MY ESSAY
This is my essay for Hampshire. I'm not much of an essay writer, but if you are absolutely and fantastically bored and feel like ripping apart some work, then go right ahead and edit. :)
What comes to your mind when you think of theater? Do images of flashy divas in gaudy costumes appear? Or do you think of the mysterious stage crew hooked up with walkie-talkies and dressed in black clothing? Most people might recall a musical number from some of the great musicals that can be seen on a stage. Others might try to recite Shakespeare; “To be or not to be.”
Having been involved in many different school plays, I think of hazards. The theater is a dangerous place. Many don’t think that there is anything threatening in theater. Of course, they are wrong. Most of the accidents and little tragedies occur during rehearsals when the audience is not present.
Building the set for the performance always has its problems. Someone could be drilling a screw into a piece of wood, slip the drill, and half of that someone’s thumb could be gone. There would be blood everywhere. There are always stray screws, nails, or staples on the floor of the stage. Some unsuspecting student could stupidly be traipsing barefoot across the apron and press their foot down onto an upturned staple.
Bigger accidents can happen. While painting the walls for the set, the crew has to climb up the big scaffold with heavy buckets of paint and cumbersome paint brushes. Getting up the scaffold is not so hard, but actually having to swing yourself around the greasy yellow bars and place your feet between the rungs without falling or twisting something is harder than it looks. The scaffold is also used to fix stage lights; the unfortunate techie (tech crew member) that has to fix the lights must lie on their stomach as flat as the can on the very top level of the scaffold. Two or three other crew members below must guide the scaffold along the stage, being wary of any work being done the floor, and move carefully enough so as not to knock their high flying comrade’s head against the scalding hot lights.
Last but not least, there is the Genie. The Genie is big, weighty, flat ladder with wheels. In the middle of the flat ladder is a ladder that goes straight up at a 90 degree angle. This is used to fix any house lights close to the stage. The techie that climbs up the Genie must straddle the very top of the raised ladder and bend slightly to the back to fix any lights. There is nothing to hold on to as the Genie is wheeled from one end of the auditorium to the other. The techie must perch calmly at the top of the ladder and not move a muscle.
So far in the Middletown High School Theater, nothing too scary or perilous has happened with the exception of a few incidents resulting in nose bleeds here and there. Of course, there is a story that has been made legend amongst cast and crew alike. That legend is my legend and it involves a painful yet epic accident.
In my sophomore year at Middletown, a senior named Beth Staruk wanted to direct a play in the winter time. She didn’t like the long separation between the fall play and the spring musical. She wanted to put on a little show in January. For the show, she selected Clue. We used the script from the movie which was based on the Parker Brothers board game. She held auditions and I was cast as Professor Plum; this was due to the fact that not many males tried out and I play a convincing man.
We were all excited about Clue and the inside jokes we had in rehearsals made the show wonderful for us. I know it would have been better if we could have memorized all of our lines in time for opening night. It also would have been nice if the knife actually stayed duct taped to the cook’ back or if the candlestick would actually stay up on the door frame. I know I would have liked it if the front door actually stayed on its hinges. The costumes of all the male characters consisted of blazers, dark pants, and black converse sneakers. The female characters either had dresses that were too tight (Miss Scarlet) or ill fitting (Mrs. Peacock and Mrs. White).
Despite all of the things that were definitely going to go wrong, we silently piled up behind the wall at stage right. The curtain was pulled open and the stage lights went up. Our Yvette, the French maid, had trouble keeping a French accent and she would often slip into an English accent to imitate Wadsworth. The student playing Wadsworth was wearing shoes too large for his feet and he looked like a duck in a suit.
The first act went through roughly. There were pauses that “you could park limos in” according to our director. The knife fell off the cook’s back as we dropped her, ungracefully, onto the floor when we carried her to the study and found that Mr. Boddy was not there (that was supposed to happen). The candlestick didn’t fall off the door frame the one time we wanted it too and the front door was hanging by one hinge.
The second act is when the Legend came about. In the scene were the policeman explores the mansion, looking for anything fishy, I and Miss Scarlet were in the Lounge trying to make the dead motorist look dead drunk. I picked up the empty wine bottle in the motorist’s hand, and always trying to add to my character, I put the bottle up to my lips. I pretended to take a sip of the imaginary wine to look as though I was calming my nerves. Miss Scarlet, not realizing that I was standing over her head with a wine bottle at my mouth, abruptly stood straight up. She knocked her head against the bottom of the wine bottle. The lip of the bottle shot into my mouth and snicked my right lateral incisor.
Of course, I didn’t feel as though my tooth had been clipped; I felt as though it had been broken. The pain shot up through my gums and caused me to groan miserably as I collapsed against poor Miss Scarlet, who was now getting a headache.
“I’m bleeding! I’m bleeding!” I hissed. I pressed my index finger up to my injured mouth and withdrew it. I was bleeding, not abundantly but it was enough to for me to imagine a gaping black hole in the front of my mouth. I imagined myself becoming the school freak show; being asked by underclassmen to try and shoot juice out of the space. I envisioned my senior picture; my open smile showcasing the ridiculous gap in my teeth. I could sell it to the military. They could use it for torture at Guantanamo Bay.
Miss Scarlet shoved me off her as I turned to face the audience and the interrogating policeman. I spoke slowly, afraid blood might trickle out of my mouth. I waited until it was time to rush offstage for the next scene to uncover my mouth. As I dashed offstage in the dark, I grabbed a crew member and mumbled to him that I needed a paper towel.
The chipping of my tooth seems too silly to be considered a lesson to learn from, but this is what I got out of it. I am more attentive of my props. I try not to improvise at random parts of the play unless it is absolutely needed. I have learned the true meaning of “the show must go on.” I believe I enjoy theater even more than I did before the chipping of my tooth. I can now proudly say that I have experienced a distressing problem during a performance. I love that I can display to disbelievers of the legend that I, indeed, chipped my tooth. It has become my signature character feature (much to the displeasure of my parents) and it is the stub of many jokes amongst my friends.
I can't do endings to save my life.
What comes to your mind when you think of theater? Do images of flashy divas in gaudy costumes appear? Or do you think of the mysterious stage crew hooked up with walkie-talkies and dressed in black clothing? Most people might recall a musical number from some of the great musicals that can be seen on a stage. Others might try to recite Shakespeare; “To be or not to be.”
Having been involved in many different school plays, I think of hazards. The theater is a dangerous place. Many don’t think that there is anything threatening in theater. Of course, they are wrong. Most of the accidents and little tragedies occur during rehearsals when the audience is not present.
Building the set for the performance always has its problems. Someone could be drilling a screw into a piece of wood, slip the drill, and half of that someone’s thumb could be gone. There would be blood everywhere. There are always stray screws, nails, or staples on the floor of the stage. Some unsuspecting student could stupidly be traipsing barefoot across the apron and press their foot down onto an upturned staple.
Bigger accidents can happen. While painting the walls for the set, the crew has to climb up the big scaffold with heavy buckets of paint and cumbersome paint brushes. Getting up the scaffold is not so hard, but actually having to swing yourself around the greasy yellow bars and place your feet between the rungs without falling or twisting something is harder than it looks. The scaffold is also used to fix stage lights; the unfortunate techie (tech crew member) that has to fix the lights must lie on their stomach as flat as the can on the very top level of the scaffold. Two or three other crew members below must guide the scaffold along the stage, being wary of any work being done the floor, and move carefully enough so as not to knock their high flying comrade’s head against the scalding hot lights.
Last but not least, there is the Genie. The Genie is big, weighty, flat ladder with wheels. In the middle of the flat ladder is a ladder that goes straight up at a 90 degree angle. This is used to fix any house lights close to the stage. The techie that climbs up the Genie must straddle the very top of the raised ladder and bend slightly to the back to fix any lights. There is nothing to hold on to as the Genie is wheeled from one end of the auditorium to the other. The techie must perch calmly at the top of the ladder and not move a muscle.
So far in the Middletown High School Theater, nothing too scary or perilous has happened with the exception of a few incidents resulting in nose bleeds here and there. Of course, there is a story that has been made legend amongst cast and crew alike. That legend is my legend and it involves a painful yet epic accident.
In my sophomore year at Middletown, a senior named Beth Staruk wanted to direct a play in the winter time. She didn’t like the long separation between the fall play and the spring musical. She wanted to put on a little show in January. For the show, she selected Clue. We used the script from the movie which was based on the Parker Brothers board game. She held auditions and I was cast as Professor Plum; this was due to the fact that not many males tried out and I play a convincing man.
We were all excited about Clue and the inside jokes we had in rehearsals made the show wonderful for us. I know it would have been better if we could have memorized all of our lines in time for opening night. It also would have been nice if the knife actually stayed duct taped to the cook’ back or if the candlestick would actually stay up on the door frame. I know I would have liked it if the front door actually stayed on its hinges. The costumes of all the male characters consisted of blazers, dark pants, and black converse sneakers. The female characters either had dresses that were too tight (Miss Scarlet) or ill fitting (Mrs. Peacock and Mrs. White).
Despite all of the things that were definitely going to go wrong, we silently piled up behind the wall at stage right. The curtain was pulled open and the stage lights went up. Our Yvette, the French maid, had trouble keeping a French accent and she would often slip into an English accent to imitate Wadsworth. The student playing Wadsworth was wearing shoes too large for his feet and he looked like a duck in a suit.
The first act went through roughly. There were pauses that “you could park limos in” according to our director. The knife fell off the cook’s back as we dropped her, ungracefully, onto the floor when we carried her to the study and found that Mr. Boddy was not there (that was supposed to happen). The candlestick didn’t fall off the door frame the one time we wanted it too and the front door was hanging by one hinge.
The second act is when the Legend came about. In the scene were the policeman explores the mansion, looking for anything fishy, I and Miss Scarlet were in the Lounge trying to make the dead motorist look dead drunk. I picked up the empty wine bottle in the motorist’s hand, and always trying to add to my character, I put the bottle up to my lips. I pretended to take a sip of the imaginary wine to look as though I was calming my nerves. Miss Scarlet, not realizing that I was standing over her head with a wine bottle at my mouth, abruptly stood straight up. She knocked her head against the bottom of the wine bottle. The lip of the bottle shot into my mouth and snicked my right lateral incisor.
Of course, I didn’t feel as though my tooth had been clipped; I felt as though it had been broken. The pain shot up through my gums and caused me to groan miserably as I collapsed against poor Miss Scarlet, who was now getting a headache.
“I’m bleeding! I’m bleeding!” I hissed. I pressed my index finger up to my injured mouth and withdrew it. I was bleeding, not abundantly but it was enough to for me to imagine a gaping black hole in the front of my mouth. I imagined myself becoming the school freak show; being asked by underclassmen to try and shoot juice out of the space. I envisioned my senior picture; my open smile showcasing the ridiculous gap in my teeth. I could sell it to the military. They could use it for torture at Guantanamo Bay.
Miss Scarlet shoved me off her as I turned to face the audience and the interrogating policeman. I spoke slowly, afraid blood might trickle out of my mouth. I waited until it was time to rush offstage for the next scene to uncover my mouth. As I dashed offstage in the dark, I grabbed a crew member and mumbled to him that I needed a paper towel.
The chipping of my tooth seems too silly to be considered a lesson to learn from, but this is what I got out of it. I am more attentive of my props. I try not to improvise at random parts of the play unless it is absolutely needed. I have learned the true meaning of “the show must go on.” I believe I enjoy theater even more than I did before the chipping of my tooth. I can now proudly say that I have experienced a distressing problem during a performance. I love that I can display to disbelievers of the legend that I, indeed, chipped my tooth. It has become my signature character feature (much to the displeasure of my parents) and it is the stub of many jokes amongst my friends.
I can't do endings to save my life.