On Being a Mentor

I'm not sure what this term has come to mean, but in our theater group, it means to guide a novice director through the process of staging a show.

I was asked to mentor my friend Michael. His original choice, made a year or so ago, had become overwhelmed by her job as a fairly new teacher in one of Austin's tougher middle schools, and (I guess) forgot that she had committed to do this for Michael. I doubted my qualifications for the honour. Deciding that Michael probably didn't really need a mentor, except for the purpose of completing the process by the book, I accepted.

From the first day of Auditions, things went wrong. There were supposed to be three directors, each doing one short play. One of the directors, due to unexpected circumstances, dropped out that very day, leaving us with two directors and three plays. Can't drop the third play--it had been advertised and expected by our patrons. Royalties paid, etc., etc. Can't bring in a different director--of the two other prospective directors who had fulfilled the requirements to qualify, both were committed to directing at other venues in this time slot. Calling someone and saying, "I need you to make a two month commitment, starting today," is a bit unrealistic. So, the only solution was for the two directors to do all three plays.

That caused a major shuffle. Each director had chosen his or her own play, and the longest and edgiest of the three was chosen by the director who dropped out. So, Michael took on that play, and Christina did hers, as well as Michael's original choice.

Bringing us up to date; I now found myself mentoring a director on a project that I would have considered beyond my own capabilities. The play, "Sepulchre of Songs," is character-driven, and the action takes place within the minds of the main characters. I mean, really. How much action can there be when the heroine has no arms or legs? I would have thrown up my hands, if I had to direct it! Michael, however, proved more than equal to the task, and Christina did a fantastic job with both of hers, even with taking on twice the work that she had originally planned for.

Then, of course, there was the debacle of the actors. Not only did very few come out for auditions (Thank you SO much, all of you who did!), but two who were cast in all three shows LEFT partway through the rehearsal process. It seems that the wife got a job in Austin, as opposed to Round Rock where she was working at the time of auditions, and they just didn't feel like driving so far when they didn't have to be here for work. Right. Never mind that they made a commitment to do the show. Never mind that their absence left the production high and dry, and the directors scrambling for actors. Never mind the added stress on both directors, who were already putting up with more than the considerable amount that the process entails even when everything goes right.

Fortunately, there were actors available for draft. Sean, Jim and I stepped in and did our best to fill the vacant shoes.

Suffice it to say that the actors who dropped out are now in our mental database as uncastable. Don't even bother coming back, guys!

Don't get me started on the lack of tech support for these shows. Michael, on top of everything else, had to figure out how to program the light board, as everyone familiar with it was mysteriously unavailable. And where were our Youth Guild volunteers who usually stage manage, run tech, or schlep set pieces? "I suppose I have that database somewhere on my old hard drive," said the former Guild Director. "Most of them have probably graduated," she said, when asked for the information by the new Guild Director. So, essentially, when she moved on, she took the entire Guild with her. Thanks, Former YGD.

All in all, the new directors received a baptism of fire, and emerged bathed in glory. Pat yourselves on the back, Michael and Christina. Trust me, you did far more than fledgling directors usually do.

The shows even made money!