Monday, September 22, 2008

I do not know how to stuff 50 pounds of mud into a 10-pound bag.

The real estate market may be collapsing in other parts of the country, but Manhattan real estate will always sell at a premium. It's an island, after all, and there's nowhere to build but up.

New York is the only place I've ever been where people can tell you the precise square footage of their living space. I've lived in at least a dozen different places since college; I couldn't tell you the square footage of a single one. In New York, though, ten square feet can make the difference between a bedroom and a walk-in closet, so everyone knows.

Yesterday I sent my friend Richard, who's come down from Maine to be our Assistant Stage Manager, to The Container Store to buy bags to organize our props. We don't have Container Stores in Maine; Richard was a little overwhelmed by how crowded it was. But the key to New York life is that everything doubles as storage: tables have shelves and drawers, ottomans open to be storage cubes, beds have drawers or storage bags underneath them.

This week we've moved from the rehearsal space we had for the last three weeks into a much smaller room down the hall, and it's going to be a challenge. The new room has barely enough space to tape down the set, much less accommodate three musicians, dozens of props, twelve scene changes' worth of costumes, 11 actors and a production staff of five or six.

We'll figure it out, because we have to, but no simple solution occurs to me. It's good practice for our performance space, which is only a little bigger than this studio.

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