(c) Sampsa Granström
Last fall I was still a bright-eyed freshman with curiosity twinkling in my eyes (as opposed to the jaded second year student with a blank stare I am now) when my tutors led me to a meeting for prospective speksi people. I had no idea what to expect, because I knew almost nothing about it except that it was some sort of theatre, but I was excited by what it might be and there was a rumour about free food and possibly even wine and I had adapted quickly to the student life, so I went.
That meeting lead to me trying out for acting. It was an obvious choice as I had been the leading man in almost every school Christmas and spring play from first to fifth grade. The audition weekend was an amazingly fun, experience except for the part where I had to sing and I chose “I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You” by Tom Waits, because it’s a simple tune and I can carry a note about as far as I can throw an elephant, but even that was a nice departure from my comfort zone and added to the experience. It came as no real surprise when I didn’t get cast, but I liked what I’d seen enough to want to still be a part of speksi and so I went into marketing and ticket sales.
I wasn’t totally sold on my part in the speksi at first, but recognized that these were important jobs for the whole productions and I enjoyed the fact I was meeting new people all the time and outside of the comfortable little bubble created by my student organization too. The marketing team was generally about throwing around ideas and writing some facebook adds and things, while the ticket sales got into the very serious business of sitting down and selling tickets to people and trying to organize shifts for people to sell tickets in. Apparently I did something right at some point, not sure when though, because what happened next… Well happened.
It was the night of the last performance of last years speksi Pei(l)i in February and I was out partying with the production in Swengi when Katsu, one of last years producers, pulled me aside and popped the question, “Have you thought about being a producer?” “No I haven’t, but okay what the hell”, I answered and went on with the whiskey, karaoke, and speksilove fueled night not knowing what I had agreed to.
Flash forward a few months and I’m beginning to realize the amount of work that goes into getting these productions together. There’s a ton of groundwork to do before the production has really even started. The producers and the director are the first things that get picked by the mysterious board of Humanistispeksi Ry already in April. In May the script is chosen in a cagematch between prospective writers by the board and the director and is then taken into preproduction “polishing” where the writer may occasionally shed a tear, but it all works out in the end.
But the first thing we the producers needed to do was find and book a venue. This might sound easy, but then you tend to not think about the million little things that are going in this city of ours and the dates you need might be blocked by anything from aardvark exhibitions to zombie cons so it’s extremely important to start right away in May to get the venue for February next year. Somehow I managed take up this task and spent a not an inconsiderable amount of time writing emails and waiting for answers to them and then eventually calling these places back and hearing that they we’re booked already. After a whole lot date shuffling and calling back and forth we found a place that satisfied our needs, well mostly, but it’s like Mick Jagger sang,“You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you’ll find, you’ll get what you need”.
Next up we needed to start looking for all the wonderful creative people to make this thing come alive so we started recruiting team leaders at the end of May, scouring the world for talents of all kinds from costume designers to dancers to lighting designers. So we go through applications with some margaritas and burgers and carefully choose, and occasionally blackmail or otherwise coerce, the right people for the jobs. After a rigorous search and a not an inconsiderable amount emailing, texting, Facebook stalking and shouting on street corners we are still short of a sound designer and if you happen to know anyone email or message me at my @helsinki address or Facebook or Twitter or if you really want to scare me text me directly. This is a serious request and I know it’s a shameless plug, but that’s what producing is: absolutely shameless plugging.
Then we get to the fun part of organizing meetings with 25 people so that everyone could attend. This is not totally unlike herding cats that are chasing red dots, but we’ve managed pretty well so far through cunning use of cherry pie and lots of smiley faces. At this point these meetings are mainly for getting to know each other and to talk a bit about the production schedule and how the different teams will choose their members, the audition weekend and less important stuff like ideas brought about by the script and is there more pie.
The script is eyes-only material until the premiere and I have to admit I would love to tell you what this year’s speksi is about, but the last person who leaked information about the script was found wrapped inside a carpet with a dozen rats… I am possibly kidding (I am not), but I really can’t divulge any information about the script except that there will be music and it will be amazingly awesome and you will enjoy it when it comes out in February (final date still to be announced, because of certain spatial uncertainties).
Now that I’ve written it down it seems like a lot and it won’t get any easier when the fall comes and things really start to kick in to gear, but that’s okay. There’s new people to meet, new friends to hug, and new grey hairs to be found. But ultimately what makes it special for me is being a part of creating something out of nothing but some words on a page. Seeing the ideas spark within people as they become a part of this and then see how those sparks fly out, mix with others and create a conflagration of creativity that consumes everyone involved and then looking at it, smiling, realising that you were there to make it all possible. That’s what makes it all worthwhile. The winter may be coming, but the speksi will keep us warm.
