with a hoot and a holler and a dime and a dollar it's the life of an actor for me
Back in 1983, I was hired for the season at the prestigious Shaw Festival in Niagara-on-the-lake. “As Cast”. This means they can stick you anywhere in any play to do any number of things, mostly standing around in the background looking suitably interested in the goings-on. The season ran from March through the end of October and I was very pleased with myself for having gotten in. I was just starting my career as an actor and I knew that a season at the Shaw was quite the feather in my cap. We weren't paid much, the “As Cast” group, and from that meager salary we had to pay for room and board, though to be fair the rents collected did not amount to much. Overall it was an exhilarating experience, surrounded by like-minded young actors and veterans who had been with the company for years. “Ceasar and Cleopatra” was one of the two big productions being mounted that year, along with “Cyrano de Bergerac”, and happily I was cast in both. The main stage at the Shaw is the Festival Theater which seats 850, by far and away the largest stage that I would trod in my career. Performing in front of an audience is a privilege and should never be taken lightly, but.
Doing the same two shows week after week can get tedious, especially if you don’t have much to do with the overall tenor of the performance. We had the great Douglas Rain playing Ceasar, never said a word to him during the entire run, he was very measured and focused in his performance, but. During an especially long scene a few of us “As Cast” were stationed upstage looking off to the wings, our backs to the audience. We were Roman soldiers guarding the great Ceasar. Four of us “extras” looking upstage, where invariably on most nights other members of the company would station themselves in our line of sight but unseen from the audience and do their own performance, mostly flashing their breasts or genitalia, mock sexual acts, that kind of stuff. We had to stand at attention with our backs to the audience and maintain composure. Not an easy task and we failed a lot of nights. Four tough battle-hardened Roman soldiers, their shoulders, nay their entire bodies belying the fact that we were “corpsing”, or breaking character. Mister Rain was not amused and his complaints put an end to most of the tomfoolery.
The other big show I was in, as mentioned was “Cyrano de Bergerac”, directed by Derek Goldby and starring Heath Lamberts as Cyrano. it was a sprawling colorful production, sword fights and battle scenes set against a touching love story. I played a couple of parts in the show and thus had a costume and makeup change. Dress rehearsal, with the photographer in the audience roaming about as they sought to memorialize the production, getting publicity shots. It was one of the first dress rehearsals we had and I was still getting used to the workings of BIG theatre. I came offstage after the opening scene, knowing I had quite a bit of time before I had to go on again. Switching characters, from a happy onlooker to one of the Gascony cadets, the small company of soldiers that Cyrano joins. I was sitting in the dressing room, large enough to accommodate about fifteen of us actors, comtemplating my makeup, and what I should do to alter my appearance. I was helped by a wonderful woman from the wigs department and we discussed different techniques of shading and color to best achieve the look I was going for. We sat, completely engrossed in the task at hand blissfully unaware that there was a play going on, and that I was in it, in fact I was expected to make an entrance in about twenty seconds. I suddenly became aware of the tannoy, the speaker system used by theatres to broadcast the goings-on onstage, to the folks backstage. I am in deep shit, my makeup is all askew, I am in the wrong costume and I am supposed to be onstage, now. Run to the nearest point of entry to the stage, not where I am supposed to enter from, clod my way to my given position on stage, well aware of the other actors staring, staring at my ungainly entrance and costume that is half off, having attempted an aborted costume change. Just go with it, nothing to be done but get through the rest of the rehearsal, which we did.
After the rehearsal a few of my compatriots were kind and gentle, things happen they said, put it behind you. But. Most were not, ugly looks, unkind words, one actor came into the dressing room to announce that our golf game scheduled for tomorrow was off, not just for tomorrow but for the entire rest of the season. Heath Lamberts, the star of the show came in to lecture me about professionalism, a lecture delivered at very high volume and with a lot of words not usually reserved for a lecture. I sat at my little makeup desk, the lights displayed around the mirror frame as the dressing room emptied. I had not moved, was still half in costume, someone shut off the overhead lights in the room. I was feeling pretty bad, like I had let everyone down, contemplating my short stay at the prestigious Shaw Festival. The stage manager came in, Derek Goldby, the director would like to see me. To be expected to be sure. I was to present myself center stage to be reprimanded. I got up and made my way to the wings, thinking I could just bypass this entire situation by catching a bus back to Montreal, never set foot on the stage again, change careers, become a letter carrier. I walked out to the middle of the stage, alone in the spotlight, my costume still hanging off me. I raised my head, to see not only Derek Goldby but the entire company seated in the audience. This feeling of being alone in a crowd overwhelmed me, I was very near tears as this bellicose brit tore me to shreds, in front of the entire company. His show, his reputation were at risk because of me and if he had his way I would be gone. There is no lonelier place in this world than center stage with you in the spotlight.
