Theatre Series: Experience

There are many varied aspects in the theatrical realm, but every single one of them point toward the same, singular goal: to put on a good show. In all honesty, can you really have a show without an audience? Hint: the answer is no.

I have had the privilege of being involved in almost every area of the theatre, but I must say that it is wonderful to be able to go out and view the work of other casts and crews. This is exactly what I did on Saturday night. My sister and I went to a musical in St. Joseph, Missouri titled The Drowsy Chaperone. It was an absolutely stunning production.

The show begins in the dark, and our guide “Man in Chair” is speaking to us. About theatre. One could call this “meta-theatre” I suppose. In any case, he is a riveting individual, and when the lights come up we are in his home. He invites us to listen to his record of The Drowsy Chaperone, and when he plays it the curtain flies up and the show begins. Throughout the musical, Man in Chair adds his commentary, and we come to love him in the process.

Sitting in the audience in that theatre, watching him talk to us about his love for theatre, I laughed and cried. I soared at every high point, and felt the gut wrenching emotions I was supposed to at the low points. Everyone did. There is a sort of strange, communal experience which every audience member shares. It is intriguing because no show is ever exactly the same, and no audience is ever exactly the same. When I am watching a show I am part of something wholly and completely unique; utterly unable to be reproduced. Walking out of the show that night, I felt that those who had been complete strangers before the show were suddenly fast friends of mine. We had all been through something together that would never happen again.

Everyone should watch theatre. Why? Because it is an experience that you cannot have in any other place. Theatre is catharsis. It is a living, breathing art with nothing but an imagined fourth wall between yourself and the world being created on the stage. Watching a show is very much like being transported to another world through the pages of a book, except that these stories do what every child dreams of—they come alive.

These living stories are sometimes happy, occasionally humorous, mildly dramatic but almost always full of relevant truths that the audience can carry out the lobby doors with them.

Let’s go back to The Drowsy Chaperone. There are moments in which I began to understand parts about Man in Chair’s life outside of these few hours he was spending with us. He had been in love, and he had lost that love through divorce. He was a tortured individual. These records of musicals were his only escape from the reality which he had to live through every single day.

Isn’t that the way theatre works, though? We all claw our way through this mad thing they call life. Sometimes, even if it’s just for a few hours while sitting in chair 14, row D, we’d like to escape and watch someone else’s world for awhile.


Theatre Series: Design

The designer in a theatre is often the most overlooked individual, at least from the audience’s perspective. There is a certain respect all audience members hold for the builder, the director, and always the actor–but the designer, the mind behind the set, costumes, lights and whatnot–is often forgotten. I myself have been a designer and experienced this firsthand.

When I was in community college, our director always built design teams from his student body. For my very first production with him, I was put on the costume team because I could sew. He has always been one of those men who wanted everyone to use the skills they already have–and yet he was also very willing to teach his students things they might not otherwise know (i.e., how to use a DeWalt drill).

When the production opened (I was also acting in the show), I was excitedly looking around at all the costumes my team had designed. There was so much symbolism! Each character had specific color schemes that directly related to their personality, and every bird that was mentioned in the show (because birds were a very important theme) had a character whose costume related to it. I was soon to realize, though, that none of the audience was nearly as excited as I had expected.

We acted! We tore up that stage. The production was wonderful, and afterwards as I spoke with audience members, I could hear them congratulating everyone on how well the actors did, how fantastic the set was, the effective way that the actors were directed—but no one seemed to have picked up on the symbolism we had so carefully crafted into the costumes. The asymmetrical lines for the mentally twisted characters, the red fabric to represent the life force of each person on the stage, the yellows and browns used for the main character and her family—it seemed like no one understood all of the thought that went into those things.

It wasn’t just the costume design that had been overlooked. Set had symbolism, too, but that is almost never seen. What people see is the work that went into building the set, not designing it.

Then there are the lighting designers. If you have not designed lights, you do not understand the amount of work that goes into it. Hanging lights and covering the stage properly is work in and of itself, but there is a lot of work going into the color choices and the transitions as well. It is lighting that almost no one in the audience will think about. To the average audience member, the lights are simply flipped on at the beginning of the show and then flipped off at the end. Little do they know, it is not that easy.

I write this to bring about awareness of the work that goes into the design of a production. Perhaps next time you go to a theatrical event, you will notice more of the subtleties that are involved. Remember that every color and every pattern is chosen for a reason—it isn’t like we spin a color wheel to decide which one the main character’s dress will be.

Published in: on October 7, 2013 at 11:06 pm  Leave a Comment  
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