An Actor’s Life For Me

There’s an old joke among old actors. It goes something like this: A man goes to the dentist. The dentist asks what the man does for a living; he replies, “I’m an actor.” The dentist says, “Really? I did some acting in high school.” To which the actor replies, “Really? I did some orthodontic surgery in high school.
Seems like everyone has acted at some point in his/her life, whether it be a tomato in the 2nd grade food pyramid skit or playing the title role in your high school production of “Zorba the Greek.” But sometimes I forget that not everybody knows what actors do. In fact, people usually ask me one of two things after seeing a show:
Q: How long did you rehearse? A: Probably not long enough.
Q. How did you remember all those lines? A: I didn’t, I made most of them up. Thank God the playwright isn’t here.
So I thought I would take you ‘backstage’ (see what I did there?) and crack the door open a sliver on what we do.
Typically in community theatre, we rehearse three to four hours, four or five nights/days a week for six to eight weeks, depending on the director, putting in 100-plus hours for each production.
The rehearsal process is for learning lines, orchestrating where one goes on stage, delving into the character relationships, asking as many questions as possible and even answering a few along the way. It’s a time for exploration, experimentation, a raft of dumb ideas and crazy choices that eventually give way to the shape of the play revealing itself. Or not.
On performance nights or days: The crew (stage manager, light and sound operators, wardrobe, etc.) arrive at the theatre two hours or so before curtain. They review all the light and sound cues, set the props, sweep the stage, and make sure the costumes are clean and on their proper racks. Box office and front-of-house people show up around the same time.
The actors arrive 90 minutes to an hour before curtain. We ‘walk the stage’ and warm up psychically and vocally. Often actors run a scene or two to connect with each other. We are putting on our makeup and costumes while you are enjoying a pre-show glass of Zin.
Then, a couple minutes before curtain time, the stage manager calls, ‘places,’ and we head backstage. In many ways it’s my favorite time, as we stand in the wings while the preshow music plays and the announcement comes on asking the audience to: turn off phones, don’t take pictures, and drink the sponsor’s wine at intermission.
House lights go down, stage lights go up and, for a brief moment, literally anything is possible.
The journey through the play, different each performance, begins. Tonight’s audience may laugh at jokes last night’s
didn’t. They may not react at a dramatic moment the way last Sunday’s crowd did. You blow a line you have never forgotten, even in rehearsals. You beat yourself up (It’s a great line, how did I drop it ?!?) but, like a relief pitcher that just gave up a game-tying homer in the 9th, you have to forget it and move forward. Because good acting is moment to moment and the more you think ahead (or behind) the less connected you will be.
As the play progresses, the audience takes on a collective personality and the silences undertake tangible meaning. There is a difference between restless, bored quiet and attentive, breath-holding quiet. You can feel it. The audience can feel it. And, best of all, you all feel it together.
After a couple hours, the lights go down, the play is over and it’s curtain-call time. That quaint tradition that allows us to take a bow for our work. I suppose to carry my earlier dentist analogy further, we should bring out our hygenists and dentists for a brief bow at the end of our cleanings.
Then we actors retreat to the dressing room, remove costumes and makeup, go out front to greet friends and family, maybe enjoy a drink, head home, go to bed, get up the next day, go to our respective day jobs, and count the hours until we get to do it all over again. The words will be the same (hopefully), the cast and crew unchanged, but the experience altogether new, different and unpredictable.
Just the way we like it.
Steven David Martin of Healdsburg enjoyed a long, successful theatrical career, acting in and directing productions across the country and overseas. He also taught at the JC and university levels before embracing his writing passion. Martin works extensively with the Raven Theater and Cloverdale Performing Arts Center. His day job is Creative Practitioner at Firefly Creative Company.