Tedium! Monotony! Dreariness! The thesaurus uses these words to describe the allotment of time in the calendar year that is specifically set aside to un-bedeck your abode from the holiday season. I need help with this. Someone who knows which ornaments go into what box, and where that particular container was strewn in the pre-holiday decorating frenzy.
What is normally stacked in the closet of the not-used-so-much-anymore nursery is now cavalierly shoved under a bed, in a linen closet, a cellar landing, an attic way, or a pantry. Where is the person who could steer me to each appropriate container, give me a map of how it should be packed, and keep on my back until it is done? I want that person, with all their knowledge of things I find mind-numbing but necessary, beside me right now. I need a stage manager at home!
Quite a while back I was rambling on about something or other and said that at some point I would come back to the stage manager position and explain just what that entailed. I think this is that point, and let me explain why.
As I looked over the history of TCP which is kept beside my computer to refresh my memory about what shows belong where, I noticed that this season was the first time TCP participated in the PA State Theater Festival. The PA State Theater Association was established to promote community theater companies in the Commonwealth.
They hold a festival each year where companies can take part in seminars, workshops and competitions. The general rules for the competitive end of the weekend are simple: bring a show that doesn’t run over one hour; you have five minutes to set up and tear down; and you compete head to head with every participating company in the state, regardless of company or community size.
TCP was the smallest company in the festival process this season. We went toe to toe with companies from Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Erie and all the surrounding areas. What was so remarkable about this experience was that our tiny company, with its extremely dramatic production entitled Haiku, came in as first runner-up in the entire festival.
What made this accessible to us, although we had fabulous performances from Christine Lusardi-Stoner, Jennifer DeCoste and Chris Allen, was all the work and planning put into it by our stage manager. Ed Kuhstos took on the challenge of venturing into the unknown with all its convoluted rules and regulations. He was responsible for our check-in, set load-in, costume placement, make-up calls, timing everything that happened on-stage and timing the tear down.
That is what a stage manager does – everything. He is the go-to guy when you need to know what piece fits into what puzzle. Without a stage manager the director could never be free to create the magic that brings a play to life, the lighting designer would never have a cue to follow, the costumer wouldn’t know what date the costumes were due in the theater, the actors in the dressing rooms wouldn’t know when to come upstairs to go on-stage. In fact, without a stage manager there is chaos!
I have been fortunate to work with several great stage managers including Ed, Nancy Sloss and John Coltabaugh, and would like to take this opportunity to thank them from, not only myself, but every member of a production for keeping it from running itself into the ground. They get no applause, no bows, very little credit, but the stage manager is one of the key people in a theater presentation. They are the glue!
Aside from our experience in Meadville at Festival this season, TCP performed an exquisite slate of productions in our home theater in the YMCA. We began the season under the tutelage of Sharon Lucas with her stage manager, Maureen Drain, at her side as we prepared the perennial favorite Bell, Book and Candle.
Leading the very capable cast of Heather Patton, Sarah Brand and PyeWackit were Darcy Wilson and Chuck Brand as Jillian and Shepard respectively.
Jillian’s apartment in this production was lovingly and painstakingly designed and painted by Sharon Lucas, complete with hand painted windows, wall art, and tribal masks. The 1950’s period costumes were fitted, re-fitted, and then fitted again by Carolyn Patton. This production, for all who are not familiar with the very popular script, was about a sweet natured witch and contained several special effects, magic tricks and lighting effects.
The ultimate responsibility for all those extraneous slices of the theater pye (that’s a play on words you know) was the responsibility of the stage manager.
The second offering in the fifteenth season was the beautiful, dark musical Fiddler on the Roof.
Constructing the small, Russian village of Anatevka on the stage in the theater took some doing, but the results were warm and pleasing. This is a fabulous musical, a rare breed among like kind because it has a real, deep, well defined story. Sometimes musicals rely heavily on the score to convey the narrative and give less time to characters and history.
Fiddler on the Roof is different. Because this is a rendering of true-life situations, the story and the people in it are multi-layered and lush.
Chuck Brand’s portrayal of Tevye, the Russian milkman trying to preserve his family, traditions, and faith while in the epicenter of great adversity, was a true pleasure to watch.
He became completely absorbed in the character and was truly phenomenal! There were no vestiges of Chuck on the stage, it was only Tevye, and that is the highest compliment you can offer a performer.
The supporting cast was filled with outstanding actors, singers and dancers. Mary Jane Bickle was the quintessential Golde, Tevye’s slightly acerbic, necessarily so, wife. It was a special production for the Bickle family who have been involved with TCP since The Music Man in 1987. Fiddler on the Roof was not only one of Mary Jane’s favorite shows, but it also marked the first time she was able to appear on-stage with both of her children at the same time. Kate Bickle gave a lovely, sensitive performance as Tseitel, Tevye and Golde’s eldest daughter, and David, a professional actor, came home from The Big Apple to be a bottle dancer in the wedding scene of the show.
It was one of those warm-fuzzy moments that don’t happen very often, when true life happenings mimic what is on stage.
Through it all, there was Ed Kuhstos, stage manager, attending to every little detail, allowing all the warm-fuzzy, bottle dancing, milk-cart pulling, ideas to become a reality.
Our final show for the season, our annual dinner theater, was once again held in the Citizens Social Hall. AJ Gurney’s comic play, The Dining Room, takes place in any-home USA with any (and every) family that lives there.
There are six performers in this script and they each portray three-to-five characters, ranging from the most elderly grandparent to very young children. The thread that binds this play together is that all the vignettes take place around a dining table, the single location in every home where the most profound things can, and usually do, happen.
Melody McMillen directed this production, which traveled to The Casino in Lakemont for an encore performance, with all the organization and dedication she garnished from much experience as a proficient stage manager. Her cast was comprised of many talented performers, including Jennifer DeCoste, Carolyn Patton, Maureen Drain, Richard Ward and Chuck Brand, and they each rewarded the audience with authentic representations of American life.
It was really fun to watch these performers develop the characters they were going to portray. It wasn’t enough just to change the voice a little, they had to find that person deep inside themselves and allow them to come out and play. This often involved using tools such as hats, costume pieces, ball gloves, soda bottles – whatever made it real for them. (All of those things, by the way, were delivered under the watchful eye of the stage manager, Charity Hedberg, who made sure they were exactly what the performer required.)
It wasn’t unusual to see the group of them sitting around discussing the play in a wide and highly unusual array of attire. Women in men’s PJ’s, ball caps, old, natty sweaters. Men in skirts, robes and high heels, and very often a combination of all the above.
It’s all in the details, and the details are all in the hands of a stage manager. Wouldn’t it be great if we each had someone at home who could follow us and clean up all the little shavings that our life left behind?
That’s another reason that I love the theater so much, another unlikely, improbable, unrealistic dream that has found a place to light and be fulfilled. Viva the possibilities!
