The bomb threatener made his presence known. So did the audience.
Fortunately it was nearing intermission and the crowd fully engaged in the first half of the musical “Grease” needed a refreshment break. Perhaps from a timing perspective then, the bomb threat called in to the box office at the University of Northern Iowa Strayer-Wood Theatre was less disruptive.
I heard later that the caller simply said, “There’s a bomb in the theatre” but that was enough for an incredibly disciplined theatre staff to execute their well-rehearsed evacuation plan. I was in the line of cast and crew members being hustled out the side door of the building with front-of-house staff already at their outdoor stations to guide us to safety in the basement of the adjacent school of music facility.
We sat along the dulled linoleum floor for several tense minutes before being told the news. Police and fire officials, our technical director informed, were searching the theatre for the alleged explosives. A long half hour passed before the all-clear came.
By then we knew we had to do something. As a company. But what?
My second act entrance to the stage was through the stage left wing in front of the proscenium just out of sight of the audience. I remember pacing, jumping, shaking my hands and arms with extra energy fueled by the thought, “What do we do? WE’VE GOT TO WIN THEM BACK!”
Murmurs floated to my spot offstage as the audience returned to their pre-disruption seats. Not only did they resume their position in the house, they did something to reclaim their performance.
They started to clap.
Cut to a slow-clap scene in any of many movies you’ve seen where the hero is slowly applauded by one, then more, then all for something they did. With that in mind you can begin to feel what happened on this university stage.
It seemed the clapping didn’t start with one. It began with a few, who, feeling the need to support us actors, support each other perhaps, started applauding. A smattering. Not slowly, hardly rhythmically, but together somehow, until what sounded like every member of the crowd was clapping as loud and fast as they could accompanied by intermittent cheers and whistles.
What this goose-bumping rousing did have was crescendo! To a frenzied high point. And at that moment, like a great comedic actor topping a huge laugh, our brilliant conductor slashed their baton downward to launch the opening music for Act Two. The applause continued into the entr’acte.
I cannot fully described the rush of energy I felt upon hearing this. My entrance required a sprint onstage, and I recall my legs bending strongly, feet digging in like a home run hitter’s prep in the box, arms lifted and taut, ready to propel myself on stage. I couldn’t wait for my cue to go on as this exhilarating, focusing energy filled every part of me.
Our audience did this to us. Their message was clear—“WE’RE BACK. WE’VE GOT YOU. AND WE’LL BE DAMNED IF WE’RE GOING TO LET SOME IDIOT TAKE THIS AWAY FROM US.”
Previously we explored “The Kid in your Audience – embrace or embattle?” where we discussed being aware of the polarity of the kid—how they love a great story, and to see you mess it up at the same time. The kid was at the UNI performance of Grease. En masse.
They got to experience both story and mess. In the end, or rather the middle, they opted for the story, not the setback.
Your Audience wants to be with you. Let them.
Their stage. Their performance. And only with them, you’re on!
