Backstage Bewitchery

Chatting over a cuppa with a dear friend, she described the moment in her childhood that she felt the intoxicating spell of theatre.

She was about 7 years old and was taken to see a production of The Wizard of Oz. She can’t recall where and which company, but she has a distinct vision of being able to see into the wings at the side of the stage. 

It was fascinating. 

All of these wonderful performers were hurrying about or stretching, laughing and preparing out of character. Then they stepped into the light and morphed into other creatures from another world. 

She had had a glimpse of their secret and, in that moment, she had to know more.

The pull of theatre can be different for every person, but what is it that entices one to want to perform? Is it about ego and being a star? Or is there something more magical waiting behind the curtain? 

In a world where being famous seems to have become a career pursuit for many, the craft behind performance has taken a side seat. Even parents of small children are wanting roles and agents and classes that promote their child’s stardom over actual hard work and development.

As a teacher, I cannot tell you how many times I’ve heard a parent say their child wants to pursue a professional acting career.

I wonder if their child is allowed to actually BE a child. Most children just want to play and have fun.

And it’s that key word ‘play’ that I think sums up the allure of theatre. After all, we go to see a ‘play.’

Theatre has the charming ability to bring out the child in us all. And often it’s that backstage bewitchery that draws us in.

In an interview with Colbert, renowned actor Sir Ian McKellen recalled the first time he met with that sorcery.

At age 3, he was taken to a production of Peter Pan. He was mesmerised. But he and his mum had to leave early to catch the train home. As they walked out, he looked back at the set of Neverland and saw, “nothing but starlight.” He remembers saying to himself, “I’m coming back, I want more of this.” However, for him, it wasn’t about being on stage - he had wanted “to find out how you make starlight.”

I’ve seen this same incantation work on grown adults. 

You only have to attend one of the working days at my community theatre to see a group of men joyfully pondering how they’re going to turn some timber and LED lights into a 1950s jukebox or visit the women in the sewing room, chuckling as they create viking horn hats.

A friend bellowed, telling us the story of how she had finished finessing her phony meat pies and had left them on her kitchen bench where her husband had found them and went to take a bite. Poor bloke got quite the rude shock.

There is a delightfulness in the seduction of the unreal.

And I think being part of the mystery of backstage has always been enchanting.

I remember my first show. I would have been 5 or 6, and my school was doing a knock-off ‘free from rights’ version of Charlotte’s Web. I was a dancer at the Fair.

I honestly cannot remember being on stage. But it’s the space behind the stage of the little town hall that I do recall.

There, in the dark, I watched in awe as the ‘big girls’ in hair and make-up giggled excitedly, eager to perform. They were so beautiful and grown-up. 

In actual fact, they were probably 11 or 12 years old, but to me, they were everything. 

In them, I saw myself reflected. 

And in those side stage wings a future was foretold.

Having performed on stage for many years now, I have to say that it is these backstage moments that tend to stay with me. Sure, there’s nothing quite like conjuring the applause of an audience as you finish that song or scene, but weirdly, the performances themselves all tend to apparate once the shows are over.

What stays with you long after the curtain closes are those secrets.

Remember how we made that blood splatter? Remember the pregnant belly leotard? Remember the torch in the fireplace? Remember the dummy in the cupboard? Remember the shadow puppet sex? Remember how we made the window smash? 

Remember her?

Remember him?

Remember the starlight?

The spell theatre casts is more than performance. It’s more than wanting to be the star.

PLAY is the alchemy.

And in that mystical cauldron a secret is shared.