I was chatting on facebook with one of my favorite
people in the world last weekend (I have to say that, in case he’s one of the
nine people who read this blog). After some complaining about the weather, as I
am wont to do, I mentioned that I needed to sign off in 10 minutes to go work
house at a local theatre.
B: “What is house?”
Me: “Running the concession stand, handing out programs, selling tickets, etc.”
B: “Do you get to eat any candy?”
Me: “Nope.”
B: “So.....why are you doing this again?”
It took me but half a second to respond to his
question, but it stuck with me all night as I filled popcorn bags, tore
tickets, handed out programs, sold oversized boxes of Junior Mints and emptied
trash cans. Why would I do this?
Why did I once pack myself into a claustrophobic
cranny on a dizzying catwalk for two hours at a time, for the sole purpose of
turning on a spotlight during the second act of a show, subsequently turning it off again three minutes
later? 4 times a week, for 4 weeks?
Why did I spend an entire show running back and
forth between four light trees, frantically slipping gels in and out of the
instruments for a solid hour and a half?
Why did I spend the entire run of a production
sitting offstage, screaming incoherently at random points in the show?
And why, oh why, did I spend 24 hours of my life
sitting in the bowels of a theatre, my head crammed a mere inches from the
boards, surrounded by darkness, perched on a cold, metal chair, with only an
angry chicken for company? An angry chicken, I might add, that I was
responsible for chucking up through a trapdoor once a night, four nights a
week, for three weeks.
I’m a director, for the love of Thespis! Why would
I do these things, among a myriad of other strange, boring, dirty, thankless
jobs in theatre?
If you’re reading this blog, I suspect you already
know the answer. If you don’t know the
answer, come hang out with me in the theatre sometime. If the magic doesn’t
touch you, then at the very least, you can’t help but bear witness to how the
magic touches me.
I have only done 1 full show since high school (1995) and I already see why you do it. I am hooked and shall be doing it until the end of my days.
ReplyDeleteIf theatre had a hundred like you, nay, a thousand - community theatre wouldn't be in the precarious position it is now.
ReplyDeleteI salute your passion and hope it inspires a new generation - the generation I'M in is just really, really tired....:)
@A. Cheapman: Welcome back!
ReplyDeleteAnonymous: If you're the anonymous I think you are, then A, I suspect we're in the same generation. B, I promise you, not everyone in your generation is worn out. C, it's ok. Go take a nap. We got this. ;)
I get it. I suspect this would be the part of theater that I would like and possibly be good at. The onstage stuff? Not so much, and the keeping everybody in line (or on line, as the case may be)? I could do it, but we might not all be happy campers. You go, girl!
ReplyDelete