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Harbor Country Living
ON THE ROAD
UNION PIER, MI — A lot of guys would kill for the chance to be the
stage manager (and head carpenter) for a famous rock band like Styx, but
that’s not how Russ Voyta landed the job.
It was a combination of things — his experience, his reputation for
efficiency, a little luck perhaps. And, of course, personal connections.
“My best friend from high school first got me into the business,”
the Union Pier resident admitted with a grin. His friend was Rocko Reedy,
and he and Russ weren’t just good pals. They were also part of the
same band during their teenage years growing up in suburban Chicago. Russ
played drums; Rocko played bass guitar. The two eventually went off in different
directions, but they kept in touch. Neither waned in his obsession with
music.Supporting himself as a truck driver and construction worker, Russ
continued to pursue opportunities as a drummer. He got a big break in 1983,
when he began a two-year affiliation with Street Corner Blue, a nine-piece
Motown-style horn band.
“It was nice to finally start making enough money just from the music,”
he said. In 1985, his two roommates at the time, both of whom were members
of the band Survivor, invited him to accompany them on a tour as the band’s
drum tech (as in “technician”) — the guy who sets up and
looks after the drums, essentially. It was Russ’s first time working
on a traveling stage crew.
Meanwhile, Rocko’s affinity for stringed instruments had landed
him a job as guitar tech with Styx. He worked for the band for a couple
years, gradually
moving up the ranks, and eventually got the chance to work as a production
manager for the likes of Aerosmith, Kiss, U2 and other artists. When the
opportunity presented itself, Rocko used his influence to do a favor for
an old buddy “It was November of 1988,” Russ recalled. “I
came home from work and found a message from Rocko asking
me if I’d be interested in filling in for a carpenter who had to
leave a Bon Jovi tour because of a family emergency.” The pay was
$950 a week, and he had to decide that day. The answer was yes (actually,
it was more like, “Hell, yes!”), and a one-way airline ticket
to Miami, the next scheduled stop on Bon Jovi’s tour, arrived by
messenger the next day.
“I was gone four months,” Russ said. Next came a two-year
stint as a carpenter with the
Scorpions, a hard-rock band popular with what Russ described as “the
leather and nose-ring crowd.”
“I don’t know why they call you a carpenter — just about
everything is made of steel and aluminum!” Russ said. “We
did a lot of traveling with the Scorpions,” he added. “Japan,
Australia, New Zealand, all over Europe, Canada and the States. That was
in 1990 and
‘91.” Around that time is when Russ officially changed addresses
from Illinois to Harbor Country, where his family’s roots run deep.
“My grandfather was one of the founders of Camp Sokol,” he
said. “My dad came here from the time he was a baby, and I’ve
been coming here from the time I was a baby.”
In 1992, Russ was picked to be the head carpenter on a John Mellencamp
tour. That lasted for a year, and then came a true change of pace: a one-year
traveling soccer tour sponsored by Sprint and MasterCard. The show traveled
with its own portable soccer
field, Russ recalled with mock resignation: “It took six semi trucks
just to haul the Astro-Turf!”
On the plus side, 1993 was also the year that Russ married lifelong Harbor
Country resident Dana Carlson. The two had met at Redamak’s restaurant
in New Buffalo
a few years earlier. Dana was working there at the time, and Russ came
in as a customer. Or, as Dana described the encounter: “He came
in for a cheeseburger and left with the hostess....”
Russ got back on another Mellencamp tour in 1994 and again in 1995. The
following year, he was hired to work on what was promoted as Styx’s
“Return to Paradise” Tour, but he “bailed out”
after only four months. “I got homesick, and I realized I just didn’t
want to be on the road any more,” he said. So, just like that, Russ
quit the business, came home to Harbor Country and began working for a
local construction company. Soon he was playing the drums again, and plotting
to form a band of his own.
And that might very well have been how the story ended, but when he got
laid off from his construction gig three years ago, he gave in to the
temptation to see if any of the road crews he had worked with in the past
might possibly have something for him to do.
Not only did Styx want him back, they quickly made him their stage manager
and head carpenter. He’s been with the band ever since. “They’re
talking 105 shows next year,” Russ said. The venues typically range
from casinos and smaller theatres to outdoor bandshells (called “sheds”
in crew vernacular) to huge arenas like Chicago’s United
Center.
As stage manager, Russ is responsible for making sure that everything
— the lighting, the audio system, the instruments and even the stage
itself — is in place and ready to go when the performers make their
appearance. “It’s like a huge puzzle that you have to work
out in a certain order every day,” he said. Russ also hires all
of the stage hands that are needed for every concert. Depending on the
size of the show, that’s anywhere from 8 to 26 people in each city.
What makes it challenging is that every venue is different. “For
the smaller shows, we might need only one truck and a crew of 10,”
Russ said. “For an arena tour, with
multiple bands, it might take seven to ten semis and a crew to match.”
Such was the case this past summer, when Styx teamed up with the bands
Journey and REO Speedwagon for an extended tour.
Russ also worked several benefit concerts — in Dallas, Atlanta and
New York — to raise money for the families of police officers killed
at the World Trade Center two years ago on September 11. Another highlight
of the summer was the Harley-Davidson motorcycle company’s 100-year
anniversary party in Milawaukee. “To tell you the truth, I was kind
of surprised that the Harley crowd liked Styx,” Russ said, “but
they
did. It was a great show.”
A typical show day for a stage manager is 17 or 18 hours long, Russ said.
“I’m there at 7 a.m., when the first truck door opens, and
I’m still there at 1 a.m., when the last door is closed.”
By the time his day is done, he’s probably walked between 12 and
16 miles, Russ estimated. “The killer,” he adds, “is
that you often have to do that three or four days in a row before you
get a day off.” And if you’re far from home, a day off doesn’t
mean
you go home to enjoy it. Sometimes it’s just a rest day in a hotel
room until the next town and the next show.
When Russ was young and single, a day off often meant a party day, but
not any more.
“I used to look for the party. Now what I look for is a good restaurant,”
he quipped.
The schedule on the road can be grueling, Russ said. “Sometimes
you’re gone three weeks and come home for six days, or you might
be on the road for two-and-a-half weeks and then get four days off. You
take what you get.” It comes as no surprise that, when he does get
a chance to come home, he prefers to stay there, or at least close by.
“I enjoy hanging out at home with my wife, especially if she’s
wearing her ‘footsie’ pajamas,” Russ joked. He also
enjoys cooking, fishing and rough-housing with Kacy and Shadow, the two
dogs he and Dana have adopted into their family. Life on the road may
have certain appeals, but Russ will be the first one to tell you that
the old saying
is true: There really is no place like home.
January 22, 2004 -Ray
Gudas
Copyright © 2004 Harbor Country News– may not be copied or
reproduced without expressed written permission.
Previous
editions of Harbor Country Living are in the Archives
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