The play, “Superhero High,” is about a school for the super-powered. For the special effects, we used stage hands – manipulating things on poles, lifting kids in the air, etc.
The magic was in the audience being unable to see the stagehands, a trick we pulled off by having them wear t-shirts that said things like, “You can’t see me,” “I’m not here,” and “Suspension of disbelief.”
I got me a t-shirt from the cast when it was done.
I’m wearing the shirt in honor of the fact that the school is performing a new play of mine this weekend, “Deadline,” with music and lyrics by Tony Troy.
It is odd – not the piece, but the fact that I won’t be there this year to see it.
I should be used to it – as a playwright, I do not get to see the majority of my plays in production. In fact, those where the rights are obtained through a publisher like Lillenas or a company like Taproot – I usually don’t even know the work is being staged until my quarterly statement arrives months after closing night.
But this is different – maybe because the director, Jennifer, is such a good friend.
Or because this is the world premiere, and I have no idea how well the writing holds up.
Or maybe I want to be in a room where everybody is celebrating something that I had a hand in.
Do folks that work on assembly lines seek out the cars on the street that they had a hand in? Ask the owner how she handles the road?
Do grocery clerks get tempted to call patrons at night and see how that frozen pizza worked out?
Do hotel maids desire to hide in the closet, to see the look on the guest’s face when he sees how neatly the blankets have been folded over, or if the triangle fold on the tp is appreciated?
Maybe they should.
Just my thoughts,