Work

warning: Creating default object from empty value in /home1/standing/public_html/modules/taxonomy/taxonomy.pages.inc on line 33.

Day jobs

There is something nice about day jobs. Other people, a sense of routine, and, in the case of my day job, an endless supply of earl grey tea.

Not to be shirked, my friends, not to be shirked. Shirketh ye not.

New York, LA, Brunswick

So Rita, one third of the weekly Standing There Productions meeting conglomerate (just three coffees thanks, and do you do freshly squeezed orange juice?) is going overseas.

One of her films, a short film called Hugo, has made it into the Palm Springs film festival and the Rhode Island film festival.

This means she is going to New York and LA. Anybody who has any interesting friends/multi-billion-dollar philanthropist buddies/recommendations re: best hot dog stand or most exciting interpretation of the words "fresh coffee", please do let me know because I am attempting to be the authority on all things American since I lived there for nine months in 1999 and therefore I am obviously almost a citizen of the place and am hip to the groove regarding Best And Most Exciting Things To Do. For example, I remember:

- A stationery shop in New York City. I can picture it now but cannot for the life of me remember where it is or why it was so exciting. I simply recall contemplating ways to hide oneself in there overnight.

- The galleries. O! The galleries! New York of course but also LA, where one is driven up an enormous hill in a small tram to the Paul Getty museum with its cactus garden overlooking the piano-shaped pools of the brat pack.

- The smell. (Not very helpful to Rita)

- Soho..

- Dean and Deluca. Omogod etc.

- 5th Avenue.

- Central Park.

- Pollution (sorry LA but honestly).

All of which leads me to believe perhaps I should do a "scoping visit" to LA and New York just in order to better equip Rita for her foray into the unknown.

Now, if I could just find a philanthropist in my size...

Producing Things

Rita, Stewart and I are the three central members of Standing There Productions. This means we meet regularly, drink tea, argue over the layout and tardiness of meeting minutes, and have ideas about what Standing There Productions wants to do next.

We have quite a bit of trouble explaining to other people exactly what it is we all do. I write things, that much is clear. But then, so does Rita (see The Receptionist for example, although there is more where that came from and in fact she has won script awards and has directed things and has a cameo or twelve in I Could Be Anybody). Also, I direct things like our comedy festival show this year, none of which I do without the help of Rita as casting co-director and Stew, whose withering gaze is cast over all things visual, and who also takes all our photos and does all our technical work.

To confuse things further, we met Stew when he performed in our play, People Watching in 2003. He has, as he delights in reminding me, never been on stage since. Even that isn't quite true because Stew stage-manages most of our projects. Rita handles the financial direction of the company, with Stewart and I asking her once a week to tell us what the budget means, and she generally has her ear to the ground and knows about funding opportunities which I completely fail to write proposals for.

What I think all this means is that we are all, according to a loose definition, producers. Or maybe Rita is our executive producer and we are all producers with various different roles. The problem with any of these definitions is that nobody knows what any of them mean.

For example. Please tell me what any of these mean (thanks to Wikipedia for your enlightening descriptions):

A film producer, or filmmaker, is a person who creates the conditions for making movies.

The primary role of a television producer is to coordinate and control all aspects of production.

A theatrical producer is the person ultimately responsible for overseeing all aspects of mounting a theatre production.  

 

According to these descriptions, a producer is a control freak who does everything. Ergo, I suspect we are all producers, in some way or another. Having said that, the definition "control freak who does everything" is perhaps too broad, because if this is the case, the following people are also producers:

1. My grandma

2. The woman at the Smith Street post office

3. The Australian Prime Minister

 

In fact, that's not a bad point. You'd be mad not to give my grandma funding. I might give her a call.

 

Casting

The audition process is now over.

Over a hundred people auditioned for only three roles.

Casting is so hard. It’s just so hard. I’m exhausted.

Also, I’d love to go to Federation Square tomorrow morning to see the government apologise to the indigenous people, but I’ve got writing to do. I’m writing about historically important days in history. Ironic, no?

What's sad

You know what’s sad?

It’s really sad that when I’m at home writing, I like it when the washing machine is buzzing away in the back room. It makes me feel less lonely.

The washing machine is my friend.

That’s right up there, I reckon.

That, and the fact that I think a variation in tea flavours is an exciting highlight of the day. I’m switching from Earl to Lady Grey next. It’s going to be awesome.

The small joys

Dear lady in the coffee shop near my house, You know not what you do.

When I arrive betracksuitpanted, hair assunder, ahead of a morning of solitary script writing and an afternoon of frenzied bursts of people auditionining… you know not what you do.

When you dive across your shop towards the coffee machine and reach for the extra large cup as soon as you see me enter the shop… you know not what you do.

When you slip an extra croissant in my brown paper bag “just in case”… you know not what you do.

It’s the small joys, it’s the simple ones, it’s that kickstart to a day I thought was going to be business only.

I think if I went in there wearing a suit and looking less like the frayed end of a tether, you might charge me full price and take your time.

You are nice lady and I hope the people close to you are as nice as you are to me.

Also, your croissants are very nice.

Day in the "life"

Five hours of meetings.

Left my mobile phone charger at my other day job.

One hour to go before next meeting starts.

No access to computer (bar this two minute break).

Going well.

If anybody needs me, send a pidgeon.