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For Nexus Prompt 3. Small rituals, whether by compulsion or for luck.
Dressing rooms were always crazy and with three bands plus a few additional musicians and friends the chaos was a fever pitch. Dressing, make up, tuning instruments and talking to stage crew sent hours by quickly in a flurry of activity. No one was immune to it as everyone needed to give input on the stage, whether it was whose mic was whose or where exactly a drum pedal needed to be to feel natural. Musicians came and went from the dressing room to the stage for a check and then back to finish up.
After the madness of activity a sudden calm would settle about a half hour before stage time for the first band. The talking stopped, the visits from crew stopped, and each one went into their own minds to prepare for the stage. It was a preparation of the whole self, the voice, body, emotions, mind. Meditation barely got to all the nooks of a person that needed to be on to perform but each musician had a ritual and they all knew them and ignored the rituals of their companions.
This was the private time and not to be bothered. Some, like Ziggy sat quietly while staring into the mirror at himself, centering his emotions against the onslaught the stage would bring after the crowd was wound up by two previous bands. The Anthean needed a moment of isolation like he was wrapping himself in a coccoon. Others were noisy. Aarne paced and drummed on every surface available, songs but often simply random beats that ran through his head. Some nights he broke drumsticks on the wall or found himself drumming wildly on the back of Joe's chair while he watched his partner do his make up.
Vars was formal and set out in a full Norse offering to Fenrir for energy and the chaos that drove him on stage. Sometimes, Rik sat with him, quietly playing on his guitar or actively taking part which left offerings to two very divergent dieties. Usually Vars was alone and his rituals to the stage started earlier than any other. Going into the shower or beginning to dress started a cascade of practiced motions. Every piece of religious jewelry kissed and praised before it was put back into place on his body after a shower. When the venue had no shower, Vars would start back at the hotel and ride alone to the venue. He was formal and staunch in the way things must go, demanding that they proceed as always.
Rik had a looser interpretation of these rituals before the stage. Most musicians left their instruments on the stage but Rik always sat with the guitar he intended to play while the others went into their quiet space. There wasn't a specific thing in mind but it was a communion with the instrument. A moment to feel it there until it was again part of his body, an extension of his mind and emotions. He would sometimes hide away on some back stairwell or room away from everyone else; in the solitude and sometimes the dark.
Robert's brother Rekker was now with them and he was precise and manic over things. He wasn't usually on stage but worked on preparations on the stage, mostly tuning and sound check. He grated on things until he sometimes drifted near losing his temper. A solid tuning with a device was never enough. He relied on his instincts to tweak even the digital tuning to a more authentic and perfect note. Used to the stage himself, he zoned out with the others, checking and rechecking equipment. Often enough it left him still standing on the stage, staring at the equipment when the crowds came in. The lone man with flame red hair eyeing every piece of the stage. He knew the quirks of the other musicians and their equipment but it was no less a ritual than those in the dressing room.
Robert and Damien had a rhythm of walking the building while the others dressed, first on their own and then together. They watched for any weaknesses, noted escape routes and discussed placement of security. It was a walking meditation like old buddhist monks. Slow, observant and with few words. The two had settled in together. Damien the eyes and Robert the one who parsed the data like this was a combat zone. Both men were used to that exact scenario and pre-show was a traditional meditation on battle plans they hoped they would never have to implement. They too knew the quirks of the musicians, where they hid out for isolation before a show and in the cool down after a performance. Their time in quiet lasted longer than the others and demanded a hyper focus rather than zoning out. No less a compulsion after so many shows together.
The other band members had their own ways too. Preshow gear up was as individual as personalities, private and neceassary. The whole ordeal ventured close to superstitious for everyone in the production but this was how every show felt like the peak of performance for the bands. A matter of luck and tradition that had built up over months and even years.
Dressing rooms were always crazy and with three bands plus a few additional musicians and friends the chaos was a fever pitch. Dressing, make up, tuning instruments and talking to stage crew sent hours by quickly in a flurry of activity. No one was immune to it as everyone needed to give input on the stage, whether it was whose mic was whose or where exactly a drum pedal needed to be to feel natural. Musicians came and went from the dressing room to the stage for a check and then back to finish up.
After the madness of activity a sudden calm would settle about a half hour before stage time for the first band. The talking stopped, the visits from crew stopped, and each one went into their own minds to prepare for the stage. It was a preparation of the whole self, the voice, body, emotions, mind. Meditation barely got to all the nooks of a person that needed to be on to perform but each musician had a ritual and they all knew them and ignored the rituals of their companions.
This was the private time and not to be bothered. Some, like Ziggy sat quietly while staring into the mirror at himself, centering his emotions against the onslaught the stage would bring after the crowd was wound up by two previous bands. The Anthean needed a moment of isolation like he was wrapping himself in a coccoon. Others were noisy. Aarne paced and drummed on every surface available, songs but often simply random beats that ran through his head. Some nights he broke drumsticks on the wall or found himself drumming wildly on the back of Joe's chair while he watched his partner do his make up.
Vars was formal and set out in a full Norse offering to Fenrir for energy and the chaos that drove him on stage. Sometimes, Rik sat with him, quietly playing on his guitar or actively taking part which left offerings to two very divergent dieties. Usually Vars was alone and his rituals to the stage started earlier than any other. Going into the shower or beginning to dress started a cascade of practiced motions. Every piece of religious jewelry kissed and praised before it was put back into place on his body after a shower. When the venue had no shower, Vars would start back at the hotel and ride alone to the venue. He was formal and staunch in the way things must go, demanding that they proceed as always.
Rik had a looser interpretation of these rituals before the stage. Most musicians left their instruments on the stage but Rik always sat with the guitar he intended to play while the others went into their quiet space. There wasn't a specific thing in mind but it was a communion with the instrument. A moment to feel it there until it was again part of his body, an extension of his mind and emotions. He would sometimes hide away on some back stairwell or room away from everyone else; in the solitude and sometimes the dark.
Robert's brother Rekker was now with them and he was precise and manic over things. He wasn't usually on stage but worked on preparations on the stage, mostly tuning and sound check. He grated on things until he sometimes drifted near losing his temper. A solid tuning with a device was never enough. He relied on his instincts to tweak even the digital tuning to a more authentic and perfect note. Used to the stage himself, he zoned out with the others, checking and rechecking equipment. Often enough it left him still standing on the stage, staring at the equipment when the crowds came in. The lone man with flame red hair eyeing every piece of the stage. He knew the quirks of the other musicians and their equipment but it was no less a ritual than those in the dressing room.
Robert and Damien had a rhythm of walking the building while the others dressed, first on their own and then together. They watched for any weaknesses, noted escape routes and discussed placement of security. It was a walking meditation like old buddhist monks. Slow, observant and with few words. The two had settled in together. Damien the eyes and Robert the one who parsed the data like this was a combat zone. Both men were used to that exact scenario and pre-show was a traditional meditation on battle plans they hoped they would never have to implement. They too knew the quirks of the musicians, where they hid out for isolation before a show and in the cool down after a performance. Their time in quiet lasted longer than the others and demanded a hyper focus rather than zoning out. No less a compulsion after so many shows together.
The other band members had their own ways too. Preshow gear up was as individual as personalities, private and neceassary. The whole ordeal ventured close to superstitious for everyone in the production but this was how every show felt like the peak of performance for the bands. A matter of luck and tradition that had built up over months and even years.
