How to Be A Sterling Juror

Note: The Sterling Awards are Edmonton's Annual Theatre Awards (similar to the Tony Awards in New York -- only cooler)

Once again THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY AND IS NOT BASED ON REAL LIFE. Frankly, if I offend anyone in any way -- too bad, don't bother to e-mail me.

For those who have the stomach.....

Reality check. The real reasons you were chosen were:

• somebody with a twisted sense of humour submitted your name to the committee
• the committee was desperate
• the background check revealed that the charges were dropped

You are, no doubt, under the impression that you're in for an entertaining, enlightening year full of joyous evenings at the theatre. You would be wrong. While it is true that you will come away from many a production humming a tune under your breath and feeling glad to be alive; you are also in for some tortorous evenings where some time around Act 6 Day 4, you find yourself wishing for a gun to put yourself and the rest of audience out of your collective misery. (Sterling Juror Tip: don't nominate those productions). Do not let evenings like this deter you. With the right mindset and armed with the proper knowledge (like this guide), you will find that you too can make it through the theatre season with a minimum intake of controlled substances.

Miss Manners Etiquette Guide for Sterling Jurors

1. Do NOT fall asleep during performances.
   This behaviour is frowned upon when normal audience members do it, but it is the height of rudeness when Sterling Jurors do it. For some reason, theatre companies get really bitchy when it happens and they phone the Sterling Committee and complain about you. This is not a good thing. There are a number of strategies that you can employ to prevent this from happening:
   
   • Go on opening night. The audience is filled with friends of the cast and director and is a generally an upbeat crowd. No matter how BAD the production really is, there is usually enough energy to keep you awake.
   • Go pumped full of caffeine. You may be tired, listless and bored, but you WON'T fall asleep. This method may backfire if caffeine makes you pee and you find the play is three hours long with no intermission. You then have to face the choice of falling asleep and risking the wrath of the theatre community or wearing "Depends" undergarments at theatre events.

2. Don't be a pig at the reception.
   I know everybody else is oinking like there's no tomorrow -- but unless it's Dec 31/99, try to exercise a little bit of self-control. Remember, you are wearing your "Sterling Jury member" hat -- you were supposed to leave your "starving artist" hat at home. If you're still hungry after politely nibbling at the reception, go to one of the larger supermarket chains. They always have tons of free samples to give away (actually, you should already know this as a starving artist -- the best time to go is dinner time -- they know shoppers are hungry and are hoping to entice you into an impulse buy). Sterling Juror Tip -- The quality of the food at the reception does not necessarily reflect the quality of the play.
3. Do not scream when a bat dive bombs you under the tent in Hawrelak Park
   Yes, there are bats that live under that tent thingy in Hawrelak park (look up, look waaayyyy up, see the dark clumps? Those there be bats.) Your first impulse may be to scream and freak out when one of these creatures dive bombs you, but you are a professional and a professional does not upstage the action on-stage. Be stoic and let the creature have it's way (just be sure to tip your hairdresser big time when s/he digs the creature and its nest out of your hair afterward).

Generally Helpful Tips and Observations

1. A Good Juror is a Knowledgeable Juror
   Yeah, yeah. We all know the "do your homework" adage. But I'm not talking about knowing about the play, the actors, the producing company, the playwright -- that's a given. I'm talking the really IMPORTANT stuff.
   
   • How long is the play?
   • Is there an intermission?
   • Who is catering the reception?
   • Is there any free parking in a relatively safe area within walking distance of the theatre, or do I have spend my collection of millennium quarters to ensure the safety of my car and person?

   Knowing this information ahead of time can help you plan coping strategies.

2. Form a support group with fellow Jurors
   Since it's not really a good idea to go around blabbing what you REALLY thought of a play (good or bad), it is helpful to get to know the only people you can freely spout your opinion to. And, there are some productions that require group support to get through. Remember: Misery loves company. Besides, if these people have already seen the play, they can inform you ahead of time if you need to do some caffeine loading.
3. Take Notes
   I'm not talking extensive notes or anything. But if something really good stands out -- write it down. You will find that when you're looking through your stuff at the end of the year, playbills are generally VERY BADLY WRITTEN -- they forget to tell you who played what role, etc. Also you will find that although your daytimer says you attended a production and in your pile of Sterling stuff is the playbill, you will not be able to recall, even at gunpoint, anything about the production. This could be due to either faulty memory or alien abduction. In either case, if you write stuff down, you're covered. Besides, the committee went to a lot of trouble to put that binder together for you. Use it.
4. You will have no Life in October and February
   For some reason, every theatre company, collective and fly by night group schedules a show during these two months -- this includes whatever group you're affiliated with as well. So, while you're desperately trying to get your own show up and running, you're also running around trying to see everyone else's productions. You could be seeing two shows a day on your days off and STILL not be able to catch everything you're supposed to. Your director starts getting really ticked at you everytime you can't commit to an extra rehearsal because "I have to Sterling". These two months will suck. You will become very bitchy and you will exist on junk food. It is like extended PMS.
5. Your friends will not go to the theatre with you
   Sad, but true. Since ethically you can no longer dish, you have become a boring theatre companion.
6. You Will Develop the Attention Span of a Gnat
   As the season draws on, everything appears to take longer and longer. The pacing appears glacial, characters take FOREVER to get to the point. You find yourself impatiently snapping your fingers and screaming "get on with it!!". (Mentally that is, externally you're still wearing that attentive, slightly glazed, over-caffeinated expression that has become your "Sterling Look"). Nearing season's end, you would be just as happy to read the synopsis in the playbill, ask every actor to stand on stage and have them do their best scene/monologue/song, run through all the set changes and lighting cues lickety split and then go home. You'll have seen everything you need to see in 15 minutes.
7. A word about Collectives
   This is a sub-group of the theatre community that the average theatre go-er will have little knowledge of (unless they are related to one of the collective members) simply because they don't have the money to advertise widely. Theoretically, a collective is just like any other theatre group except it is not formally incorporated. Theoretically.

   The Barb will now proceed to tell you the truth about this group. NOTE: Remember, this is a humour piece, I'm sure YOUR collective is NOTHING like what I describe below. Keep your hate e-mail to yourself.

   A collective is a group of actors who have no work and have decided to "seize the day" and create their own opportunities. They could be college kids that just graduated or garden-variety out of work actors. They generally have not found work with other companies because they were too inexperienced or were just bad actors. Both these qualities show on stage. Collectives are also notoriously poor. Since they don't have the money to buy the rights to a "real" play (that has had all the bugs worked out), they create their own. They also don't have the money to hire a real dramaturge, so their own creations are in dire need of an edit (recommend two pots of coffee before going). The lack of money also causes these productions to be mounted in facilities in exceedingly seedy areas of town. You can be sure that at least one of the actors in the production is currently living a furniture-free existence as all his stuff is on stage pretending it's a set. This group tends to call the Sterling Committee at the very last minute so that the committee will then call you to inform you of yet ANOTHER show that you have to squeeze in right after you FINALLY had your schedule for the month figured out. Consider yourself warned.

8. The Use of Tap Shoes
   Actually this section should be titled the "mis-use" of tap shoes. This is a particularly sore point with The Barb. There are many actors out there under the mis-conception that a couple of years of tap classes, a couple of times a week, a tap-dancer makes. They would be wrong. A tap shoe is a delicate tool to be used only by professionals who understand the nuance and power of this poly-rhythmic art form. The Barb is of the strong opinion that legislation should be put in place requiring that tap shoe owners be licensed. In order to possess a pair of tap shoes, they must also demonstrate that they possess rhythm, coordination and ankle dexterity. Absence of any one of the three results in a wince-inducing performance. In reality, one can either tap dance or they can't. As the great Master Yoda says, "Do or not do, there is no try". Those who would own taps shoes without meeting all the requirements should be subjected to the proper sanctions. Caning (as in Singapore) would not be out of line.
9. The Ballot
   The Ballot is an un-pretentious looking document that arrives in your mailbox at the end of the season. Onto those few slips of paper you must commit a year's worth of watching and judging. Shit. Commiting everything to paper is damn hard work (plus they suggest that you write out a practice copy just to make sure you don't screw up -- NO PRESSUE OR ANYTHING!). Well, between the overwhelming sense of responsibility and your natural reaction to that responsibility (like procrastination -- my house was SPOTLESS by the time the ballot was finished), it will take between 5-15 hours to fill that thing in. This is also the time you discover that your notes were somewhat spotty and the Playbills no help at all when you try to recall why John Smith's name has been circled and underlined four times. (He was either the actor that was so mesmerizing in that subline production of "An Evening of Angst" or he was SO bad that he made Darrin Hagen in drag look subtle.) Whatever. The arrival of the ballot marks the end of an amazing, exhausting year. Now you just have to attend....
10. The Sterling Nominations Press Conference
    This is where you find out that the plays you went to were clearly not the same ones that the other Jury members attended because absolutely nothing in the nominations matches what your notion of what was good/bad. You have just one more duty.
11. Awards Night
    Eat up, baby. It's paid for and boy, did you earn it! The "no pigging out" rule does not apply here. One final Sterling Tip: wear clothes with a "buffet style" waistline (ie: elastic). You can cram more food in that way.

Conclusion

The Barb is sure that if you follow the sure-fire tips offered in this guide, you will get through the year with maximum enjoyment. Go forth and Sterling! May the Arts Be With You!