The last piece of sound hangs in the house above all of the people. Then, almost like clockwork, the people erupt.
The loud applause of the people fills the room after the extravagant finale number that the actors and actresses just performed. Although the outcome of the performance is extremely rewarding, the most important part of a show if the journey it takes to get there.
I approach the door. It is the only thing standing between me and the three directors that I cannot wait to meet. Behind the mask of excitement, however, in the pit of my stomach, are the nerves that I cannot subdue. They flow through my veins like an electric current, but I have to keep a calm persona in order to stay focused and prepared for my audition. The numbers of the auditioners count up to the number I've been long awaiting, number 467. When the voice calls my number, the nerves skyrocket and I wish that I could turn and run right out the front door. When the day finally comes, after the cast list is released, and the first rehearsal is to begin, my excitement boils over. I love seeing my friends from prior shows and making new ones.
One of my favorite people to see is the director. The director, Julie, is an inspiration to so many performers. She wears Lularoe leggings and a long colorful shirt. Her short blonde hair bounced as she walks briskly from stage left to stage right. Her bubbling personality is almost contagious. She is always thinking and admiring. Knowing exactly what she wants, she directs the show always focusing on specifics and minor details. She's the director that produces the best shows in the area. The Croswell is her home and she opens her arms wide to include as many people as she could to share her home with.
During the rehearsals, the choreographer plays the music and it rings throughout the theater. She counts ¨5-6-7-8¨ and everyone begins moving in unison. The harmonies of the performers are mixing together executing each and every note, that was learned in prior rehearsals, perfectly. Our feet brush and scuff against the floor in perfect rhythm. The ponytail in my hair does jumping jacks while it swings back and forth. As the music builds, we begin to dance faster and with more intricate moves until suddenly, all is quiet. The only noises are the heavy breathing behind all of our smiles and the choreographer's dainty hands clapping in excitement at our execution of the dance. As rehearsals continue, we become closer and closer to opening night, and then finally, it arrives.
When I open the stage door, I am hit with a draft of last-minute preparation and excitement. The cast moves swiftly through the corridors of backstage making sure everything is in a place like little mice looking for cheese. I can hear the violins and the rest of the orchestra in the pit warming up. The audience begins to rush in and I peek through the curtain at the house of the theater filling with people. Conversations of old and new friends ring through the audience as everyone anxiously waits for the show to begin. The stage creaks as the cast members walk back and forth behind the curtain releasing their nerves. You can hear the stage tell its stories of hundreds of years ago in every creaking step. As I think about the past performers that have taken to this stage, I am comforted.
Most would be nervous before going on stage to perform in front of a full house for a regional theater production. I, however, find myself comforted. I am radiating excitement and I spread it like wildfire throughout the cast. We all warm up our voices and muscles to be able to execute our songs and dances with ease. I begin to bring myself into character by putting myself in the mindset and time period of the show. I rehearse everything we ever learned in my head in fear of messing something up on stage. When the violins and string instruments begin to hum the single note and the lights in the house begin to dim, I find myself oozing with pride over the show we are about to put on. My feet make tiny movements on the ground running through my first dance in my head and my voice hums quietly preparing my notes and lyrics.
At the end of the show, I reflect. I am greeted with familiar faces of friends and family that came to see me in the show. I think about some of the compliments I receive. I realize that others do not have the satisfaction or the thrill of being comforted outside of their comfort zone. The comfort that I carry comes from a place of uneasiness and unknowing.