Backstage

The Play’s the Thing (or things)
Hamlet is the Prince of Denmark. Sweeny Todd is the Demon Barber of Fleet Street. Oklahoma takes place in … well, Oklahoma. A sense of place is critical in theatre. This is one of those intangible tangibles that, as an audience member, you don’t necessarily register consciously, but I am convinced touches your senses on some level.
It sounds obvious, maybe a little condescending, but it is an aspect that sometimes gets neglected. Something you know needs attention yet often ends up an afterthought, or a no thought at all. Sort of like Jan Brady.
Establishing a sense of place is relatively easy with plays like The Merchant of Venice, a little more challenging with Death of a Salesman and downright perplexing for Waiting for Godot.  “There’s no lack of void,” says Estragon. Yeah, thanks a lot Sam.
But the more specific one can be in his or her mind’s eye, the more believable the actions and the more the audience will feel rooted to a reality. Not necessary a real reality, but a reality specific to the world of the play. An emotional reality of context, if you will. And yes, you may use that for your graduate thesis title.
And you don’t need expensive, intricate sets to pull this off. On the contrary, some stages that are empty, save for a few black boxes, are filled with an extraordinary sense of place, while others, abundant with detailed stage craftiness, can be pretty yet vacuous. In theatre, simple is good, and it can be transcendent.
Several current productions around the county offer wonderful sense of place opportunities. There’s Brigadoon at Spreckels, in which the title refers to a mysterious Scottish village that appears for only one day every hundred years. As you would surmise, the location is quite critical here.
Kim Taylor of Speckels shared with me that Pamela Enz, Brigadoon’s costume designer, was in Scotland this past summer and brought back with her authentic tartan kilts, hats, scarves and sporrans to be used in the production. The romantic in me believes that these details will resonate with the audience on some level. I don’t envision anyone saying, “Wow, are those real Scottish kilts? I like the play much better now!” But your subconscious will know.  What I find most relevant is the fact that Pamela brings a little of her own connection to these items, infusing them with her interpretation of this sense of an imaginary place. The human connection, in short.
Shameless self-promotion alert: The play in which I am currently acting, Terra Nova, concerns Robert Falcon Scott’s ill-fated 1911 South Pole expedition. As you can imagine, it’s somewhat important the production evokes a sense of that extraordinary, unforgiving landscape. I speak not of setting the air conditioning to minus 65° or hiring trained penguins as ushers. Although they dress well, they are surly to humans, and they live on the coastal fringes of Antarctica, not the South Pole. But it is critical that each of us in the cast has a clear mental picture of where we are at every moment onstage. If we can see, and feel, the endless miles of brutal windswept whiteness, you will, too.
In another sense, a sense of place is important before one even sees the stage. The Pegasus in Rio Nido has a new sense of place. The renovated former banquet hall of the Rio Nido Lodge now serves as its lobby. That’s a case of the space before the space giving you a welcoming sense of place. Sounds like a Danny Kaye routine, doesn’t it?
It is the theatre artist’s wonderful duty to create a world for you that exists only in that space, only in that time, and then disappears. Sort of like Brigadoon itself.
Next time you attend a play, reflect on whether you experience the world the company created. If you can, even for a fleeting moment, then you’re in a good place.
Brigadoon plays October 11-27, Spreckels Performing Arts Center, www.spreckelsonline.com
Terra Nova plays October 18-27, Cloverdale Performing Arts Center www.cloverdaleperformingarts.com.