First of all, I'd like to say that this post has nothing to do with public nudity. It has everything to do with being in the public eye when something goes terribly wrong. And because this is my blog and I usually write as though I'm the only one reading it, I'm going to lay this out right here in black and white as I attempt to purge it from my psyche. . .
The big benefit concert was this weekend (and by benefit I mean most of what we did was donated) and we were looking forward to a really good show with a group of well-known, talented local musicians. I always stress a little bit before our bigger shows because, really, there's ALWAYS the chance that something could go wrong. So I do everything I can ahead of time to ensure that I have a handle on things by being organized and informed and that gives me a certain level of security. Maybe false security but, hey, whatever gets me through the day.
We've worked concerts in The Egyptian for the last 5 or 6 years and, except for a few minor mishaps here and there, it has been a really good experience. No show has ever failed and no piece of equipment has ever malfunctioned to the point where the audience was aware of it. In fact, in the 7 years we've been running sound, no show has ever come close to failing. Usually there is stress leading up to a show (for me anyway) and then we have a really good show and then we have a sense of satisfaction in a job well done. Kudos are passed around and there are many mental high-fives.
Well. . . not this time.
We set everything up on Saturday, the day before the concert, so we could ensure that everyone that was performing could have a good sound check. One of our favorite groups, Onomatopoeia, was the main group as well as the largest, so we asked them to come Saturday afternoon to set up and sound check. Our set up earlier in the day went exactly as planned as did the first couple of hours of the musician's set up and sound check. We were status quo. Everything was going according to plan. Right up until we plugged in and turned on a wireless mic. This may or may not have had anything to do with the following turn of events but it sticks in my mind as the starting point of a very slippery down hill slope that left us figuratively heaped haphazardly at the bottom.
When we plugged in the wireless mic, the digital board shut down. It came right back on but it definitely caused a moment of panic because we had just spent two hours sound checking a band with the high expectations that their monitors would work in such a way that they could hear every little nuance from every single instrument they played. Fortunately Rob hits the "store" button often enough that most of the settings were recalled when the board came back on. Unfortunately, the board continued to shut down every time Rob hit one particular button. Obviously this caused everyone a little bit of stress but we had time to figure out the problem since the concert wasn't until the next day. Rob and Kurt unplugged the board and Rob took it home to find a solution.
After much research and a hard re-set to the computer inside the board, we tested and tested and tested the mixer to see if the problem would repeat itself. It was back to factory settings and we felt satisfied that the problem had been solved. Rob hit every number of button combinations possible and the board operated exactly as it was supposed to. We had painstakingly written down all of the settings from the afternoon's sound check and they were all re-entered back into the memory of the mixer. There was no reason to think that anything else would go wrong. In hindsight, I can think of plenty of reasons but it's too late for that. . .
We were back at the theater by 10:45 a.m. on Sunday and were completely set up and ready to go before the first group was scheduled to sound check at 12:30. I had been in e-mail communication with all of the musicians the week before so we had all of their input lists and each group had a 15-30 minute block of time to sound check. We had labeled all of the cables with each musician's name; we knew exactly how many microphones and DI's were needed; each group came when they said they would and needed exactly what we had prepared for them; the digital mixer stored everything correctly and worked perfectly all day long. My plan was to be done with all of the sound checks by 4:00 and we were done at 3:45. It couldn't have gone any more smoothly. In fact, I remember saying, "It feels like the calm before the storm". I couldn't have known just how true that statement would turn out to be.
The concert was divided into two sets with a brief intermission in between. Time was of the essence and each performer had a limited amount of time to get on stage, do their thing and get off stage. Kurt was on Clear Com at the side of the stage and I had Clear Com at the mixer with Rob so we managed to get all seven acts from the first set on and off the stage very smoothly and mostly within the scheduled time frame. The mixer "acted up" a couple of times during the first set but we hoped for the best and Rob just tried to limit how much he touched it. As long as he didn't touch certain buttons, it was fine. As far as we could tell, the 400 + people in the audience weren't aware of the problem.
I breathed a little sigh of relief that we made it through the first set since I assumed the second set would be easier. (I can't count how many times I was dead WRONG during this event!!) The first group of the second set was a father/son combo on vocals and guitars. They are both well-known around the valley and the son just returned from a 3-week national tour. Since they were playing their acoustic guitars through direct boxes, when the mixer decided to re-boot itself, their voices and guitars disappeared. It was now impossible to hide our plight from the audience. The duo managed to muddle through but you could tell it was painful. The audience was getting pretty restless about the whole thing so I decided it would be up to me to try to set everyone at ease. I went on stage and did a little schpeil about technology and the digital age and choosing to go on with the show and collectively ignore the problem rather than delay it by switching to another mixer, yada, yada, yada. The audience was very receptive to that, thankfully, and we went on with the show.
We all then suffered through almost 2 more hours of the mixing console shutting itself off at random. Rob and Kurt racked their brains and did as much trouble shooting as they could but when a show loses a mixer, there just aren't a lot of options. We realized that the more sends going to the board, the more likely it was to shut off so we narrowed down the channels to a few critical ones and let the powered instrument amps on stage amplify the guitars and keyboard. Rob had to shut off all the drums, all the percussion, the horns and all but 2 vocal mics and the violin mic. Instrument amps are great for this very reason because the sound can easily be heard even though it can't be "mixed". Drums are usually plenty loud without mics and saxophones and flutes carry well enough on their own that they could still be heard. All in all, when we pulled it down to the bare minimum, the sound was just fine to the average ear. Rob suffered a great deal at being totally helpless to mix on the board since he really couldn't touch it without the board shutting down and that was pretty difficult to watch. Kurt had the difficult job of explaining to the musicians as they went on stage why they had to use a certain mic and why Rob couldn't adjust their monitors. Me, well, I was just plain miserable!! There just wasn't any more we could do at that point so we just stood back and let the rest of the concert unfold. The musicians were incredibly gracious about the whole thing and they all performed as if nothing was wrong. It was a little bit like the band that continued to play as the Titanic was sinking. . .
The concert actually ended on a good note, I think. The last two numbers were supposed to be an encore performance of everyone who had played during the evening sharing the stage with a Beatles song and an Elvis song. I figured they would skip this part since we only had two vocal mics and 2 instrument amps but musicians filed on stage anyway. The singers had fun handing off the mic to the next soloist and, when they weren't singing, they danced and seemed to have a great time. The extra guitar players grabbed a tambourine or some other instrument and joined in the fun. I would say about half of the 35 or so performers were on stage for the last two songs. There were cheers and standing ovations all around as the show drew to a close.
It was tough facing the musicians after the show but they were all kind and reassuring and I received more than a few hugs. Hugs always make me cry in these types of situations so it was all I could do to hold it together. We've worked with most of the musicians before and they assured us that this was a fluke and that we shouldn't blame ourselves. Easier said than done.
While trying to find the bright side in all of this, I comfort myself with the fact that no one died, no one went to jail and nothing caught fire. Rob consoles himself with the knowledge that this will probably be the worst concert of the year and we were lucky to get it over with in January. . .
And I'm sure that life will go on and the sick feeling in my stomach will eventually go away . . . Right???
No comments:
Post a Comment