Senior Year

Originally posted on www.cbtheatre.org

We can see the end without a telescope.

This show has a longer run than any I’ve done. We’ve just finished number fourteen out of eighteen performances over a four week period, which is at least twice the length to which I am accustomed. All this and we still have another week left, four more shows to do. Four more houses to fill. Four more times to don the costumes and the ridges, to excite and enlighten and entertain our audiences. Four more post-show photo opportunities. Four more chances to enjoy the company of my castmates and crew.

I don’t want it to end.

The attitude of everyone involved in this production is heartening. Frequently by the end of a run a group of people is just tired by all of this. We’re ready to be done with it already and move on to the next phase of our lives, the next show, the next gig, or taking a couple of weeks off to recuperate, but I’m sensing none of that with this cast. We’re still enjoying the process, from the moment of arrival at the theatre to the last person to leave the building as our stage manager locks up.

The dressing room is still alive with energy both before and after the show. We still talk and joke and take pleasure in one another’s company. We still play and try to make each other laugh backstage. We still seek (and find) chances to spend time together outside of our responsibilities.

And it is a testament to the talent and dedication of this cast and crew that we’re still striving to improve the show. As we run through fight call, our Fight Captain continues to watch and give us notes. He’ll tweak a bit of choreography here and there to ensure that we play it safe, appear to be dangerous, and keep it exciting. I can also spot minor variations in other of the cast performances, such as different lines being ad-libbed. This last bit is particularly impressive as none of us speaks the language. It means that the actors are trying to keep things fresh and interesting for themselves (and thus the audience) by researching different things to say, practicing the pronunciation, and making it come off naturally.

Theatre is a living, breathing, holistic entity. It is comprised of multiple interactions both overt and subtle. If one actor changes his words or actions, however slightly, like ripples in a pond the rest of the cast is affected, and thus so is the audience. The audience provides the greatest variable, because they don’t go through the same dance as the rest of us each night, thus they have the greatest potential to change what happens on stage.

We affect you so that you’ll affect us. It’s a cumulative reverberation that enlivens everyone under the roof. This week I have been, once again, both proud of and honored by my fellow cast and crewmates who show up each week to breathe on this hot coal to produce a flame that consumes us all.

This show isn’t a chore. It is an honor, and it is a pleasure. If you saw us early the run, you’ll catch a slightly different one now. You’ll see a show with tighter choreography, a cast with less anxiety and a greater sense of play. Come on closing night, and you’ll even see Il Troubadore perform with us again.

But more important; this week is the last time you’ll be able to see the show in its current incarnation. This is the seventh year of performance, the third in Chicago, yet it’s not the same from one year to the next. The cast varies, some years more than others. The director changes, the stage differs, the fights are restructured, and the costumes are modified. This show, like any other, is a symbiotic construction involving the talents and capabilities of everyone involved, and we all work very hard to ensure it’s a worthwhile endeavor no matter what side of the stage you’re on.

There are four lights. Make the most of them.