A Spoon Full of Sugar
I doubt it will come as any great shock that I have a love of the theater. If I ever thought I could have made a living, or somehow liked to eat less, I would have majored in Theater in college and run away to become an Equity actor long, long ago. Shocked, right? I always seemed so sensible, right? Well, it all goes out the window when I walk into the theater.
I think the first time I ever was on stage (that I remember) was my Kindergarten graduation. I really don’t count that, as I don’t think I had a special part. By 4th grade, I appeared as a cow — shut up, I was one awesome cow. But my peak in performing in elementary school was as a bell in the Christmas play. I was Beautiful Bell, I think — I know I wore royal blue tights and leotard, something that was a pain for my mom to find at Christmas time. I had lines and I rocked the part. My big line had something to do with telling another bell that he ‘had bats in his belfry.’ I digress.
Anyway, I performed as much as a small high school without a real drama program would allow. I auditioned for a production my freshman year of college and while I didn’t get the part, I was pass on to the community theater for a part in ‘A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum’ — I wore a red wig and some peacock feathers. After that production, I started to do far more work behind the scenes. I stage managed, I painted, I helped with costumes, I helped. I appeared on stage once more after that — a bit part, where I played a god in a production that was so not noteable that I do not recall the name of it. But for most of college I spent a fair bit of time in a small theater.
Then I graduated and moved on to real life, thinking I’d return to theater at some point. Oh, sure I’ve gone to see many plays, but I always thought sitting the audience was a poor substitute to being ‘involved.’ Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen shows that have moved me to tears and some had me weak with laughter. I love to attend, and don’t turn down chances — but if you asked me my preference, I’d be on stage or behind it over in the audience every single days (and twice on Sunday). To me there is magic in the producing, not just the performing. But I put that in the someday category….someday…
Well, it just so happened that with a certain child’s birthday, there was a production of Mary Poppins in the area. With great joy the Queen Mum, Duke, and one (overly excited) Queen went to enjoy the theater. I can’t tell you the thrill of watching something you love being loved by your child. It took every once of my mommy will not to get sucked into the play myself to watch my child get the same look in his eyes that I once got.
He was enchanted and thrilled. We spoke of the sets moving and changing afterwards. He was (like I have been so many times) literally a part of the play.
I remember the high and mighty theater classes I’ve taken. They speak of the audience as part of the show. They speak how the audience reacts as being a character itself and changing nightly. I always thought that was weird. I always thought the idea was just trying to make something so special have meaning it didn’t have. Yes, as the audience you are asked to suspend disbelief. You are asked to react and engage — but you are not truly part of the experience. From my point of view, the play is built in the weeks and months of work to get it ready for the audience. It is in the blood, sweat, and tears of the those who work, not those who just show up and watch. What did they bring to the table? What work did they do? Why are they elevated to participant when truly they are merely observers.
But then I watched my son. I watched him not just suspend disbelief, but become part of the story. He played with the children. He ran away from nannies. He flew a kite with Michael and fed birds with Jane. He danced with statues and shook hands with Sweeps. He was there and LIVED it all for those hours.
So, for a few hours the theory of theater was correct. We played a key role in the production of this single performance. And it was good. It was really good. Not because the singing was above par or that the dancing would put the Lord of the Dance to shame — but solely because we were there and we were enchanted.
For the first time in years, I’ve started to hear the sirens’ call of the theater again. I just checked out an audition (and a few tech positions) and I may or may not pursue it. I see volunteering again as a possibility. But I might start exploring that new role I just found as audience with my son. I wonder what worlds we will conquer together and where we might go. But mostly, I wonder if he will love it like I do — and thus far, my magic 8-ball says — YES.