As my darling Gram Ethyle so wisely says, life is a series of trade-offs. For example, if you’re lucky enough to have a place to stay in a city like New York, it can be somewhat justifiable to take on an unpaid internship. Going one step further than that, you may be technically working and being unpaid long enough to be considered slave labor by the US government, but doing so can often provide incredible opportunities, amazing connections, and at times mind blowing experiences. I was lucky enough to have one of such awe-inspiring encounters with life two nights ago.
Now, I don’t want to sound obnoxious, but I feel like I really lucked out with my boss at my theater internship. As a way to say thank you for spending hours filing paper work and filling out the employer ends of W-4’s (woo-hoo for doing adult-y things!), she somehow manages to get me in to see incredible Broadway shows. On Friday night, she was kind enough to take me along to see a dear friend of hers who was playing the severe ballet teacher Madame Giry in the Broadway production of The Phantom of the Opera. I didn’t technically have a ticket and ended up sitting on a fold up chair at the very end of a row so that I could only see about two-thirds of the stage, but hey! It was a free chance to see Broadway’s longest running musical--how could I refuse?
The show was fantastic, and the Majestic Theater lived up to its name; it was painfully beautiful. After the show was over, we waited by the stage door to see my boss’s friend Marilyn. In Phantom, Marilyn’s role as Madame Giry was ominous and intimidating. From her severe raven wig to her conservative black dress and large cain, she appeared as a force to be reckoned with. You can imagine my surprise when the stage door finally opened, bringing forth a gorgeous and slight woman, complete with a bright smile, short strawberry-blonde curly locks, and a cheerful sunhat--everything that her character was not.
She offered to show us around the theater, and I actually thought for a brief moment that I was either going to vomit or pee in my pants from sheer excitement. (I feel like at this point it’s important to note that I’ve been infected by the theater-bug since I started taking acting classes in elementary school, and have been an incredible theater nerd ever since.)
Our first stop was the stage, where I was left to look out at the eerily ornate and infamous 2,000 pound chandelier that is known for breaking during the show (super-duper-crazy-cool, by the way). Sixteen hundred empty seats blankly stared back at me, and I resisted the strong urge to start leaping and bounding across the stage like a fool. Marilyn told us that there were something like 140 trap doors on the stage floor, which was mind blowing to me. We then went backstage down a series of narrow stairs and entered the one of the costume/quick change rooms.
Bright extravagant outfits bedecked small hangers that were bending under the weight of their burdens. The room’s small size was intensified by the rich colors and gaudy designs. The second costume room we went in was about twice the size, and Marilyn told us that it could have up to thirty people changing in it at the same time. She let me pick up the iconic wedding dress that the protagonist Christine wears in the final scenes, and I almost crumpled under its weight. At the very least, it was probably fifty pounds.
Before leaving, we weaved through the underbelly of the stage, complete with narrow ramps, extensive candelabras, and a few pole-vaulting mattresses that one of the actor’s uses when he falls through the stage and into the “river” in the show.
For all of the grandeur of the events that blossom on stage, it was interesting to see how the bowels of the gutted depths of this theater were quite normal, despite its infamy. Paint was chipping, spaces were crammed, walls were decorated with pictures, and one chair was even decked out in The Little Mermaid garb, as a prank pulled on one of the security guards. Even in the face of extreme magnificence and spectacle, there are always shards of truth peeping out from behind the curtains. Put another way, nothing is as good as it seems at first glance, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t beauty in the reality of the situation, either. It reminded me of the hard work that goes into everything, and gave me a greater appreciation for the ancient craft that is theater.
As we exited the theater, Marilyn gave me a hug as she and my boss parted ways from me. I floated down 42nd street, in a star-struck haze that involved a Broadway star and a haunting soundtrack. I was so happy that I wasn’t even bothered by the homeless, shirtless, singing man with Pippy Longstocking white braids and doped out eyes who began swaying towards me proclaiming that he truly was our Lord and savior Jesus Christ. Instead of freaking out, I just mentally pirouetted around all of the crazies and went on my merry way back home. La-de-freakin’-dah!
So yes, sometimes certain situations have aspects that are less than ideal. But if you try hard enough--or are sometimes just lucky enough--to recognize the good in the bad, boring, or neutral, I’ve noticed that you will find a silver lining in almost any situation.
No comments:
Post a Comment