Behind The Scenes of King Lear

“We’re turning it into a musical!”

The Bastard Edmund waves his hands in the air and breaks into a light dance. His lines come easy and other actors join in calling out their lines in song. Off to the sidelines, The Earl of Gloucester is reading a thick black book, oblivious yet content. A Servant Girl on her way to the dressing room catches the eye of The Fool and extends her hand in a longing fashion, her red curls playfully hopping around. The Fool reciprocates her impromptu gesture. She laughs. Over the loudspeakers, the stage manager sounds the call. “Ladies and gentlemen, the house is now closed. Places for the top of the show. Break a leg, everybody!”

Every semester, the University of Texas Pan American Theatre Department puts on at least two shows. The first show of the 2011 Fall season is King Lear.

Hours before the lights dim and the show begins, the actors file in to the makeup room, some with smiles large enough to light up everything around them, some with weary eyes from the revelries of the previous night. Conversations come easy. Food, in various states of health and otherwise, is consumed, sometimes neatly, more often messily.

Each actor is in charge of his or her own makeup for this show. Some take to this task with ease and aplomb, others with an indifference that is often reserved for menial house chores. This is the first show in recent years that this responsibility was placed upon the actors and some are not taking too kindly to the decision. Still, everyone does what is required of them, despite their misgivings. Men apply eyeliner, unsteadily at first, but by the show’s last day are near pros.

A bit player in the show, Guard/Servant #Whatever, prepares his mind for the task ahead by sitting at the old black upright piano and noodling notes. Some songs he knows by heart. Others, he takes his time picking out the correct keys. Another bit player, Servant Girl #2 comes up to the bench, sits down and insists that they play “Chopsticks” in unison. The results are less than melodic.

In the hallway that connects the makeup room to the costume shop, the scene workshop, and the stage itself, Assistant Stage Managers, also known as ASMs, bustle to and fro, looking for actors, props, costume accessories, other ASMs; their headsets linked together to the Stage Manager, or SM, in the control booth.

The SM hisses, “Where the fuck is Lear?!”

The reply from an ASM, “Five seconds. He’s still changing.”

Three and a half seconds later, “Okay, he’s going.”

Silence from the radio as Lear walks onto the scene. Then, without skipping a beat, from the SM, “Light cue 49… go!”

During the climactic thunderstorm of the first half of the show, the Sound Runners hunch over the Effects Shortcut Consoles and the mixing board. There is a tension in the air that lifts their shoulders ever so slightly.

The SM calls, “Thunder clap, stand by.”

One of them calls back, “Standing by.”

“Cues go!”

A giant thunderclap is heard as the Light Runners punctuate the scene with lightning effects. Almost immediately, the SM calls again, “Thunder clap, stand by.”

“Standing by.”

Before the intermission is over, a servant to the Duke of Cornwall unsheathes his prop sword, takes a place in front of the large mirror wall in the studio adjacent to the main theatre, and rehearses his big sword fight. He swings his sword confidently. His lines and blocking are fluid. It’s his big moment. When it comes time for him to get in place, he sheathes his sword, nods once to the mirror, and strides away confident, assured.

As the sad notes of a violin punctuate the final scene, there is a palpable feeling of relief from the tech crew. Everything has gone as it must to complete that day’s show. When the house lights come back up to let the patrons out, the SM makes one last call over the radio.

“Good show, everybody.”

The radio is shut down with the flip of a switch, the sound consoles with the turn of a key, and the lighting console with the click of a mouse. The players and crew file out at their own pace once the house is clear. Before the last person leaves, one solitary light, called the ghost light, is placed in the center of the stage and turned on, to keep the lonely theater company until it is populated once again with the sights, lights and sounds of men and women playing pretend to entertain and delight all who attend.