Prima donna gets fired
If you haven't been following this soap opera, don't bother reading this. Our opera star got canned tonight on the next to last performance. It should have happened sooner, but our director and stage manager were too patient and too kind.
Ms. Opera Star has made a point of separating herself from the rest of us amateurs. The rest of the cast has to show up at 6:30 for an 8:00 curtain. Ms. Opera Star, however, never once made the 6:30 call. Yes, she didn't have to go on until midway through the first act, but neither did a lot of us commoners.
She never warmed up with the rest of the cast. She had her own warmup routine that was, of course, more professional than what the rest of us did. She never made up or got in costume with the rest of us. Oh, no. She was too good for that.
Ms. Opera Star did her makeup and costume before she got to the theatre. She and the other Yum-Yum alternated roles in the starring part and the more minor part of Peep-Bo. She didn't like being relegated to the minor role, although they were supposed to share the two roles equally.
Last week, we did a private performance for the annual meeting of the Theatre Guild. She didn't show up, so the three little maids became two little maids. We had a pick up rehearsal on Wednesday because our regular orchestra director had to attend a school function and our vocal coach was conducting in his stead. Guess who didn't show up.
On Friday night, Ms. Opera Star didn't appear until five minutes before curtain. Because, of course, she was playing the minor role. Last night, she was not in evidence by the 8:00 curtain. The director and stage manager finally found their cojones and fired her sorry ass.
One of the chorus members, our dance coach, knew the role well and filled in without batting an eye. She performed like the champ she is even on short notice.
It goes without saying that Ms. Opera Star threw a magnificent hissy fit that most of us were not privileged to witness, since we were onstage performing. The director, bless her non-confrontational heart, is probably as relieved as the rest of us are to have the one disruptive influence gone from an otherwise cohesive cast.
Of course, we only have one performance left this afternoon. It should be a good one because Ms. Opera Star is gone and the sense of relief among the cast is palpable. It is interesting to note that after 52 years on the stage, I find that those who use the word professional are generally the ones who behave like two-year-olds while using that term.
One would hope that one so talented would get a clue. I have my doubts. She is now on record as being a particularly diffucult personality on the local level. She will never again perform at the Bellingham Theatre Guild and that means she will not perform anywhere in Bellingham because of the bad rep she has gained. What will she do when she has to give references to her next venue? Karma.
Despite that sour note, we have had a helluva good time and set a record for Bellingham Theatre Guild Performances. We sold 101 percent of capacity thanks to a few people who bought more seats than they could fill and donated their tickets back to us for resale.
It is always with mixed feelings that I come to the end of a show. The good news is that I will have a life again until the next show comes up. The bad news is that I will sorely miss the new and old friends with whom I have become intimately acquainted over the past few months.
That's the way of things in the theatre. You leave one family and become part of another as soon as the next show begins. It is my own peculiar tradition to write notes to everyone in the cast on the last performance, thanking them for sharing the stage with me.
In most cases, I express the hope that we will once again work together to create the magic that is live theatre. In the other cases, rare as they are, I try to find something positive to say about performers who obviously don't have what it takes.
Graciousness costs nothing and often pays off in the future.
2:52:04 AM 
|
