Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Drink your juice, Shelby



Well, it finally happened to me here at the Walnut. I had to stop a show. Of course shows have stopped here before, but this was my first time being at the helm.

Don't get me wrong, it's happened to me lots before in other theaters. Power outtages, actors being stupid (I'll tell that story sometime), weather emergencies, heart attacks, poop accidents. I've stopped shows for all of these things. Okay, we didn't stop for the poop accidents. But I wish we had...

Last night's show was trucking along like usual-- we made it through the Potato Famine section and were heading to the Great Migration. Jon and Phoebe began their beautiful, quiet Anchor's Aweigh. There was a minor commotion in the southeast corner of the theater, which drew my attention a bit, but I figured it must be some old person getting up to go to the bathroom. The commotion continued, and the actors started to glance that way. Then a whole group of audience members stood up and started waving their programs frantically. My first thought?

"Oh, god, there's a mouse in the audience".

I yelled for Nicole, our house manager, and at that moment someone (an audience member? An actor? I'm getting conflicting reports) said "We have to stop the show!" I threw open the booth window and heard that a lady had passed out and could not be revived. I told Nicole to call 911, and brought up the house lights.

The audience mobilized as one-- it was lovely. In the time that I jumped out of the booth and came into the theater, they had moved the first row of seating away from the lady and had helped to lay her down across the second row of seating. Angela was quickly there with water and an ammonia tablet, which sadly she never got to use. The actors were milling about, concerned and confused, so I sent them backstage. The paramedics arrived quite quickly-- by this time, the woman was concious and talking. They asked her a few questions and then loaded her on the elevator and presumably to the hospital. The audience applauded her and shouted well-wishes as she was being wheeled out.

Apparently she was a diabetic who hadn't eaten since that morning and didn't have her medicine on her. Jeez, lady-- what did you think was gonna happen??

I made an announcement to the audience that we would start again from the top of Anchor's Aweigh and that we were about 10 minutes from intermission. Once I'd climbed back into my booth I gave Angela the cue to send them on and I restored the lights to the correct cue. The actors entered to hearty applause and after a few wise cracks from the always-inappropriate Jon Shade, Sarah gave them the chord to start. Phoebe shook off some giggles and we were off again. The show's energy was completely different-- the adrenaline was still pumping through everyone's veins!

It's a weird, wild thing to have something go wrong during a live performance, but I think that's why people still come to see theater. It's why I love it-- the thrill of the unexpected, the miracle of all of these elements coming together every night to engage and enthrall.

But this time there was only adrenaline for me: no fear, no doubt. I must be getting old when this sort of thing doesn't so much phase me as spur me into action.

It was still an exciting night to be working in theater, though.

Oh, yeah, and on a somewhat unrelated note, check out our (unintentionally) hilarious review here. Thanks, Toby!!!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...
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Anonymous said...

I was invigorated reading this. It's why we do our job, right?