Dough Is Dear, So Very Dear

Since the first caveman wrote the first musical, Ogg! The New Musical, he (or she) has always needed to find a way to get it produced. Back then there were no Glorg Nederlanders nor Durb Schuberts.

So the caveman/composer (the first hyphenate, too) usually had to perform it himself at the company fire and for the other cavemen and hope his audience, who all had spears, liked his show.

Sigh. It was so much easier back then. Every show was a one-man show.

But eventually came the Roman Coliseum, charging for admission, and scheduling your show around the Lions vs. Christians games. You had to have money to pay for costumes and to pay off the centurions so they wouldn't slay your cast by mistake.

Which brings us to today. (Wow, that was a fast jump, wasn't it?)

Self-production is a dream (and nightmare) for a number of artists who have not hit it big yet. Sure there's the classic Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland scenarios, but frankly, there aren't many barns left in Silicon Valley ... at least not big enough for a stage and an audience. And don't even get me started about local building codes ...

One of the few benefits of staying in San Jose and not moving to New York or Los Angeles is that I can pretty much produce whatever I want (on a small scale) because I have an amazing circle of talented and generous friends, and I know so many people and places in the area.

I have, for the most part, been satisfied creatively. Monetarily ... eh, not so much.

While I've had a number of original plays and adapted musicals produced in the last 25 years, the first show I co-produced of my own work was an evening of my music and lyrics: Out of My Trunk, Out of My Mind. I scheduled it for October 7, 2001 in April of 2001 -- before September 11, 2001.

My performers wore their own clothes, there was no dancing, we had an absolutely beautiful set from A Little Night Music currently playing in the theater, the lights were already set for that set, the lighting designer would be running lights for my show, and some friends on the Night Music crew would handle things offstage.

There was already a piano there, and my amazing accompanist could make any piano sound like an orchestra while still accompanying the singers and not overpowering them.

And we'd be performing on an off-night from Night Music, so there was no theater rental.

The budget consisted of a few fliers and some ink. And payment to our pianist.

I charged an incredibly nominal fee to get in (five or ten bucks as I recall), and we had a packed and flop-proof house. It seemed the entire South Bay theater community was there. It was our first time together as a theater community since 9/11.

I didn't get rich, but it was truly an amazing experience. I really wish my folks could have been around to see it. (Dad was a musician for 40 years, and Mom was always super-supportive of my theater endeavors).

As my little independent evenings of music grew, the budgets crept up a little as well. Still nothing I (or rather, my partner Tim) couldn't front and then get back from the box office receipts.

Since then, I've done a few more evenings of music and an original revue, Dot You! skewering the rapid rise and fall of the dot-coms at the end of the century. That was even more expensive, but still virtually nothing compared to other shows in the area.

Now ... The Poptimists. (Whew! That was a long build up, wasn't it?)

This one, despite its modest setting at a high-school assembly, would cost a wee bit more.

I did manage to get a "free" theater through partnership with another group. And there would only be one costume for each of the ten cast members. But the set would be put together by rentals and a few more items that could cost actual money to get. The show requires more than just a piano, so musical arrangements have to be commissioned, and musicians paid to play the show.

Yadda, yadda, yadda.

So, not wanting to financially impose on my generous partner once again, I decided: what the heck? I'll create a show website and put the call out for contributions and/or investments.

The response?

[Insert cricket sounds]

I've never been a particularly good self-promoter or salesman (which is probably a big reason why I'm still in San Jose). I pitched for ten years to Paramount and only sold one script, only to have it unsold a few months later. My dad was a salesman at Sears for over 30 years. I don't know how he did it.

But finally two friends offered to donate what they could in this economy, and I was very touched by their offers. It always seems the ones who have the least are the first to offer to help (with one exception to be mentioned later. Oops! Too late! Already been mentioned now).

Then two other friends generously gave what they could. And, as I mentioned in my very first post (now located way down below this one) it wasn't enough to produce the show, but it was enough to get started.

I wasn't sure if I could pull this one off. I could cut corners and not do the production I envisioned, but I want The Poptimists to be the next step up for me.

Then, I was pulled silently aside one evening and assured by another incredibly generous friend, that he and/or she would front the expenses for the show. Won't say any more other than that the show was a go.

And is a go.

And so I'm going.

Now ... where do I find a multi-racial cast of clean cut performers who look 18-25?

As I frequently tell artists my own age: I have shoes that are 25 years old! Where am I going to find people that young?

Next: God, I hope I get them!