Black Out Theatre Analysis

Blackout. The murmur of nervous voices, the humming of the orchestra’s fine tuning, the crackle of the clear COM, I signal to the operator on my right; I close my eyes and begin to count. 3,2, 1, I open my eyes. Lights Up! Go!

No bones about it: calling a show is a satisfying and adrenaline filled experience. It’s a humongous challenge, and I love rising to it. Most people don’t know what a stage manager is, but if you’ve ever been to the theatre I bet you have felt our presence. As a stage manager, I am the liaison between the front of house, the actors, and the technical crew. I say: lights up, stand by, break a leg, open house, and take five. I adapt quickly as I switch from calling cues, to fixing props, and mending torn costumes. I’m forced to think on my feet: making safety pins out of hair clips, and an iron

I received this “honor” only after discovering I didn’t make the cast for the show. Although I felt a bit defeated, I decided to enter this new position with as much positivity as possible. The first day of rehearsal I walked into our performing arts center not sure what exactly I had gotten myself into. Two hours later I had become best friends with the copy machine and had enough paper cuts to last me a lifetime. I was exhausted and felt that had accomplished almost nothing. I left school that day knowing only one thing; I hate being a stage manager. Over the course of two and a half months my hatred quickly turned into love, and eventually into a passion. Though the job featured a lot of paperwork, it also featured the excitement of opening nights, calling shows, problem-solving, and becoming a leader. Throughout the process of the show, I started to gain more and more responsibility, my peers and even the upperclassmen were looking at me to be a leader. I was terrified to carry so much weight on my shoulder, but I was also excited for the chance to prove that I