Good Witch? Well, I suppose I can be sweet at times. It is acting after all!

If you read my last entry, you saw that I took a show off for the first time in a year and a half. I’m re-entering stage life as Glinda, the Good Witch of the North.

Now, with the exception of Isabelle in SCROOGE, I’ve played the mean one (Sweet Sue in SUGAR), or the older one (Ethel in FOOTLOOSE) for quite some time. However, in THE WIZARD OF OZ, they’ve decided to let me try my hand at sweetness. Here goes nothin’!

I must say though, this is not by any means your typical “sweet lady.” This is SICKENINGLY good, while being practically aerobic in happy movement.

Okay, let’s get down to business. Why the title “You Dirty, Dirty Ramp,” you ask? While being as perky as possible, a bouncy ball on speed really, wrapped in a froo-froo dress from hell — why don’t you try your luck at walking up a 90-degree angle ramp, Emily? (Of course, I AM an actor and therefore dramatic, but holy goodness!) This may be the last time you read a blog from me, as I may die if the break on this rolling triangle of death gives out. Wouldn’t that be a plot twist? “A house has just been dropped on the Wicked Witch of the East… and ironically, it looks like we lost another witch. Glinda was just found with a broken neck after she accidently dove head first into a group of munchkins. Guess we shouldn’t have had such an irresponsible celebration!”

Don’t get me wrong, everything in the world is done to ensure our safety on stage, but the life of an actor is a perilous one. It’s very seldom you get through a show without some bruises, perhaps a broken bone… or ten.

BUT:

Come rain, come shine, come snow, come sleet, THE SHOW MUST GO ON! Right?

I was hypnotized — a six-year-old, seated on the couch with an untouched bowl of popcorn perched precariously on my lap — and I stared, transfixed, at the television screen as Judy Garland walked sadly through the farmyard, singing about a dream world I’d often wished to escape to myself.

Photo courtesy of Michael Combs

My entire family has pretty much always been involved in theatre — my Mom being thrust into show biz at a very young age with the Magic Circle Theatre in Montrose (where my grandparents directed and acted for years), and my Dad since he played Tevye (the first time) during his junior year at Grand Junction High School. Being exposed to that much theatre essentially told everyone how my brother and I were going to grow up — drawn to the stage, naturally.

My kindergarten teachers knew I was destined for the life of an actress when I would write out skits from THE WIZARD OF OZ, pick seven or eight people and cast them in their roles, then act out the movie on the playground. Of course, there were various changes here and there, as one might expect — i.e., the fact that I was always Scarecrow because I wanted to dance like Ray Bolger and that my friend Kevin was always Dorothy simply because he liked dogs the best out of all of us, etc. — but it was very apparent that it was one of my early dreams to step into Ms. Garland’s shoes and sing about that happy little world over the rainbow.

Since those fateful playground escapades I’ve played a myriad of roles, ranging from the frightened, yet optimistic Anne Frank in YOURS, ANNE (the musical version of THE DIARY OF ANNE FRANK) to the dancing, care-free Snoopy in YOU’RE A GOOD MAN CHARLIE BROWN (and quite a few in between), but I can honestly say that until now, I’ve never had the chance to play one of my “dream” roles, as they say.

When they announced last fall that we would be doing WIZARD OF OZ this spring, my heart stopped beating for a moment or two. I’d never felt that excited about an upcoming show before — and I’ve never prepared for an audition like I did for that one. Of course, I was so nervous when I finally got up there to sing that I still screwed up my song and I felt absolutely stupid about my audition. So when I got the call to play Dorothy, I was so surprised I almost started crying right where I was, both out of relief and happiness.

I couldn’t help but feel like it was too good to be true, and when the Cabaret was seized by the state last month, I’ll admit that for a split second I thought it was very ironic and that I would probably never get to play that sweet little girl from Kansas. However, before we knew it, the Cabaret was open again, and I found myself onstage every night during THE GOODBYE GIRL just wishing we could hurry and get to Saturday morning or Monday night so we could keep rehearsing WIZARD.

I will admit that one of my favourite aspects of theatre is the friendships I share with the people I get to work with on a daily basis. The best way I can think to describe it is an extended family of pseudo brothers and sisters and uncles and aunts, and I consider quite a few of these people to be some of my closest friends. I am so fortunate to have the opportunity to play opposite R.J. Dolan and David Kenworthy who play Scarecrow (who was always my favorite character growing up), and Seth Armor and Rocky Dial as the Tinman, and Arn McConnell as the Lion — and also to have Sarah Gallegos as my double in yet another show. I’m beginning to think that she and I are synonymous for one another. But it gets better. My mother and I get to play mortal enemies, as she is playing the Wicked Witch of the West — which, I must say, is very fun. I think that the fact that she and I are so close in real life is simply because we can get up onstage and scream at each other and know that we really don’t mean it. I guess what I’m trying to say is that, in my mind, this show was cast perfectly, and I can’t wait to open the show to the public so that everyone can see the time and effort we have all put into making this show a success.

It struck me tonight, as I stood in the middle of the stage, hugging a four-pound Yorkie to my chest and stroking his ears while glaring at the floor because we’d stopped (for about the 80^th time) to address a problem with a scene change, that — even though the rehearsal process has been stressful, tempers have flared, hands have been glued to munchkin faces and set-pieces have hit unsuspecting actors on the head — there was really no other place I want to be more than standing on that stage, fulfilling that crazy childhood fantasy that I never — even in my wildest dreams — imagined would come true.

I suppose I should consider myself lucky, because I know that, every night I stand on that familiar stage, dealing with all the usual theatre things, for that two-and-a-half hour period that I am Dorothy Gale rather than Courtney Lee Borden, I’ll be reliving that moment I first heard Judy sing that wonderful song. In a strange sense, it’s my way of becoming a little kid again and fulfilling all those childhood dreams.

After all, who wants to grow up this fast anyway?

Here’s a commercial for the Cabaret’s 2003 production of BILOXI BLUES. The commercial was written, directed, produced and animated by Arn McConnell. It features performances by Terry Snead, James O’Hagen-Murphy, Ben Dial and David Kenworthy.

There are few things scarier for an actor than going into a show after it’s already been running for awhile.  Whether you’re replacing another actor permanently or as an understudy, you will know the special fear that comes with entering a show without the benefit of proper rehearsals… and with the danger of screwing something up for your fellow castmates.

Although SCROOGE closed a couple weeks ago, we’re pleased to reprint the following account of one actor’s entry into a show-in-progress, written on the occasion of Michael Combs going in as Pringle/Fezziwig when another thespian abruptly quit the show.  This blog originally appeared on Mike’s MySpace profile in a slightly more R-rated version.  We thank him for bowdlerizing his original, since it offers a pretty good idea of what the experience is like.  (By the way, you’ll be able to see Mike again in the upcoming productions of THE GOODBYE GIRL and WIZARD OF OZ.)

How’d it go?

It was like being a six-year-old again, riding my bike down a hill that was much steeper than I had thought it would be. Faster and faster I went, until I reached critical mass and realized that I could fall off at any time and scrape the hell outta everything I owned. And yet I was able to bring it together and make it to the bottom with nary a mark, except a river of cold sweat staining my t-shirt.

Photo courtesy of Michael Combs

In many ways, it’s the classic actor’s nightmare, going onstage with a show that you didn’t know for a houseful of important people — I was wearing pants however. For those of you who don’t know, if you have to take over a role for someone at the Cabaret, you don’t actually get to rehearse with anybody. The rest of the cast is out doing what they do and you do what you do by yourself in hopes you can seamlessly fit in. So I got a script, the backing tracks, an afternoon with my double and I got to watch a show a few times to prepare. I didn’t want to be the guy to screw up a show by coming late to the party so I obsessed about this part, a small one at that, until I thought I was ready. And…..well………I was ready as much as I could be without actually physically doing it — which is the only way I learn things.

That day, I got to the theater at 11 and watched the show tapes over and over again, until I got that air of confidence. Not the “I’m going to do fine” confidence or the “I’ve learned as much as I can and will have fun” confidence but rather the “I don’t think I will vomit onstage” confidence. Thanks to the lovely, talented and oh-so-patient Jill Tarr, I got my costume together a few hours before the show. And backstage, I sat in my odd little Pringle costume, going over my lines and subtracting the time from opening in my head, repeating, “Well, I’ve got another two hours to learn this role.” Panic set in when Philip kept giving us the time to places and the mantra turned into “I’ve got another ten minutes to learn this role.”

Everyone coming in was terrifically supportive and offered me bits of cheering up like, “You’re going to be fine,” and “I hope you know your scene changes,” and “Holy cow, you’re going in at the same time Kevin is!” Kevin Steward was also going in at the same time as I was. He was the double for Tyler all along, but he had some stuff come up and got only a couple rehearsals with the cast. He was as brand new as I was. He had that strained smile of discomfort that I had. I was convinced that at some point during the show, he’d jet left when I’d jet left and we’d just hit heads.

I begged the cast that if I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, they should just shove me into place. And for the most part, it worked great. When I needed to promenade around the lamppost, Jeremy bearhugged me and led me around. When I needed to step up onto the lamppost, Josh grabbed me by the elbow and up I went. When I needed to get off-stage, Josh shoved me. It was nice.

The fun part of that was watching the people’s faces as they did it. Some people were subtle, some weren’t. Jon, who played Mrs. Fezziwig, had a look of disgusted patience, much like the one a parent would have on his face when trying to teach her child how to use the clutch. Kristin had this wide-eyed look of forced nonchalance, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar and denying everything.

There were flubs and problems that happened, naturally. Some of the most notable ones:

Since I couldn’t wear my glasses, I couldn’t see well enough to do most things. During the puppeteering of my phantom, I decided to put my glasses on under my black hood. Big mistake. Because I was putting off so much heat, my glasses fogged up and reduced my visibility to zero. I had to run off-stage with my phantom and rip my glasses off.

I ran to hop into the “Fezziwig Mobile,” a six-foot chair on wheels, and because I was both blind and in the dark, I wasn’t aware that the chair was tipping over as I was getting in. That is, until I heard Janae go, “WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA!” as I slowly began to topple on top of her. Luckily, she’s got that flea strength and held up the chair until Josh and Kevin could place me upright.

Because I was so sweaty, my mic tape came off and I had to hold onto the tape with my hand during the “December the 25th” number.

But there it is — I did it with nary a nick or an embarrassing deluge of vomit. I had as much fun out there as I could, and hopefully I was able to hide my look of terror. And tonight, I get to do it again.

Eeek.

Photo courtesy of Michael Combs

I’m Emily Erkman. You may have seen me if you’ve been to the Cabaret in the last year and a half or so. Yes, that’s right, the last year and a half. With the exception of doing one show at the Metro Playhouse, and HONKY TONK ANGELS in which I stepped in as an understudy, I have done every show at the Cabaret since the most recent production of FIDDLER ON THE ROOF.

As you know, the Cabaret’s production of SCROOGE closed on January 13th. It was a bittersweet closing for me, knowing that I would be taking the next show, THE GOODBYE GIRL, off.

I had been planning to take a show off, but now that this time has rolled around, it’s a strange feeling for me.

The life of an actor is an odd one. Especially one who works full-time and has a child. However, acting is my career focus. Therefore, I have kept quite the hectic schedule to quench my thirst for performing. I work nine hours a day, and on the days that I have a show, I pretty much go straight to the theater, get ready, and leave the theater around 10pm. It does seem slightly insane that a person would put themselves through that intense of a schedule, but that’s what most of the performers you see go through on an almost daily basis. Why? Because we love what we do.

For the next two months I believe I’m going to feel a little empty. It’s strange, when you do multiple shows at a theater, you start to feel as if you’re a part of a family. Though you are part of a glorified “carnie” sort of family, it is a family nonetheless. Each cast grows in performance with each other, hears the stories we have about our day and just generally “puts up with” each other. (Some days.)

I’m looking forward to this break, to spend more time with my beautiful daughter and really just breathe. However, I’m greatly looking forward to returning to the stage, seeing those 165 faces smiling and laughing, feeling the warmth of the lights and being a part of the great entertainment that the Cabaret Dinner Theatre offers its wonderful patrons.

Last night was the 64th and final performance of SCROOGE at the Cabaret Dinner Theatre. The show was a smashing success, with almost every performance sold-out. Here are some photos taken backstage during the show’s final week by Michael Combs, who alternated with Rocky Dial as Fezziwig in the production. Michael has kindly allowed us to post these here, but you can find many more of his backstage candids at Michael’s MySpace site.

All photos courtesy of Michael Combs

Here we see the unusual sight of actor Peter Ambrose reading backstage.

Despite nursing a cold during part of the run, Peter played Ebenezer Scrooge in all 64 performances of SCROOGE. His extensive dramatic training at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, the University of Nevada, the Tracy Roberts Actors Studio and Loma Linda University, and his well-rounded thespian skills have helped make Peter a regular on the Cabaret stage. He has previously appeared in KISS ME KATE, CATS, THE FULL MONTY and A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE FORUM, just to name a few. He will next be seen in the upcoming production of THE GOODBYE GIRL.

When Peter isn’t pounding the Cabaret’s boards, he can often be found haunting local cinemas. Peter is also the Artistic Director and founder of the Sweetwater Shakespeare Company.

Ruthmary Allison played Miss Dilber and, during the “Toy Ballet” sequence in Act I, a cuddly teddy bear.

Ruthmary is a retired teacher, but still regularly exercises her educational “muscles” in the Cabaret’s summer academy, and has acted in many, many Cabaret productions like last year’s children’s show JAMES AND THE GIANT PEACH and mainstage shows including FOOTLOOSE and FIDDLER ON THE ROOF among others.

When Ruthmary isn’t working onstage or backstage, she can often be found entertaining children in local schools as part of the Mesa County Spellbinders Storytelling Project.

Like most of the actors in SCROOGE, Ruthmary was originally doubled with another actress for her role as Miss Dilber. But when that actress suddenly dropped out of the production two days before opening, Ruthmary learned she would have to perform every show for a few weeks until a replacement could be found and trained. Eventually, Machelle Kushnerick took the role and gave Ruthmary a couple nights off, but the cast and Cabaret management was thankful Ruthmary was such a trouper.

Ruthmary also performed the valuable service of making minor costume repairs during the run of the show.

Arn McConnell played soup vendor Tom Jenkins in all 64 performances of SCROOGE. During the “Toy Ballet” sequence, he was the hapless monkey.

Arn has appeared in many productions for the Cabaret, including GUYS AND DOLLS, MY FAIR LADY, A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE FORUM, ANNIE GET YOUR GUN, THE MUSIC MAN, BAREFOOT IN THE PARK, and elsewhere locally in CLUE: THE MUSICAL, MURDER AT THE HOWARD JOHNSON’S, ARSENIC AND OLD LACE and SOMETHING’S AFOOT. You might remember him most recently as the naughty old man, Osgood, in SUGAR. He also counts the role of George in the Atomic Theatre’s production of WHO’S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF as a highlight of his theatrical career. Arn is an award-winning animator and also works in the Cabaret’s marketing department.

We’ll post more of Michael’s backstage photos tomorrow.

Here’s the new commercial for the Cabaret’s upcoming Second Stage production of TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE.  It features Michael Dean Becker and Kirk McConnell, and was written, directed and produced by Cabaret Marketing Director Arn McConnell.  TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE was written by Jeffrey Hatcher and Mitch Albom, and is based on Albom’s best-selling book by the same name.  It opens January 17 for a very limited run.  TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE is the inaugural production of the Cabaret’s new Second Stage series of comedies and “dramadies” that will play between the theater’s regular mainstage productions.

Photo courtesy of Caisa Sanburg

Rehearsals have begun for THE GOODBYE GIRL for the children.  There are three girls in the stage version of THE GOODBYE GIRL:  Lucy, and her two friends Cynthia and Melanie.  We have double cast these roles:

• Lucy – Laura Lockwood, Mariah Prinster
• Cynthia – Deanna Wright, Sierra Kuntz
• Melanie – Karen Prather, Elaine Bramwell

The girls have begun music rehearsals with Music Director Jo Sanburg and are learning very quickly.  They have some challenging three-part harmonies that are really going to sound great!  The adult cast members for THE GOODBYE GIRL will begin rehearsals after the first of the new year.

Here’s a commercial for the Cabaret’s 2002 Children’s Production at the Avalon Theatre, SCHOOLHOUSE ROCK! As usual, the commercial was written, directed, produced and animated by Arn McConnell. It features performances by Lee Borden, Kori McConnell, Kelly Asuka and Trevor Adams.

Here’s a commercial that was produced for the Cabaret’s 2001 mounting of LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS.  As is the case with all Cabaret spots, it was written, directed, produced and animated by Arn McConnell.  This spot features performances by Kevin McConnell and a hirsute Seth Armour, who has gone on to become the one of the Cabaret’s best young actors as well as its (now clean-shaven) Assistant General Manager.

This spot won the “Best Animation in a Commercial” Award from the Colorado Broadcasters Association.