Some thoughts on theater

Poster art for the Richmond Triangle Players production of "Comfort and Joy"

One of the things I enjoyed most about my job at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts was working with the Virginia Museum Theater.

When I was a kid, I used to enjoy theater from an acting perspective. Looking for a means of breaking free and expressing myself, I wanted to perform. In junior high, I declaimed Patrick Henry's famous speech at the Mosque as part of the city school system's celebration of something or the other, and in high school I played the sycophantic Mr. Collins in "Pride and Prejudice," our senior play. I played a few roles in Dogwood Dell productions and was cast in minor parts in three VMT productions when the theater was still all-volunteer.

By the time I went to work at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts many years later, I was much more interested in the process of the theater -- how it worked, what worked and why it worked. I was assigned to handle public relations, and the managing director of the theater company was kind enough to keep me involved in every production from the planning stages through opening night.

Thus, I learned what the audience doesn't see and isn't meant to see: the nuts and bolts of mounting a theatrical production -- everything from acquiring the rights to a script, casting, rehearsals, and artistic temperaments to opening nights and the next day's newspaper reviews. The costume designers, the prop masters, the carpenters and the box-office people were all my friends. They recognized a genuine interest, and they took valuable time to explain how they did what they did and how to make illusion look real.

Today I have no connection to a theater, either on- or off-stage, but I still believe there's something unique about live theater that no other form of entertainment can supply. I saw a production with my niece Terry this week of "Comfort and Joy" by the Richmond Triangle Players. It was funny and touching and thoroughly entertaining. I've seen a half-dozen shows at as many theaters this year, and each one entertained me, made me think, and provided some insight into my life or the lives of others.

A good movie or a good television show can provide much the same thing, but with one important difference. There's always, inevitably, an element of risk in live theater -- simply because it's live. If you're willing to suspend disbelief, you can get swept up in the thrill of seeing real people tell a riveting story right in front of you. The show you're seeing might have been performed by the same cast 25 times already, but it's still live, and the actors -- and in some ways, the audience -- are taking a risk. Will it work this time? Hopes are always high on both sides of the footlights.

And risks often bring rewards.

The word drama is from the Greek for action, which is, in turn, derived from the Greek verb to do. When cast and audience are totally in sync, the risks that are taken on stage leave the audience with a greater understanding of other perspectives, other ways of seeing themselves, and other methods, to refer back to the Greek, of making and doing.

By any light, especially a spotlight, that's altogether a good thing.