A Candle Lit

Mum and I were recently reminiscing about the first time she ever took me to a live performance. It was ‘Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story’ at Her Majesty’s Theatre in Sydney in the early 90s. I would have been 7 or 8. 

I don’t remember much about it - really just a feeling and glimpses of scenes, sets and sounds. 

But she remembers it well. She remembers my little face. A grin from ear to ear and belly laughter as the Big Bopper cried “Helloooo Baaaby!” 

She remembers the exact moment my whole world changed. 

A light switched on illuminating an enormous space. An endless space. A space where I could spread my arms out wide and spin in circles, unafraid to stumble from dizziness. 

It was exhilarating. 

It still is.

As a teacher, it both amazes and saddens me that many of my teenage students have never been to the theatre. Pondering this made me consider the various reasons why and the value that theatre truly holds for everyone.

My own children have been immersed in various forms of theatre since early childhood. I guess it’s second nature to them, having parents who both perform. My own mum was not a performer at all. But she did marry a man who loved to dabble in instruments and song and dance. The Irish in Dad ran strong. 

One thing mum was though was a passionate viewer. She taught me everything there was to know about old Hollywood and its glorious film stars. As a child, I lived and breathed Judy Garland and Doris Day, Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart. She taught me to watch closely. To see the choices. To listen to the dialogue. To feel the camera lens. 

So when I sat in that live theatre for the first time, I saw, I heard and I felt.

Cinema is powerful. Don’t get me wrong, I adore film and I still strongly believe viewing a film in a theatre along with others who are mutually feeling with you is a very profound experience. 

But knowing that the orchestra, the actors, the singers, the dancers and the crew were all working together in that very moment so that I, and hundreds of others, could see, hear and feel that lustrous glow of their story - that was edifying. 

I now know, however, that it would have cost my folks an absolute fortune to take my brother and I to the theatre in Sydney. 

Unfortunately, theatre is often for the elite. A gleam just out of reach for families who might have a little one like me - a performer anticipating that kindling moment. I know myself, I have had to wait until tickets come on sale and even then my kids have only ever sat with the Gods, noses almost bleeding. 

This is why community theatre is so valuable. A $20 ticket to a local pantomime could be all a child needs to awaken a passion for art, creativity and culture. And it is vital that we sustain it. Too often even community theatre is becoming unreachable for many, unassisted by expensive Council hire, greedy publishing houses, costly advertising on money grubbing radio stations and news venues that only want free tickets for reviews.

As a production manager, I know all too well how hard it can be to keep prices down to get bums on seats, particularly at the hands of those who could do more to help.

But the value of theatre? It’s priceless.

I’ve seen first hand the awe that my mum must have seen on my face that day.

Last year at school, we had the Bell Shakespeare travelling team perform ‘Macbeth: The Rehearsal’ to a slightly apathetic, unamused Year 10 audience. At first, the thought of having to actually watch the boring text they’d been studying in English elicited a tedious drone. But within 5 minutes those black box players had the rebel teens in the palm of their hands - the switch turned, the spotlight dazzling. 

For many, it was the first time they’d see a live performance. For some, the impact would be unforgettable.

It may not inspire a life of performance like it did for me, but I believe theatre unveils the luster of life. 

To be human is to understand. To empathise. To comprehend you’re not alone. To share in moments with a common knowledge that what you see, hear and feel is true. And that it can be exciting. 

The space that theatre illuminates is big enough for everyone. Whether it’s a professional show, a community group or a travelling company, it should be encouraged and enjoyed by all.

My parents prioritised it. They took us to musicals, magic shows, circuses, concerts and arenas.

Once the spark was lit, they knew theatre of any kind was essential. 

Mum still reckons she can see that little face light up. It’s in the twinkle of my eye when I’m up on stage even now.

A candle lit by her many years ago.

And I will be forever grateful.