I've lived long enough to know the indispensable value of good leadership. Without someone casting a vision that excites the group, and then a plan to get there, achievements are flat. This show sold like wildfire, families willing to grab single seats on opposite sides of the theater just for a chance to be part of the audience. And though you can't boil it down to one man, that man would be Alan Wilson if you could.
No matter how long the nights, how rowdy the actors, how unpredictable the costumes, how fluid the staff and cast... he clung like a captain to the wheel of a ship yawing wildly in ravenous seas to get us here, some 3,000 happy patrons later. From the highest tips of Farquaad's set castle to the soda-splashed floors of the house, he attended zealously to the details, applying his will and wit to every crevice of the performance until it was nearly perfect. In a 65-member cast, who has time to concern himself with the improvement that brown leggings would make over white ones on King Harold, whose legs are mostly in blackness during the 20 seconds that he's on stage in a 3-hour show? Who shops all over town to find the best price on rubber gloves for the Duloc dancers? Who comes up with the idea for Farquaad to squeal in delight when he first hears Fiona's name? Who has watched enough versions of Shrek in other theaters to know the dangers of bad diction from the fairy tale characters? The man has more energy in retirement than I had at 25. He'll publicly say that he has no idea how the cast keeps its pep up for 12 shows. To which I say, with the momentum and example set by Alan during the previous six months, how on earth could we not?
Few staff members in a volunteer theater performs only one role, and that's true of both producer Jay Hartzler and assistant director/sound designer Eli Mundy. They're like diamonds, forged under the great pressure of Alan's expectations and constantly-evolving vision. Jay collected the bios, developed the programs, played the bishop, sang in the Farquaad backup singers, and fixed the toilets. Eli produced a hundred sound effects, organized the delicate timing of sharing microphones, sound checked, kept the batteries fresh. Both helped with the street team to market the show, which paid off handsomely. Both sat mostly and literally in the dark, away from the affection of the audience, though they were not alone in that...
Dorothy Mundy, the resilient and maternal veteran prop mistress, and Bridgette Richard, the boundless talent who also played Fiona's body double on stage, spent uncounted hours painting down to the whiskers on elegantly-styled puppets that would only be on display for one or two seconds. There's no stage recognition for these folks, but the character of the show would be vastly different without them, including their sunny and supportive personalities.
Choreographer Wendy Baugh does for dance what Alan does for comedy, that sixth sense of what will really pop on stage for the audience. No one blends as sharp a mind, effective a message, strong a drive and sweet a smile as her. JoLynn Robinson brings not only her skills but the self-esteem of decades of musical leadership to bring out the best in our harmonies, and the complex amazement of an all-volunteer orchestra playing half-blind in the dusty shop of the theater to supply the heartbeat of the show.
Also toiling in the shadows, with greater exercise than anyone, are stage manager Tyler McWhorter and assistant Judy Stroh. They operate on a constant tightrope of scene-change timing windows, the unpredictabilities of live theater, and the risk of moving two-story tall set pieces that could topple over and squish them. Another pair that gets no limelight for their critical role, they still weave themselves into the fabric of the show's optimism with their light-hearted personalities throughout.
I have raved and could rave about Chris Terven's undying devotion and brilliance, but he's such a modest guy who's already lit his star as Shrek that I'll just say here as a nugget of illustration of his set design that it's been a pleasure to see him dangle that bluebird's branch with all the drama of whether it will explode on stage into a cloud of feathers or not.
Alex Lovel is a rising choreography star, teaching rats to tap dance and children to get their freak flags on. I've been able to spend a fair amount of time with her backstage before our Morning Person scene, enough to understand why her calm, friendly, unassuming nature will serve her well as an elementary ed teacher, as it did during frantic repeated costume changes in this show.
So many others contributed to Shrek's undeniable success. John Cargill, Ethan & Logan Maloy, and others who kept the lights on. Wendi Ayers, who ran herd over the kids cast so that they were happy and not roadkill, who snapped dozens of photos and lit up the backstage with her infectious laugh. Liz Gerwick, the silent genius of makeup design. Opal Virtue and Sherry Bradshaw who presided over the masses at the box office. Sally Baugh, the house manager who runs a delightfully tight and efficient ushering ship. Who can overlook the importance of costume designs from Grace Bova, Karen Clark and Robin West on a shoestring budget? And although she gets no written credit elsewhere, Wendi Fleming has to get some here for her organization of staff gifts, not to mention (for me personally) as always the gratefulness of being brought into the Players' fold.
One more show to go, and it will be a pleasure to make it shine in tribute to all these amazing folks.
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