A Love Letter to Theater and the Love that Comes from It

Today was the first rehearsal of my Freelance troupe.  The room was full of excitement for the announcement of the play and parts.  It was both a reunion and introduction of friends, no longer overwhelmed with anxiety for the audition.  Inevitably there was some disappointment with not having a name, not having this many lines… but all in all an exciting start to the fall.

Every time I see those disappointed eyes count through the lines, I wish I could tell the kids, you know you won the prize.  The real prize of theater.  It really isn’t about the stage time – although I know that’s why so many of us get involved in the first place – to put ourselves into the clothes and makeup of a character for all our friends and family to see.  But, today most especially, I realize that is not what has kept me going back for thirty-some years.  It’s actually often the consequence of time not on the stage – indeed those parts when there is one scene and a lot of green room time – when I reap the reward of kinship with the other ensemble players… who end up being those said friends in the audience.

This summer a play almost literally landed in my lap.  I wasn’t seeking to commit myself to a show with my crazy long commute and other things I wanted to pursue this summer… but it ended up being a happy accident.  It was a great part, a great play… and from it I remembered that happy reward of doing a show, finding and connecting with kindred spirits.  It wasn’t one of those shows where I’ll walk away from the connections made and merely hope to have another collision of stage time in the near or distant future.  The near future is already jam packed with plans to revisit those conversations and laughs we had in between the moments on stage.

I do think that is one of the good things about Facebook now.  That these people don’t fall off my radar – even as our lives get busy with other things like job or family or a decision to walk away from the darker side of theater.  And my own determination to forge a reality from Facebook connections over dinner helps to cement those friendships at least once every few months in the flesh.  And I get to remember why I like these people so much – why I like theater so much – why life is so very cool filling the world with such creative, humorous, generous minds.

Facebook is actually how I got to know Lisa.  We were both cast in a production of the Vagina Monologues.  We were sitting at opposite sides of the Stageloft auditorium when she made the connection that we shared a mutual friend and she had read my verbose comments.  That connection led to talking and laughing and our own Facebook friendship.  I still lived in the Boston area so our busy lives found it difficult to have many face to face meetings, but in spite of that, I knew I had found a kindred spirit

I could probably count the number of our meetings on two hands – well beyond the rehearsal process.  But I can remember every single one… and they delighted me because she was definitely one of my favorite people.

Today she took her last bow.  I feel sad, but glad I knew her.  Glad for that random February two and a half years ago when I decided to do a play.  Glad that a collection of moments under the stage lights left such a deep impact on my life forever.

I imagine people find connections like this in their church or maybe a sport they play or a book club… but there is really nothing in my life quite like the theater friendships I have collected over the years.  Some have faded.  Some broke.  But they all have such lasting impressions, such meaningful moments that make me who I am and make life such a joy.

On the way back from rehearsal, I decided to revisit one of my old Newton neighborhoods with a stop at Trader Joe’s – and for tonight’s necessary bottle of wine, my old favorite, Marty’s.  Funny how memories unlock themselves so readily in the time of grief.  In the midst of their crowded re-stocking after renovations, I found myself in the rum aisle.  A bottle of Mt. Gay Rum made me think of the best cast party I ever hosted at my Newtonville apartment.  It was an appropriately themed Thanksgiving feast that doubled as a wedding reception.  Even though I only make cameo appearances in that group of theater friends these days, I still smiled as I checked out and then deliberately drove passed 37 Washington Park.  A truly magical memory – the like of which I think only theater can provide.

It is a mix of emotions isn’t it?  Nostalgia.  Contentment.  A sense of belonging.  Romance.  Rejection.  Betrayal.  Kinship.  Grief.  Knowing the invisible for brief fleeting minutes between lights up and lights down.  Love.

I’m glad for all of it.  Every conflicted, brilliant moment.  And I’m so very glad I shared the stage with Lisa Glasheen.