Alongside me on standby were my crew of 22 black-clad teens, silently hidden in the wings and lighting box, primed and ready for action. 

On stage, in position behind the sets, were a dozen bedazzled cast and one dog ready to burst into song for the opening number. 

What I didn’t expect to hear through my headset at that moment were the show-stopping words, “A sewing machine is being run to dressing room one!” 

Our leading lady was actually sewn into her evening gown for our final two shows, and cut out of it side stage for her speedy costume change. 

So, although I have nearly finished unpacking more than 30 props from crates in my car shed, I think the anxious moments of production week might take even longer to unpack and process. 

Even more unpredictable was the show during which our director was feeling ill. 

Already under enormous pressure, she had taken a friend to hospital the previous night, so was suffering sleep deprivation.   

Unexpectedly during Act One, while all the singing, dancing and set changes were in full swing, a call for something sweet came over the headset as the director’s exhaustion kicked in and combined with a sugar low to give her the shakes. 

With dog handlers the only team members I could spare, I asked them to desert their posts and sent them running in different directions to find the necessary sugar hit in the form of lollies and get some assistance to our leader.

All the while I was trying to plan what our options were if she could not continue to call the shots, and hit all the music buttons on cue. 

The prize-winning moment to ponder though, which actually proved a triumph, was a computer failure on opening night which resulted in the cast singing a cappella. 

Doing as they should when the music cut out, they continued to sing their hearts out and sounded fabulous. 

In the theatre it is important to keep all the drama on the stage, but sometimes it just isn’t possible. 

- Yolande Grosser