Let me start off by stating the obvious: theater isn’t easy. There isn’t a single stage production in existence that was created on a whim. Nobody decides on Tuesday they are going to have a show on Saturday. Every single aspect of what appears on stage and what happens backstage is meticulously thought out.
Apart from the cast, there is also a creative team, an orchestra, a crew who manages sound, lights and overall appearance, as well as so many more contributors, all working tirelessly to make a show. There are builders in charge of the hardware of the set, prop designers in charge of the props and runners in charge of getting these props on and off stage. There are people in charge of makeup and people in charge of pressing the button to send the curtain in at the finale. Set changes are practiced countless times to the point that even something as small as putting a table on stage can be done seamlessly. Equipment is tested endlessly. And don’t even get me started on the rehearsal processes of the performers.
This is the tale of all productions. In professional shows, on or off-Broadway, there is a surplus of people being paid to do these things. But how do student productions manage with a fraction of the resources?
The answer is simply passion.
I will let you in on a little secret: when I’m not writing to you or cramming for whatever exam, I’m working at Boston University’s Tsai Performance Center as a production assistant. This past week I was lucky enough to sit in the sound booth at the theater and be paid to watch BU On Broadway’s rendition of the sultry musical “Cabaret.” I was on headset the entire time, listening to all of the communications going back and forth between the stage manager, backstage left and right managers, head of props, music directors and lighting designers, all while perched with a bird’s eye view of the fabulous show.
Now let me tell you, what my eyes observed was fantastic. My ears, however, were experiencing an entirely different show. Everyone involved with the performing arts, myself included, understands what goes into a show. However, seeing what the audience sees while simultaneously hearing the scramble of the backstage world was truly an eye-opening experience. Student theater is hard.
BU On Broadway was not afforded the luxuries of a professional landscape. Instead they had to work with what they were given: dodgy mics and some inexperienced, volunteer crew members. Charismatic Syd Romo, playing the part of Emcee, couldn’t have said it any better: “Honestly, technical difficulties are all part of the experience of theater — whether it’s student, community or professional, you just gotta keep rolling with the punches.” Reflecting on how his mic was working on and off the entirety of the show, he said, “I’m very much of the mindset ‘Hope for the best, prepare for the worst,’ especially when it comes to mics.” From what I could hear on headset, the response was calm, collected and lighting-fast.
A huge part of student theater production is actually expecting things to go wrong. In the already sensitive and precarious setting of live performance, it is certainly commendable that student productions function so well, considering how much more their limitations give them to worry about.
With an insufficient budget and a group of students majoring in everything from film and television to computer science working tirelessly without pay, putting on a show like “Cabaret” seems like an absolute miracle. However, it is absolutely not.
“We aren’t paid, we don’t get class credit, and we don’t get special recognition. We do this for passion, and love, alone,” wrote Franco Camborda in his Director’s Note. It is crystal clear that this passion, love, and dedication was the glue — Gorilla Glue at that — which held it all together and produced the magic of “Cabaret.”
I could not be more dazzled by BU On Broadway’s “Cabaret.” Their unfortunate technical hiccups were kept behind the scenes where they belonged. What was left was a sensuous, steamy and downright sexy performance, outlined by an imperative message of a doomed romance amidst the Kit Kat Club, a dark metaphor for the political developments in Nazi Germany. Consider this your special recognition.
