indelible life

Something wonderful happened today. Rehearsal and a preview. It almost did not.

There is an unspoken yet widely acknowledged creed in the theatre. You are only as good as your technical staff. In a world of exultation of the individual, theatre remains one of the last true collaborative artforms. Running a theatre is like running a business only much more complex. Directors, set designers, stage managers, costume designers, wardrobe, dressers, wigs and hair, stage hands, sound designers, lighting designers, sound board op, light board op, producers, deans, acting coaches, voice and speech coaches, dialect coaches, production managers, movement coaches, and of course the performers… it’s a complex web of intricate workings and one cannot survive without the other. Think of it as spokes in a wheel. Each no more or less important than the other. At the hub of this wheel is the Technical Director.

It’s the final run through of The Laramie Project before it goes into Preview in the evening. Act one finishes as it normally does. Lights fade accompanied by a few sniffles in the audience, and a burst of applause. Without warning, what is affectionately known as the God mike crackles to life and heads turn as we hear, “I need all actors backstage left now, we need all your hands.” The voice belongs to Jeff Wilson, Tech Director and adviser for the Denver Center Department of Education and the Tramway Theatre [the DOE's private performance space.]

It has snowed over the night and all through the morning. Springtime in Denver often brings bursts of snowfall that piles up and melts quickly. It’s a heavy, wet snow - the kind you pray for as a child [or a 28 year old photographer], having hidden away a full length carrot, two pine cones [coal was not in large supply] and a small assortment of mismatched buttons. Today’s snow, however, is a little too much for the Tramway Theatre. During the first act, the roof has sprung a leak and water starts dripping into the wings. Had the theatre just been doing one show, things could have been moped up, a bucket placed under the drip, and problem solved. However, the theatre is now in REP, and the melted snow was dripping all over the freshly painted sets and props for Harvey.

Items are moved out of the way, but what started as a drip soon becomes a small leak and a then steadily flowing stream. A temporary fix of buckets, old costumes, and sponges allows the show to go on, as it always must, and Jeff Wilson, without flinching, starts to problem solve.

Theatre is too important to cancel. You perform at all costs. These stories need to be told.

here’s to all the unsung heroes of the Tramway.