I have been hired many times on productions only to handle celebrity talent so the executive producer doesn’t have to, or because they are afraid of them.
While Ms. Ross’s rider was nothing out of the ordinary regarding food, beverage, or amenities, it was noted (like most mature, female performers, that there are no close-ups or tight medium camera shots).
I DID receive an email from her agent stating that upon her arrival, the entire backstage would need to be cleared of people.
I’ve gotten this before for people who do not want to be seen in sweatpants or, over the years, have gotten sensitive to any kind of staring. To which I generally reply, “Well if no one is allowed backstage when your client is there, then who’s going to run the show?”
The agent then suggested we pipe and drape or curtain off her walk from the stage door to the dressing room. Which I was also not doing.
Backstage is not public, and while I agree, that no unnecessary people should be backstage (I love throwing people out), that week alone, our crew worked with the President of the United States followed by Jerry Seinfeld. So, while an icon of yesteryear, respectfully, I don’t think anyone is gunning for Diana Ross.
Her backup singers rehearsed earlier along with her road manager/soundman, Karl Sagan (not the astronomer, unfortunately).
A fun little tidbit was that Ms. Ross rarely if ever does soundcheck for non-theater concert venues. So poor Karl has to quickly and hopefully EQ her mic and level into the house mix before there is too much feedback or drowning out of her vocals. It rarely goes well, and Karl is fired regularly at the end of each evening.
Ms. Ross’s house was only 40 minutes from the venue. The show was already underway when I was alerted to the car pick-up and ETA. She arrived at my backstage door, along with her dresser, I escorted them to the dressing room and the door closed for 30 minutes.
This was a problem because I needed to brief her. I would knock on her door here and there, and she would peek her head out like a scared bunny and answer questions.
Simultaneously, the program was running long. Too long. And in the event, Ms. Ross is waiting more than one hour and forty-five minutes, she gets to leave and be paid. To which I say, GOOD FOR HER! I mean, sure I won’t clear my crew, or put up privacy sheets, but she IS Diana-Fucking-Ross.
I knock on her door again and this time, she welcomes me in. We review show items and then chat for a few. Normal life stuff. I never, ever talk to a celebrity about anything work or icon-related.
I left the dressing room and called the booth to inform them that they had 15 minutes to get her on stage or she was out. This means they have to alter that part of the show’s execution while running the show in front of them, alert cameras, audio, video, stage management, lighting, and alternate performers & presenters of the changes. AND her agreement states the entire stage must be cleared of teleprompters, scenic logos, and any non-permanent scenic pieces. I wished them luck and brought her to the stage wing.
At this point, she came out of her dressing room and was just who you’d hope she was. She was old show business. She knew what to do. She led ME to the wing of stage left. It was only she and I. Everyone else was put on stage right.
It was a tight space. I handed her the mic, the band was cued to begin. She turned to me and said, “No matter what happens tonight … all I ask … is that you page that curtain wide enough so my wig doesn’t get caught.”
We both laughed and in the wing, she began singing “I’m Comin’ Out” to get the crowd going. She even nudged me to sing along.
I prepped a flashlight to light up her first step onto the stage for safety when she stopped me. “No no! I don’t want to telegraph when or where I’m coming in.” I love this woman! Know your business.
The show was great. The sound was fair. Karl was fired again. And on to the next gig.