer do great food (especially as you can pre-order the food for Christmas ready to be cooked.)

A floor to ceiling book case looks a bit crap unless it is mostly full of book … then it looks the most natural thing in the world.

Our Stage tech makes the best Christmas cake (and mulled wine) in the world – but wife number 1 makes better mince pies.

Railway operators should really stop taking up half the train with first class. In fact, railway operators should really stop taking the PISS!

A week (and a bit) in the life of …

Regular readers will know that we seem to have a habit of picking the winter months to undergo some kind of DIY project – Two years ago we decided the best use of our Christmas was to buy a new flat then rip out the bathroom and repaint the whole flat. Last years escapades included the whole sound-dampening episode (see here) and helping our best man move into a flat as far from the ground as he could find (okay, only 3 flights of stairs but enough when you are carrying a TV, washing machine, freezer and half a catalogue sales shop).

This year we decided that having a floor to ceiling book shelf wasn’t enough fun so we had both my mum and my best man (again) move into new properties within weeks of each other.

The best man had arranged a box trailer for the movement of various bits and pieces from a lock-up in Uxbridge to his new house on the edge of the New Forest, to be lovingly towed by my usher – lets call him Ben (cos it’s short to write!). Ben then was coerced into transporting a bed from the same lock-up to the suburbs of Bristol – after all he had a trailer and had to go to the lockup in any case.

And then, because he was going to be in roughly the right part of the country, we collared him into diverting by rural Gloucestershire to help divest Mum of some of her furniture, prior to her own move to the wilds of central Birmingham.

Keeping up so far?

So on a cold and rainy Monday night – wife number 1 having done a show, me having spent the day talking IP addresses to an errant surtitling system – we found ourselves at West Ruislip, stepping back as an apparition appeared from the murky darkness, coalescing into the murky form of Ben and his near new as damnit Land Rover Discovery. Called Phil.

We crashed at Ben’s house that night in a sofa bed that we are pretty certain was a ‘V’ shape – certainly it was cosy in that bed (Ben and and the present Mrs Ben not included).

Tuesday morning had us at the lockup moving Land Rover wheels and fluffy dice to release a disassembled double bed and mattress. Then we set off. 0.6 miles achieved. First 3-point turn.

Carol’s dulcet tones guided us (what else do you call the Sat-Nav?) to and along the M4 (not much of a challenge). With only Terry (Wogans) smooth tones to tide us over, we ignored Carol’s pleas’ to send us along the M36 and cut across country from the A46 to the wonders of Brislington.

We pulled up to the house of the mother of the flatmate of the friend of Ben, knocked on the door, introduced ourselves and said we’d brought the bed across. A few seconds of blank face (which caused a momentary knot of panic) was replaced by the greeting: “But you don’t have this address.”

“A lucky guess” we assured her, and proceeded to leave the bed in her kitchen (as you do). She offered tea, which was tempting but we had places to go and people to see. Miles achieved: 111.6. Two 3-point turns completed.

Back to the A46, over the M4, continue onwards until all that could be seen were fields, take a left at the tree and drive through the village on the hill. Turn in the drive of the farmer and pull up to Mum’s house (for only a few more days).

Pause for home made sandwiches (with shop-bought ingredients) and Thorntons (most of which wife no 1 bravely ate to save us from having too much chocolate) then we liberated a Welsh Dresser, a sofa, a bookshelf and a selection of crystal, books and presents.

Back through the village, turn right at the tree and return to the M4. Carol was put to sleep (as was wife no 1) and me and Ben were left with only Chris (Evans) for company as we returned to the fun-filled South Circular to get the sofa (and the wife) back home . Arrive in Lewisham, ignore the parking bays of our neighbours and block the car park. 257.6 Miles achieved; Five 3-point turns.

With the sofa, wife, Christmas presents and Thorntons safely dropped off, myself and Ben took our positions and returned to Uxbridge to find the present Mrs Ben hand-crafting a Christmas stocking for a date with a doctor.

The sofa bed felt more like a relaxed ‘U’ tonight – you know, like it can’t be bothered to hold it’s arms up straight and is letting them flop to one side.

Waking up to find the stocking was nearly finished, we released the trailer from the chains that had locked it in place while we slept and returned to the lock-up for part two.

We were joined by the flatmate (her friend had the mum that needed the bed) and realised – at this point – our second mistake (the first was taking time off from work to do all this). Y’all know that I still have minimal lifting capacity (that saga starts with this post). The others had various muscle and joint related issues. All the things you need when moving a TV, washing machine, freezer and half a catalogue sales shop down 3 flights of stairs. In the rain.

With the trailer (and the extra car) loaded down, I took out a small mortgage to pay for Phil’s diesel bill and we turned south to the M3. Carol sulked a little as we reached the M27 and decided that travelling through Southampton with a fully laded trailer in convoy wasn’t in our best interest, despite what she thought.

After a glut of roundabouts we arrived at the fringes of the New Forest to meet up with my best man and another sucker (um, friend) helping with the move. (Miles covered: 366.2. 8 three-point turns)

“You guys remember Chris?” He said first.

“Yes,” we replied. “We thought he was Ian.”

“And this is Dave.” he said, introducing the previous occupant of his new house, who was also there.

“Actually, I’m Doug.”

This is why, to a man, everyone else is ‘mate’, ‘bloke’, ‘geezer’ or some other random nickname. Otherwise, we’d have to remember the names. That’s also why names like Zachariah have fallen out of fashion.

Unload Phil, the trailer and the car (this is the easy bit – all mostly on one level) and return to the flat (again, even with the empty trailer we decided not to visit Soton central) to greet the best mans fiance and the flights of stairs.

Firstly, we all compare injuries and decide that my still healing leg trumps joint and muscle damage. This means I get to spend the next day outside. In the rain.

This is my happy face …

Actually, I tell a lie. I was drafted to be the banksman for this whole escapade so there was no comparing of injuries.

I’m still outside in the rain, don’t forget.

This is my happy face …

It actually all gets a bit hazy about what we actually loaded next – there were a lot of boxes, a small tumble dryer, the lower half of a double bed and those fluffy dice. Maybe a coffee table.

Bacon sandwiches also featured.

Two cars (both Vauxhall Astras, randomly,) one Phil and a trailer load later and we return to the new house to unload yet again. As a concession to my leg, I’m not allowed to carry stuff upstairs. Downstairs is fine (and guess where all the large stuff ended up?)

As darkness has fallen, we call it a day and return to the flat. Chris/Ian (did I see his warrant card?) escapes around this point to head home, while Doug/Dave retreats to the single mattress still in the new house (yeah, he was still staying there). I’ve lost track of the mileage but we are somewhere in the region of 400 something miles. 11 three-point turns. Funny how I don’t lose track of the three-point turns, particularly the ones in the dark.

The xbox 360 was cunningly not packed but we are all so damn knackered that we collapse in the sofas (also cunningly not packed) in front of some film. You’ve heard of it I’ve sure but I’m dratted if I can remember which one it was.

The pizzas were good though.

I do remember the other friend (she joined us at the lock-up that morning) fall asleep curled on the floor, not stir as we filled the air matress for her and flail quite convincingy as we tried to move her onto it. Apparently, says Ben, she can pack quite a whallop.

I take the larger sofa and Ben takes the kitchen floor. Well obviously – the hallway was full of more boxes.

Night, night.

… zzz … zzz … zzz

Thinking back on it, it was more like:

… still awake … still awake … z …awake again.

The next day dawned grey and overcast so I put Mrs Ben’s coat on again (it was warmer and more water-proof than mine – and yes she is still back at Uxbridge) and went out to keep Phil and the Astra’s company.

The load today was a mattress, two sofas, a TV, the Xbox (very gently) and the fluffy dice (again). Maybe a coffee table.

And even more boxes.

Once more unto the house, dear friends (morning Dave!). More miles achieved. 14 three-point turns. And never the same route twice betwixt flat and house.

With all the furniture moved, that ended our commitment so we bullied them into taking us to Morrisons for afternoon breakfast. Luckily, we managed to find two spaces in a row so we could park Phil without unhitching the trailer and an intravenous injection of cholesteral made us (nearly) human again.

We return to the motorway for the last time (turn right to the M3 not left!) and head up in the encroaching gloom (where did the time go? And just what happened to my scheduled Xbox time?), Chris once again keeping us company and Carol put to sleep.

Leave the M3 and cut up past her Madge (the Queen not Mrs Ritchie) at Windsor, flirt with the M4 at Slough and drive through Iver back to Uxbridge (rush hour successfully avoided) to find the last few days have pretty much hit 600 miles travelled.

Okay, 600.6 miles. And 15 three-point turns. By the end, I could communicate which direction Ben needed to turn in with just my left eyebrow. I also know that my head fits almost exactly in the space between the trailer and Phil (as long as you don’t mind breathing in exhaust fumes …).

Returning Mrs Ben’s coat in exchange for Indian takeaway (and for those interested, the doctor liked his stocking), we clocked up one final mile (or so) getting me to West Ruislip to take public transport back to my own abode (hello wife number one).

One night in my bed then finish applying danish oil to the pile of planking that should have been a floor to ceiling book shelf a week ago then relax for one day before starting the fit-up for the Christmas Show.

Same again monday and get home to find that the planking is now a floor to ceiling bookcase.

More of the same until Thursday sees the show open.

The next day sees me unpacking boxes of books from both sets of parents (mine and hers) and catching up on two weeks worth of email and pack for two to travel to Birmingham that night (it’s now approaching saturday) to travel up on the red-eye. Arrive in New Street around 1.30AM (delayed, as always, at Rugby) to arrive at Mum’s new flat 2.00AM.

The building still has scaffolding up, only one lift is working (still in it’s packing) and the heating isn’t on.

But there was a sofa bed.

And a huge sofa in the living room/dining room/kitchen. The way our minds work, it was only a couple of minutes to re-organise the furniture (sofa here, bookshelf there, TV stand to go there) and then gently fall on the sofa-bed to sleep.

Mum clatters in a little after 10am and we stare blankly at her.

The observant will notice that we stayed in mum’s new flat before she did.

Heh.

She is a little shocked to find the living room has been reconfigured in her absence, particularly as it means the sofa that was about to be returned now fits perfectly.

We get the important things in (TV, DVD/HDD recorder, WiFi) and find that her TV combo works better than ours

The heating now works though. Except for the towel rail.

And the shower leaks.

BT have failed to supply a logon and password to access the interweb despite two weeks notice so we go grab an Italian at a nearby restaurant with lots of celebs on the wall.

Photo’s – not their useless bodies.

The food was good though.

Catch the train back to Worcester to pick up Mums car to go back to her place in the country (near the tree) to find out that the guy who had been doing her packing that day has packed nearly everything.

Towels, food, toiletries, everything.

Sigh.

A little unpacking later and we retire to bed (those weren’t packed luckily).

Sunday dawns and there’s even a hint of sun. On the weather report. Go out for a pub lunch with more family then head to Kemble to catch the train back to London (it’s running late)

Arrive at Paddington and head to the underground to return home. Again.

And …relax.

No, wait.

Call mum the next day to see how her move went.

All is good.

And ..

relax-

NO wait!

Christmas! With Mum, my in-laws and the doberman.

Thank goodness for Wii …

Even I’m starting to think that a holiday might be a good idea. You know, away from home in hotels and doing touristy stuff.

Or at least, not having a DIY project in December.

Happy New Year all!