Anastasia, like every musical I’ve ever played in, was chaos. But also just like every musical I’ve ever played in, it was the best kind of chaos.

For those who have never participated in a theater production before, here’s what playing in the pit is like:

• In a musical, the pit is the band or orchestra that plays the instrumental part of the music live. It’s called the pit because it typically sits in a big pit in front of the stage. We did not do this because there wasn’t a stage.
• We rehearse, ideally once a week, without the cast.
• At some point, we have what’s called the “sitzprobe,” where the cast joins us and we get to hear the lyrics for the first time.
• Then, a week before opening night, tech week; chaos. Tech week is when you get to run the entire show every single night of the week. Prepare to do your homework on your music stand between musical numbers.

I had the pleasure of playing three musicals in high school. The shows were all different, as were the instruments I used, but one thing that remained constant was the chaos. Whereas most of the schools around us began practicing the show tunes at the beginning of the semester, sometimes earlier, our school began rehearsing about a month before opening night. The sitzprobe always sounded terrible, and the beginning of tech week felt hopeless; how could this show ever be good? One year, I had a clarinet dumped on my lap and was told to learn it two weeks before tech. Another year, I had to rewrite the timpanist’s music during the opening night intermission because he couldn’t read it and had failed to tell anyone so. And yet, by opening night, we had a show, and it was always so much fun to play in.

When I was asked to join the Anastasia pit, I couldn’t refuse. When tech week finally rolled around, the task of having a presentable show within five days seemed insurmountable: the microphones weren’t working, the set was being built around us as we rehearsed, and we had yet to finish a run-through of the show without needing to stop. Notes were flubbed, queues were missed, we kept playing out of sync with each other, my bassoon stopped working properly, and we started to wonder if the show was ever going to come together. 

But once again, against all odds, it did. Friday came, and we had a set, of (mostly) working microphones, and we sounded great! The laughter and applause from the audience was a wonderful treat, but the satisfaction of having put together a show was its own reward. 

On Saturday evening, as we played the last few notes of our final piece, I couldn’t help but feel bittersweet. While I don’t miss going home at ten and doing my homework well into the night, I do miss that beautiful chaos, and its uncanny ability to become order at the very last moment.

Anastasia Pit Orchestra via Olivia Kuan-Romano