Wipe Your Feet at the Theatre Door

The Casa Grande Drama Department regards their theatre with incredible adoration. Although it is merely the NMU to the rest of the school, Casa Grande Drama appreciates the carefully structured building that serves as the inner sanctum of these students’ passions. The tiled floor, though incredibly dusty, is familiar and loved. The arch of the stage proscenium, though much too short for some stage productions, is familiar and loved. The sound booth, though located all the way in the back of the theatre, is familiar and loved. Each structure that makes up this miniscule theatre adds to the creation of a home for these actors. There is nothing significant about this theatre. Nothing significant except the talent it endures, the memories, the games, and the laughter. Each step taken within these walls echoes the sounds of happiness.
During rehearsals, backstage is sometimes crazier than out in the house (the giant section in which the audience sits during a production). Voices and whispered jokes linger in the air, barely audible to even those saying them, much less the director seated in front of the stage. But slowly, the whispers become louder until footsteps are heard clomping up the ramp; the actors disperse from one another. “Who’s talking back here?” yells the co-director. All the actors look in different directions and hope they don’t look suspicious. Grumbles are heard as he stomps off back into the house. Exhales escape from all the actors who feared a scolding. Despite being chided, no one takes it personally, and the smiles never leave their eyes.
The curtain jingles a little the way it always does when someone moves it aside; the metal chain at the top hits itself, sounding like little bells. Actors come running offstage, beads of moisture glitter their foreheads. Frequent, shallow breaths are heard. A bump comes from inside the dressing room, located just off the stage-left wing. No doubt, someone is inside, searching for props or trying on costumes, making sure everything is fit to go. The creak of the wooden platform- audible because of the actors moving around them onstage- is a greeting, daring all out of their stage fright. And the gentle thrumming of the music playing can be heard simultaneously from the sound booth, its halcyon lullaby soothing. Tip-toes that still manage to make a soft pitter-pat on the concrete creep by, pacing as they refine their memorization of the small crowded space.
I myself can remember the first day backstage inside this building. There was so much to take in and I began soaking up my surroundings like a sponge, drinking in everything. There wasn’t much light in the wings on either side of the stage. Most light came from the shop that joins the two sides. It cast eerie shadows as few light seeps out, dark but assuring; as if the black cloak of the building was wrapped around me, holding me tight in its warm grasp. A long bookshelf stood, sagging like an old man with too much to carry. Personal belongings littered the shelves along with forgotten props that no one could find a place for. Multiple handshakes and lucky dances were performed for “good luck” as performers prepared themselves for their cues to enter. Many sat alone, their faces twisted into different masks of emotion as they said their lines in their heads. I couldn’t imagine a place better than this. And it was so new to me I couldn’t figure out why I was so drawn. But now I know. The sights viewed backstage are not typical for outside the theatre. The actors work hard, and sometimes it’s a lot of waiting around and doing scenes over and over. It’s emotionally draining, yet everyone who cares to do the work loves it enough to stick with it. They’re motivated in ways other people are not. Actors feel the pull to do great things, including myself, and I knew as I sat within those walls, the long hours and hard work it would cost me could bring me to my goals.
There’s other things that made the outside world differ from the world of the theatre. The movements are usually more eccentric, maybe a little more dynamic and intentional. Smiles are commonly seen through the dark shadows. Friendly hugs, excited hugs, nervous hugs, awkward hugs, and congratulatory hugs- hugs are very common. However, there are no selfish hugs and no bickering. But perhaps, the most significant piece of this building is the door. The door- standard, solid, green- is decorated with ideas. Ideas of optimism, and courage, and confidence.. There’s a term used for actors in the theatre called “mentally wiping your feet at the door”. This means that when they walk through that door, all the hatred and turmoil of the outside world is left at the doorstep, and only a pure, motivated mind is allowed inside that threshold. From what I gather, the trick works pretty well.
The unique shards of this building that give it character, such as the perfectly warm temperature, and the aroma of powders and stage-creams that fill the air, help convey an atmosphere very different from the outside world. This building is unchanging. It remains stagnant and familiar as the world continues to shift outside its walls. It brings a sense of solitude and confidence that at least control is possible in one aspect of life. The chaos that occurs both onstage and off is nothing but a flurry of excitement and energy. It’s fun in a way the rest of the world has forgotten how to be. As Stella Adler said, “The theatre was created to tell people the truth about life and the social situation,” : in being within the Casa Grande Theatre, I feel like I’m starting to figure it out.

BRENNA