Twenty-two years ago, I first walked onto the backstage of a theater. I was there to drop off my then 7-year-old daughter for dress rehearsal. Her first performance. A summer recital. In a real theater.
It was dark backstage. And dusty. The air was a miasma of sweat and hairspray. Those smells and that dust drifted into my brain and my heart like a drug. A very addictive drug. I inhaled. I’ve been hooked since that very first day. That December, my daughter danced in her first Nutcracker. She was a clown. (That reminds me of a line from “Love, Actually” – “I didn’t know there were lobsters at the first Christmas.”) My husband and I worked as part of the backstage crew. We still do. We’ll never stop. Not until our bodies are too decrepit or the director bars the door when she sees us shuffling up the sidewalk with our walkers. The minute I hear the first strains of Tchaikovsky’s overture, I am swept into the vortex of the magic of the Nutcracker. I love the dancing and the performance on stage. We perform a completely different dance backstage. One with precise choreography and training, but out of necessity, allowing much more improvisation. I love that one, too. These images float in and out of my psyche. With apologies for the raw verse: Ropes, weights, lights, drops, sets, props Marley stomps Gingerbread house Cute little mouse Listen to the music cues Make sure you check their shoes Can’t have any laces showing Dancers on adrenaline With butterflies in stomachs Stretch and twist to loosen limbs Check the pointe shows once again Adjust the costume, pat the hair Breathe in and out, remember how Wait In the wings, cue says “go now” Dressed in black from head to toe Crew performs its silent show With flashlights, glue guns, drills, and motors See everything, hear everything, in the know Always be a step ahead We’re ready with a light when needed Or a prop forgotten Handle backstage crowd control Make sure the stage is set Collect guns and swords as they come off Remember to keep track of props Possessed candles blink on and off at will Drumsticks disappear at every single show How we do it, I’ll never know Backstage, dancers hurry Running across in the dark They don’t collide They have bat senses Or quick reflexes I don’t know which They’re dancers Excitement Exhaustion Too tired to talk Too tired to sleep By the end of the week Do I have to go to school? Do I have to go to work? Thank you, Ann, for the many years of joy. We’re not done.
Marc
12/14/2018 08:11:58 pm
I'm not a Nutcracker fan. I've promised myself to never watch from the audience again.
Betsy Thibault
12/15/2018 09:16:37 am
Wonderful. What great memories...
Julie
12/15/2018 09:40:08 pm
Delightful memories conveyed so poetically. Thank you for sharing this 22-year old tradition with us, Kathy. All of the Nuts are happy to have you!
Ann Derby
12/16/2018 09:34:22 pm
Kathy - what a very special blog. You and Marc are simply the best! You said this so beautifully!! Thank you! (And, as the years go on I'll join you with my walker). Comments are closed.
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