Yesterday when I came into the parking lot around the Gammage Auditorium, where I normally park in the same spot every day, I found the entrances flanked by orange cones. As I drove through the maze towards my usual spot, I could see metal fences blocking some of the roads around the auditorium. Large touring buses were parked along one side of the building.
When I came back in the afternoon, one of the buses was idling with its door open. It looked to be a nice touring bus. The curtains will pulled back obscuring the inside. As I came around to the far side of the auditorium where I park, my questions were answered. There I saw a large semi trailer parked about fifty feet from my spot. It was in the same spot as the trailer that had been parked there when I first started working here two months ago. On the side of that trailer had been an advertisement for the show that was in residency at the Gammage that month: Wicked. The giant graphic on the trailer showed the green witch whispering to the white girl, as in the poster. It's a good place for an advertisement as everyone driving by along Mill Street can see it.
Now the new trailer was revealed the new touring show: Mamma Mia!. It showed the main character, a bride, leaning forward and laughing in her wedding dress. The text beside it said "You already know you're going to like it."
The effect of seeing this was jarring on me. It took me back to the day I went into Manhattan for the first time after 9/11. I was in the Staten Island terminal of the ferry and got to the stairwell that descends to the boat. Here there was a large opening, a paneless window that looked out over the harbor towards the city. It hit me that the sky would be blank there, where I expected to see the twin towers. Right next to that window was a poster for the same show, Mamma Mia, then playing on Broadway, with the lead actress in exactly that same pose.
There is something magical after the arrival of the troupe of performers and crew for the touring show. It reminds me of what it must have been like to live in a town in Europe centuries ago and see a theater company arrive in town. Everyone would have been excited and talking about it.
The residency of the show here is fairly short---only through Sunday, as I just learned by looking it up.
2 comments:
Amazing picture painted! Almost like the circus coming to town. The energy, the unpacking, the anticipation. I can smell the make up and tbe extension cords. And the costumes freshly ironed or crumpled. Sweat and tears and applause and sighs.
It's the best part about parking where I do, that I get to see the comings and goings of the touring shows, and think about the people involved, and what an interesting experience that are having, collaborating in a project like that as they go from one place to another, that they will remember forever as a vibrant part of their lives.
Post a Comment