As an audience member, when you come to a show, you see the actors. You hear the spoken lines. You see the costumes. You study the set and all of its many pieces. You watch props being used and hear the sound effects being played overhead. You see lights being dimmed and spotlights being maneuvered. You watch figures in black move quickly across the stage as the lights go down between scenes.
What people see when they come to the theater is a final product. A culmination of the efforts of many, working together like a well-oiled machine to create something bigger. Though that final production is the most important part to those on the outside, it's the months leading up to that where the real magic happens.
It's the sweaty palms and anxious breaths you take when you're practicing your monologue over and over again, trying to get it just right.
It's the silent room filled with nothing but your voice when you audition for the part that you think fits you perfectly.
It's the quick steps you take as you approach the cast list, eyes scanning for your name, breath held and waiting.
It's the elation you feel when you see your name printed next to the role you wanted, or maybe even the tears that start to well up when you don't see your name at all.
It's starting that first rehearsal, scripts in hand, standing on an empty stage, moving and imagining the set pieces and where they might be, making quick notes beside each of your lines.
It's slowly watching characters develop, master gestures being created, and being stopped by the director time and time again, as you both are trying to get everything just right.
It's being covered in paint, glitter, and hot glue as you put props and set pieces together, helping to create the world in which the characters will live.
It's the trips taken to the local thrift stores and hours spent scouring the internet for that perfect costume piece that will just make your character.
It's telling your friends, "I can't, I have rehearsal," every time they try to make plans.
It's watching the set being completed, the last piece being nailed into its place and props being placed on props carts, labeled and ready for use.
It's the stress and the dread of tech week, lighting cues being shouted, tears being shed. It's hearing the stage manager yell, "That can't happen!" more times than you can count.
It's the many dress rehearsals spent sitting quietly, costumes on, backstage in the dark with other cast and crew, just waiting for your cues. It's the satisfaction and excitement buzzing throughout the room when everything goes perfectly, and you hear your director say, "Guys, we have a show."
It's the hustle and bustle of opening night, dressing rooms filled with the smell of stage makeup and hairspray, everyone running back and forth behind the curtain, making sure everything and everyone is in its place.
It's hearing the stage manager shout, "Curtain in five!" and everyone shouting, "Thank you, five!" in reply.
It's hearing the lines you've heard a million times being spoken the same way, but being met with laughter and gasps instead of the silence of hundreds of empty chairs.
It's feeling the stage lights beating down on you, the audience watching your every move. It's the dropped lines, the (almost) broken characters, the accidental stumbles, misplaced props, and all of the costume malfunctions.
It's coming on stage for curtain call, listening to the audience clap and cheer, beaming out at them and at all of your cast mates and crew with pride, and knowing you get to do it all over again the next day.
It's the tears that reach your eyes as you take your final bow. It's putting away your costumes. It's returning your scripts, and saying goodbye to your characters. It's striking the set and watching the world you've lived in for the past few months slowly disappear. It's returning home each night to eat hot meals with your family instead of packed lunches with your cast mates. It's looking around at the empty theater and feeling the ghosts of every character that once crossed the stage before you. It's all of the laughs, all of the tears, all of the memories made and time spent working together with your theater family to create something that brought so many people joy, and watching it all come to an end in just a matter of days.
Theater is about so much more than footsteps on a stage, lines in a script, or labels on a lighting board. Theater is about temporarily becoming someone else, just to end up finding yourself along the way. It's about finding a bond with a group of people that you will never be able to find anywhere else.
Audiences may see the final production and think they've seen it all, but the events that take place before the curtain rises and the doors open on opening night are what the magic of theater is really all about.
You can take yourself out of the theater, but no one can ever take the theater out of you. Once a theater kid, always a theater kid.
