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Essay |
| The light of the
house spilled into the orchestra pit and climbed up the folds of the curtain.
Heels swinging, I watched the musicians tuning up below. My parents had
been taking me to local musicals and operas regularly. Intrigued by the
stage, I had convinced them to buy tickets to some shows on Broadway. Now
we were seated in the center of the front row of the Imperial Theatre,
waiting for the curtain to rise on Les Miserables. I was unaware that in
just five short minutes my eyes would be opened to life in a new way.
I fell in love with the first crashing notes which soared from the pit at the urgent call of the conductor. Eyes wide, I saw the crouched bodies of suffering prisoners appear. Jean Valjean, the saintly criminal, came to life before me. From the shadows, another figure emerged cloaked in official solemnity. He was Javert, duty-bound and cruelly upstanding. Actor Chuck Wagner's Inspector Javert was both commanding and terrifying. Every time he appeared, I leaned so far forward in my seat that I nearly fell into the orchestra pit. I felt like he was delivering all his songs to me. When the end of his suicide soliloquy came and he leapt from the bridge, I felt myself tumbling into the Seine with him. Crying and cheering, I jumped to my feet when the curtain call began. One by one the actors filed out and acknowledged the applause. Chuck Wagner appeared, with his Javert side-burns and greatcoat. He stood center stage, towering over me. He looked me in the eye, smiled, and bowed. The curtain fell. My family and I left the Imperial and went back to the hotel. I have been asking myself for a long time what it was about that night which changed me. I think it was the magic I felt watching an actor assume a character with such passion, conviction, and reality. It was the knowledge that I was seeing an aspect of humanity which I had never known before; an entire world of people had come to life before me, and all of them were dominated by Javert. Since then, Javert has come to represent all of humanity in my mind. His downfall - the inability to see more than one right way - is the essential downfall of mankind. We are all a little bit of Javert. Theatre is a communion of souls. The moment Chuck Wagner and I met eyes, we recognized that we had shared a truth. The smile we exchanged was an acknowledgment of the connection between us. I may never be able to meet Chuck Wagner to thank him for teaching me to love humanity. I may never be able to tell him that his performance marked the beginning of my love for the theatre. I can only express my gratitude through my actions. Since that night, I have taken every opportunity to learn about people. I have sought ways to work backstage locally, finding my way first into the bowels of Opera Roanoke as a volunteer. I have spent my summers and school nights as a dresser at Mill Mountain Theatre, a major regional theatre. I help my beloved actors do their magical job. In this way, I help others learn and experience what I did. Every task I do and every show I run says, "Thank you, sir, for giving me my passion. Thank you, sir, for changing my life." --Shari Perkins
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