Imagine that it's opening night. The actors are testy. The lighting, which was perfect at your dress rehearsal, has just had to undergo a last-minute change. And now the actor first to appear onstage is late. You're nervous.
Time marches on. The house fills with people. You can hear the buzz and know that in seconds the lights are supposed to dim and the curtain will go up. The tension has you on the verge of throwing up, but you can't let the crew know.
Curtain time passes and still no sign, no phone call. You assume he's stuck in the snow. You offer free snacks and beverages to pacify the antsy crowd. Then in a flurry, the doors open and there he is!
"The show went off without a hitch," laughs director Vicky Cook, looking back on that horrendous night. "I never did find out why he wasn't there on time, but he did admit it had nothing to do with his car."
If you think this is a rare occurrence in the life of a director, think again. Just about every director has a story about the time an actor didn't show up, or the time the stage manager decided it would be more fun to stay out late with his buddies. But no matter what, the show must go on!
Melanie Sutherland, a New York director, recalls the time when a lead actress just didn't show up. The actress was known to suffer from stage fright, but when Sutherland was casting her, no one warned her about this. Opening night came, and the terrified woman was nowhere to be found. Sutherland had to do a quick recasting and put someone else in the role at the last minute.
"It was pretty hellish, but the show went on."
But while these kinds of events certainly add drama to the life of a director, they're hardly what directors live for. It's working with the actors and creating a team atmosphere that make productions sing. "The biggest thing is to learn not to be too rigid," Sutherland says. "This is art, after all. It's changeable and it's creative."
Like most directors, Sutherland thrives on the pre-production process -- the rehearsals, the tinkering with the scripts and how the scenes will be played out. Once the show is ready for opening night, she can't bear to watch. "It's set then -- like a painting. Then it becomes the actors' show."
Unlike Sutherland and Cook, whose work relies on getting contracts for individual productions, Roy Surette works as an artistic director for a theater. He oversees every production the company puts on.
"I fell in love with theater in childhood," Surette says. As a child, he always had an artistic bent and played around with cartooning. He moved into puppetry and then, once in high school, entered the theater program.
"It's not an easy profession. The hardest thing for fledgling people is to crack into it. There's a little reluctance to provide opportunities to people without experience."
Surette studied at a conservatory theater, and quickly discovered he was more comfortable as a director than an actor. Shortly after he completed the program, he volunteered as an assistant director and then worked his way up through various theater companies.
One of his most exciting productions was The Number 14, a play about life on a bus that runs through the seedier parts of a large city. The show ended up with an extended run, toured Hong Kong and New York and was modified for both high school and adult audiences.
"It made me realize how some things are so [flexible]," Surette says. "That's the thing that's kind of cool about plays -- you can manipulate them in different ways."
And you can get into the business in different ways. William Ellis, a New York theater director, has a long and winding history in the field.
Now in his 60s, Ellis first entered the theater in his 20s, despite the discouragement of his mother.
After 15 years in the field, financial pressure and a family forced him to bow out. But 20 years later, the siren song of the theater called him back. Now he's at the helm once more -- this time introducing seniors to the experience.
"I'm finding now that there's a lot of us around who were at it for a while, and then left and returned," he says.
Ellis loves the creative process. And he enjoys trying out new things -- like altering the typical way actors make their entrance. Instead of coming through a door, why not clamor down a scaffold? It takes some work to encourage the actors, but sometimes it pays off.
Sutherland is also reviewing her role in theater.
"A friend came to see a number of shows last year, and she said to me afterwards, 'I didn't see a theme in your work.' When I entered this profession, I had something to say. There were things I needed to express through this medium. But now I've bored myself, and I need new stimulus for my art."
Regardless, Sutherland can't picture leaving the theater. "With theater, everything is at its peak. And then, once it's opened, I stand at the back of the audience and watch. It's like a gift I'm giving them. I can't imagine doing anything else."
In fact, it's not a bad idea to have a second profession. The theater world is a tough place to make a living.
"I don't know if I would encourage people, at least not in New York," says Ellis. "It's not an easy way to make a living. I don't think I've talked to an actor or director in New York City who hasn't said to me, 'I can't make my living in legitimate theater anymore.'"
That means most people have to be willing to work as an actor, direct television or commercials or even model. "People to varying degrees hate it, but they do it."
But while the productions of Andrew Lloyd Webber may be stealing the headlines, theater continues to thrive outside the confines of Broadway and London's theater district. "The thing doesn't die, there's a history to it," Ellis says.
Despite all the hurdles, the work is certainly worth the effort. Ellis still carries a letter written to him by Robert Nemiroff, husband of the late playwright Lorraine Hansberry, who penned Raisins in the Sun.
Ellis, a great admirer of Hansberry's work, screwed up the courage to phone Nemiroff in California. What resulted was a mentor relationship between the two men. Nemiroff even agreed to travel to New York to see the opening.
"I was so nervous. I couldn't even watch the first act," he recalls. "But when Bob came out he said, 'This is wonderful! Can I get you a glass of wine?' And I said, 'Sure, three or four!'"
In the end, Nemiroff offered Ellis his personal notes on the production, a gift Ellis carries with him to this day. "It was a validation for what I had done, and this from a man of real substance in the theater world."
The need for true passion can't be overstated in this profession. It's a tough field with a long road to success and recognition. "I would warn students, but encourage them at the same time," says Surette. "It's increasingly difficult to get opportunities to break in. But there's certainly a need for exciting, imaginative artists in this field."