Life in the Pit

Everyone has safety issues in the pit, and everyone can give examples of hazardous conditions. In ballet and opera, there is always the chance that the nutcracker’s head will fly into the pit, or a stray sword will fly in. In Pittsburgh, a viola took a direct hit from a flying bouquet meant for the prima ballerina standing onstage (the ballet company paid for repairs). I’m sure most of us have heard about the car in “Grease” rolling offstage into the pit in Holland. When I play musicals, I’m usually under the edge of the stage when the stage fog rolls off, exposing my already finicky instrument to extreme temperature changes. Fortunately, the stage hands recognize that, and we don’t see quite as much dense fog in use as we did years ago.

At Pittsburgh Opera, we have a pit scrim that extends from the edge of the stage about 1/3 of the way over the pit. I personally hate the scrim. It is supposed to “protect” the orchestra from debris from the stage, but I think its real purpose is to dampen the light coming from the pit so that it doesn’t interfere with stage lighting. In my opinion, it separates the orchestra from the stage and from the audience even more than usual. On the few occasions when the scrim was not there for a performance (it was damaged when an unauthorized person walked across the stage and onto the scrim between performances – it ripped and the intruder fell into the pit – so much for safety), I felt that the communication between the stage and the orchestra was noticeably better.

We have a wonderful, large pit at the Benedum Center in Pittsburgh. But as for spacing, I can honestly say that if there is an emergency and the hall has to be cleared quickly, I will be the last one out of the pit. I sit about as far from the exit as anyone, and when the orchestration is large, I have to wend my way through chairs, stands, and equipment to get to my seat. My only consolation is that the conductor is right next to me, and we’ll both be toast!