1980-81

The Fall Play in November, 1980 was I NEVER SAW ANOTHER BUTTERFLY, a play by Celeste Raspanti based on the memories of Raja Englandorova, a survivor of the Terezin Concentration Camp, a way station for hundreds of thousands of people on their way to Auschwitz and the gas chambers. I have always been fascinated by the ways in which ordinary human beings face times of extraordinary difficulty. When Terezin was liberated in May, 1945, journals, drawings, poems, diaries and letters were found where they had been hidden by the children and teachers. I was particularly struck by the colorful drawings, many of flowers, butterflies and happy homes, which stood in stark contrast to the words describing the pain and drudgery of daily life in the camp. In staging I NEVER SAW ANOTHER BUTTERFLY we tried to capture this dichotomy. The play was not so much about individuals as it was about human spirit and resiliency. Eighteen students acted in this production. The staging was very simple - a black stage with basic props. Projected on a screen behind the actors were pictures drawn by the children of Terezin. Before and after the play the audience heard Smetana’s Moldau and Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms. Of course, a play with the serious content of I NEVER SAW ANOTHER BUTTERFLY will never get the kind of applause that a comedy or a musical can elicit. I was very pleased with the effect our efforts had, and I found the silence of the audience and the evidence of tears very appropriate.

For the spring of 1981 we selected another classic musical, BRIGADOON. In preparing to write about BRIGADOON, I met with Aggie Armstrong and Dick Arnold to pick their brains and memories. I lamented that age seemed to be robbing me of my memories because I seemed to have more anecdotes regarding the early shows that I have already written about than I do about the shows after OKLAHOMA! Aggie made an interesting comment in the ensuing discussion about my aging gray cells. She pointed out that OKLAHOMA! was a milestone for the GP. Until then the GP, which is today so well established, was struggling to become organized and confident. In ou

r first ten years: -we had learned to use the High School stage which was then even stranger in conformation than it is today. -The staff had learned to work together very comfortably. -We had acquired equipment and resources which made production easier. -We had established procedures for auditions, rehearsals and scheduling which worked very well. In short, The Guilderland Players had matured, become more confident and now left very little to chance. Our focus had changed from survival to living up to and enhancing the reputation The Guilderland Players had developed. There were fewer surprises.

BRIGADOON is a musical with a plot gimmick which is better left unanalyzed. The idea of a village, apart from our world, where one day equals a 100 years in the rest of the world raises many questions when examined. When producing BRIGADOON, it is important that the audience be so entranced by the idea of a refuge

from today’s hectic world that they don’t want to examine it; they just want to believe it. In other words, BRIGADOON must create a mood which is consistent and powerful through the music, the scenery, the lighting, the costumes and the choreography. Let’s start with the last first. There was choreography everywhere in BRIGADOON. The market scenes where choreographed. There are several ballet numbers. There is the chase where poor Harry Beaton meets his maker. (How does one stage a chase which intended to cover miles of forest on a stage the size of ours?) And then, of course, there are the ceremonial dances at the wedding. Surely in every audience there would be one or more highland dancer critiquing every move. (In the case of the sword dance, mistakes would equal clanging swords and, perhaps, bloody toes.) Gigi Obloy was once again up to the task. The dances of BRIGADOON created the proper setting and moods.

I always think of BRIGADOON as a study in blue and green. Once again, with the behind the scenes help of Paul Krauss, the cafeteria was turned into a scene shop during February break and a large backdrop of ancient, gnarled trees was produced. The wedding scene featured the ruins of an old church with a strangely intact stained glass window. Once again, the Queen of Papier Mache contributed. So enamored of her medium was she that she wrote “An Ode to Papier Mache” which featured the following deathless quatrain:

And even in our current set,

Of Brigadoon’s most bonnie brae,

The rocks and stones that lie about

Are fashioned of thee, O papier mache.

I believe this was the year we discovered ScenoGraphics, a company which rents scenery plans and blueprints. Although they are designed for traditional proscenium theatres and therefore require alteration when used by the GP, the plans are excellent and are real time savers. Luckily for all, Don Webster was back as conductor for this show thus saving us from trying to find a conductor when Aggie Armstrong broke her leg and ended up in a wheelchair. Rumor had it that she did it practicing the highland fling, but in actuality, after giving up skiing as too dangerous, she fell while walking. I can still hear her screams as she was pushed around the parking lot at a high speed during a particularly balmy day during February vacation. It has been suggested that Peter Ermides and Chris Webster were the pushers, but I always think of them as models of decorum. (Well, Chris at least.)

The orchestra was fine and was augmented in several scenes by a piper (Jim Fitzpatrick of the Schenectady Pipe Band) on stage. As I recall, getting the pipe in tune with the orchestra was tricky business. The pipe was first heard off stage, and the effect was powerful. There is a moment when every show “comes together”, and I believe the first rehearsal with the piper was that day for BRIGADOON.

The singing in BRIGADOON is also an essential part of creating the mood. After all, before we see the town, we hear the voices of its citizens singing about it. Luckily for Aggie, our vocal director, Nancy Price was there to help out when Aggie, her cast and her chair couldn’t make it.

The lighting for BRIGADOON was especially challenging since Mike Cusick had moved to Atlantic City to pursue his career. The lighting design for BRIGADOON was done by two students, Steve Albert and Mark Capozucco. At this time we were renting a complete lighting system since the school's system consisted of a nine-dimmer mechanical board located backstage and perhaps 20 ancient lighting instruments. The weekend before the final week of rehearsals would be spent installing the equipment which we transported from the rental shop to the school in an old school bus driven by yours truly. Installing the wiring and equipment took much of Friday night as well as Saturday afternoon and evening, often until the wee hours of the morning. Even under Mike’s supervision this job was tedious, and we often spent hours troubleshooting the equipment. Doing it without Mike was the most nerve wracking part of producing BRIGADOON for me, but Steve and Mark did amazingly well.

The costume plot for BRIGADOON required that the Scottish men wear kilts. Luckily, The Costumer in Schenectady had a great selection of wonderful kilts and after a lengthy discussion about the appropriate undergarments to be worn with kilts on stage, we had a willing group of wearers. I think part of the enthusiasm had to do with the fact that kilts were thought better than tights. The costuming did much to set the mood and so enthusiastic was I about the kilts that I chose to wear a kilt and tweed jacket to the show each night.

The cast for BRIGADOON numbered 53. There were 23 in the orchestra. The program was 40 pages long. BRIGADOON was a success. Of course the audience loved it, but we, the Guilderland Players, also loved it. It was a trip to a magical place.

The summer theatre production in 1981 was PUNCH AND JUDY.