Behind The Scenes At The Vivian Beaumont

By Nancy K. Crevier

It is the glitz and glitter of the theater that comes to mind when one hears of a life in show biz. Bright lights and late nights, chic people and parties that last until dawn are the general impression when theater life is mentioned.

Newtown resident Walt Murphy knows about all of that. But as production carpenter at the prestigious Vivian Beaumont Theater at Lincoln Center in New York City, he is more aware than most of what it is that makes the lights shine on Broadway. “It is so much more complicated than just bringing a set in,” he said.

 He has pulled himself up the ladder, literally and figuratively, from shop carpenter at Atlas Scenic Studio in Bridgeport in the early 80s to his present position. In between, Mr Murphy ran the steel shop for Hudson Scenic Studio in Yonkers, whose shop supplied all of the metal work and welding for Broadway shows like Les Miserables, Miss Saigon and Phantom of the Opera, worked as assistant production carpenter controlling the computer automation for Phantom of the Opera from 1991-93, and served as technical director for the first two seasons that The Christmas Carol was produced at Madison Square Garden.

His first opportunity to move up to production carpenter came when he worked with Aurora Productions on Tommy. Eleven years ago he was hired by Lincoln Center Theater as production carpenter for the Vivian Beaumont Theater, overseeing the backstage operations for three or four shows a year. It is a position that despite long, crazy hours of being on hand year around for eight shows a week or more, brings him a great deal of satisfaction.

For Walt Murphy, “The difference between the Vivian Beaumont job and other jobs is that at Lincoln Center I’m the production carpenter and the technical supervisor, I hire the crew I work with and I am always in the same theater. It makes a big difference.” When he works off site in other Broadway theaters, he serves as technical supervisor, but must work with whatever crew is hired by a particular theater.

Whether or not he does the hiring, he is assured that the crew will perform professionally.

“Everybody in the industry is unionized,” he said. “The International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees takes care of all of the crafts in television and theater. The union is a professional credential in this business and belonging to a union is something I’m proud of.”

Another terrific aspect of working at the Vivian Beaumont Theater, said Mr Murphy, is the opportunity to work on shows that are a little offbeat or resurrected classics. “The shows at the Vivian Beaumont are not always for commercial viability,” he explained, as the Lincoln Center is a not-for-profit theater group.

 The Vivian Beaumont Theater opened in October 1965. The 1,100 seat theater has been operated by The Lincoln Center Theater since 1985 and has been home to huge productions such as Carousel, My Favorite Year, Six Degrees of Separation, Anything Goes and The King’s Horseman. An $8 million renovation in 1996 increased access for the disabled, improved acoustics, and upgraded the infrastructure. The renovations improved conditions for audiences, actors and the many people behind the scenes it takes to produce a show.

Among the myriad people required to move a show from paper to opening night, the production carpenter is essential to creating the scene that turns a tale to magic on stage. His position involves much more than a hammer and nails to put the nuts and bolts of a show in order, though, despite what his title implies.

Once the director and artistic director have approved a set, Mr Murphy meets with the set designer to discuss how best to achieve the design.

“I advise them on things like whether automatic or motorization is best for certain situations. I look at drawings and determine if they suit the theater and advise on use of material and so on,” he explained.

From there, the show moves to a bidding session where he provides technical parameters to scenic contractors, which along with a set model, give a sense of what needs to be created. It is the production carpenter who must meet with the scenic shop selected to nail down the details, set a time schedule and arrange trial setups when needed for sets that can cost anywhere from $350,000 to over $1 million.

“I might go back and forth to the shop 12 to 14 times during the preliminary phases,” said Mr Murphy. With shops all over New York, Connecticut and even Canada, that can mean a fair amount of travel at some times. All the while, he is continuing to oversee any ongoing shows.

Sets are always built off site, explained Mr Murphy, and once a set is built the challenge of “loading it in” begins.

“We always end up doing something physical to the theater for every show. We might have to cut holes in the floor for trap doors, anything,” Mr Murphy said. One of the considerations he needs to make with every show is that all of the pieces created in the shop for the set, from walls to floors, must fit into trucks no larger than 48 feet long for shipping. Not only that, he must be aware of the door size through which the set pieces will enter the theater and be sure they are not too large to do so.

The production of Frogs, staged at the Vivian Beaumont in 2004, was one of the more complicated sets Mr Murphy oversaw, but the most memorable, he said, is the gigantic pool constructed on stage for the 1998 production of Twelfth Night.

“We had to build a 60 by 40-foot pool on stage, around eight inches deep, and move scenery in the water. The pool liner was 2,400 square feet and we had to resurface the stage floor so that it didn’t pierce the liner.” Filters and a heating system were installed in the onstage pond with emergency drains capable of draining the whole rig in just minutes.

The show also required a scene of pouring rain, created by a tank on the catwalk filled with thousands of gallons of water. Gutters installed around the pool funneled the “rain” into the theater’s drainage system and thousands of feet of grounding wire running through the water kept star Helen Hunt and the other actors, safe.

The set, designed by Bob Crowley, won the Eddy Award from Entertainment Design and Technology Magazine and Twelfth Night went on to be screened on television on Live From Lincoln Center.

By the time preview dates are looming, Mr Murphy and his crew of 15 to 20 people are looking at 10- to 12-hour days, seven days a week. “You forge friendships in this crucible of pressure unlike the regular world,” said Mr Murphy. “That’s what I like.”

What he does not like is the time he must spend away from his family. Balancing family life and the lifestyle his job requires is something he works at constantly. Luckily, his wife, Peggy O’Neil-Murphy, teenage son Walt, Jr and daughter Nora understand that with two to three shows to oversee at a time, long days and long weeks are a fact of life.

Occasionally, Walt, Jr or Nora go into the city to hang out with him while he works, and his wife attends opening nights with him. Still, working in theater in New York City has meant missing many of his children’s concerts and banquets and games.

“It’s not really a job,” he said, “it’s a way of life. You go into it hook, line and sinker.”

Depending on the show, the crew is whittled down to just five or six members for the run of the show, including the production carpenter. “I try to limit what I do backstage [during a show] in case chaos needs to be managed. If something goes wrong, you have to fix it,” said Mr Murphy. “One thing you never want to do is stop the show because something isn’t working.”

The buzz of excitement that permeates opening night is for others, not the production carpenter.

“I’m scared to death [every opening night.] I never relax and I’m glad when it’s over,” he said. Day in and day out operations include execution of the scene changes and cues, as well as ongoing upkeep on the set, said Mr Murphy.

What can go wrong can run the gamut. Right now, he is overseeing the set for the award winning Light In The Piazza. Monitoring the computer automation and waiting for cues keeps the crew on alert throughout the show. Everything can be humming along smoothly one minute and come to a crashing halt the next. He and his crew must be ready to avert any problems, mechanical or otherwise.

“The elevator failed during one show of [The Light In The Piazza]. We were able to isolate the elevator on the computer system and come up with contingencies for doing the scene without the elevator while we were attempting to fix it.”

Frogs featured a huge stairway dragged up and down the stage via a winch. When the cable jammed in the middle of a show, Mr Murphy was left with no recourse except to grab his crew, pry the staircase loose from the stage, detach it and drag the several hundred pound piece off stage. “You use you own judgment and do what must be done to keep the show going.”

It is not only the thrill of seeing ideas become reality or the rush of stage sets that perform and disasters averted keep the job interesting for Mr Murphy. It is the personalities with whom he crosses paths that turn hard work into pure pleasure.

 “There is such an interesting cross-section of people,” Mr Murphy said. “I have worked with really talented and brilliant people, actors, directors and designers.” His job brings him elbow to elbow with big names in the business. Nathan Lane was the star of Frogs; Peter Townshend served as musical consultant for Tommy, Mr Murphy’s first venture as production carpenter. “When you see a really great stage actor, like Richard Easton, you know it. That’s something, and the audience sees it, too.”

What strikes him as kind of fun is to be “sitting around having coffee and some famous person is there having coffee with the truck drivers.” At the end of the day, actors are just regular folks, he said.

It is important for the production carpenter to maintain a rapport with the actors and instill confidence in them; after all, tons of equipment dangle above their heads and many elements hinge on his foresight and attention. However, many of the charismatic people Mr Murphy comes across in his line of work are behind the scenes, not the actors, he said.

Bernard Gersten, executive producer for the Lincoln Center Theater and Andre Bishop, Lincoln Center’s artistic director are two of the larger than life personalities behind the scenes, yet he sees through their actions that they care about every single person in the theater, he said. “They are wonderful to work for,” he said.

The late Gerald Gutierrez, director of Delicate Balance and Ivanov and Susan Strohman, who directed Frogs and The Producers are people he categorizes as “truly nice, really awesome and brilliant.” He works side by side with numerous artistic directors, producers and stage managers who continually amaze him with their talent and insight.

Without the unsung heroes — the union workers who make up the crews, set builders, truck drivers, house managers —who are responsible for the crucial details that go into the creation of every show, he said, the level of professional theater audiences have come to expect could not be achieved.

“It’s such an unconventional way to earn a living,” he laughed. “I can be at a meeting in some high rise on Fifth Avenue at 8 o’clock in the morning and driving a fork lift around a stage in the afternoon.”

Glitz and glitter? It is there, but only after people like Walt Murphy have built the illusions.