Most playing jobs for musicians seem different than regular day jobs non musicians enjoy. Regular jobs require some sort of ridged schedule at the same location. The dress code usually is standardized and the pay checks come at a predetermined time and usually in the same amount. Commercial musicians on the other hand work under different conditions. Commercial musicians might be playing in different locations, receiving differing amounts of payment and dress as the leader suggests. Material covered on a playing job will vary according to the interests of the audience and the hours will be determined by either the mother of the bride or the liquor laws at the club. Musicians playing for musicals tend to be a different lot for their work schedule and surroundings tend to be more like an office worker and to illustrate this, I will review my current life style as a musician performing in the pit for a musical.
We are currently performing a new musical in Branson titled “Wartime Romance” which came to Branson last week.
The conditions for a musician in this setting is remarkably contrasting to the usual shows performed here. Most shows have a featured entertainer who has charts specially written for him/her and supporting entertainers with their own charts. Most shows require constant playing unless the supporting entertainer happened to be a comedian or magician. The compensation for your work is usually given at the end of the week. If you are playing in a combo or big band for a party or dances, the three to four hours are filled with standard after standard tunes, only interrupted by a break every hour or two. Payment is usually given at the end of the evening and preferably in cash. Contrary to many peoples thinking, the “cash only joke” stems from the frequency of bad checks not just a way to cheat on your income tax. Performing a concert will require many hours of rehearsals ending in a final concert and payment is determined by the performance or series of performances by the ensemble. Playing a musical on the other hand is different in many ways.
Musicians performing a musical go to the same location, wear the same uniform and play, in most cases, the same music in the same manner for each performance. Very little opportunity is given to improvisation as in the case of the jazz combo. Dress code is usually black on black on black. Payment is many times once a week and your working area is very confined. This is also similar to working at a desk and everything you require to do your work is within easy reach.
For those not familiar with a musician’s typical day at the office, let me give you my routine at this time.
I get to the theater about one-half hour before curtain in order to set out mutes, place my thermos of coffee, and make sure my music is in order. This is also the time the musical director will inform every one of any changes in the show. Waiting to begin is when the musician’s trade stories of bad jobs of the past and get up to date on fellow musicians. Shortly before curtain, you wait in silence for the cue for the opening overture. After the downbeat, each musician functions as an independent desk worker completing his/her work until a break in the action on stage. Sometimes these breaks will last only seconds and they sometime can last for several minutes at which time you have a coffee break or sit silently thinking of what you need to do at home after work. Each entrance and the following series of notes should be the same as it was in rehearsal. Just sit there and do your work as best you can. In long running shows, the repetition of the job can get to you and at that point fellow musicians feel obligated to pull pranks on unsuspecting members of the ensemble, dutifully keeping the humor from the conductor and most especially from the paying audience.
During the lunch break (intermission), everyone hangs out at the water cooler (green room) and then it’s back to work again and thus flows the day at the office for a pit musician.
Ah, this brings back memories of working in the pit. One musical, to alleviate the boredom, three of us (me, the contractor and the conductor) got fart machines. Yea, kind of immature, but we sure had a lot of fun with them, especially when we’d get some of the actors laughing right before an entrance. Thankfully, they never blew a line.
My favorite memory was the time I left my mutes in the car. Soon after the overture, the was a little two measure intro that called for straight mute. I used a practice mute that had been in the pit the entire run (had no idea where it came from). The problem was after that scene, I had to play two measures of Deck the Halls with harmon with waa-waa. So, after the first intro, I made a mad dash to the parking lot to get my bag of mutes. I sprinted the entire trip, and had the presence of mind to get my straight mute out, as at the end of the scene, the intro was repeated again. I got back to the pit, and climbed past the trombone player. At this point, the conductor gave the downbeat. I had one measure rest, then had to play. I simultaneously picked up my horn, sat down and put in my mute during those four beats, and played my two notes. It’s a good thing we had a little time before the next entrance, as the entire pit was laughing hysterically. The bone player, who had been there for decades, said this was one for the books.
I miss those days. It could get boring, but the opportunity to play and the extra income was definitely a blessing.