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Show This was the year when members of the theatre department did some really weird things. Like the time during rehearsals, in fact, the final dress rehearsal before opening night, when Larry Fulton, playing Charley Wykeham, in Charley's Aunt, walked on stage from the wrong side, looked at everyone and declared, "I don't know this scene!" Of course, there is always something to be said for the butler, Ray Myers, who stole the show with his mortician-like stance in Charley's Aunt. Or there was the time that the assistant director of Charley's Aunt, Allan Lykins, directed the play barefoot, wore his boots during the performance, and went all dressed up to rehearsal. Of course, those were the times. The times to be remembered, and the times to be forgotten, but can't be because there's too much human nature in those funny incidents. They're the funny incidents that . . . Yeah and then there was the review which panned some cast members who immediately retorted by calling the writer a "tacky bitch." There are the times in theatre when you tell the guy playing the lead role, "break a leg," and he does, but they are countered by the moments when the audience and actors become united as they laugh, weep, and stand in appraisal of the actor's talents. CHARLEY'S AUNT I'm not sure I know when I became interested in theatre. It's almost as if one is born with the need to express himself through the theatre. A play exists only while it is happening and once the last performance is over and the set is torn down, the memory soon begins to fade. The greatest rewards in this business are those that come while the audience is responding to and with the actors on stage. I think that every act that goes into creating that one magical moment is exciting. Theatre is seldom boring; first of all, one meets a new group of actors with each play - fresh personalities that one usually gets to know very well. People outside the theatre may enjoy a performance, but they seldom feel the wonderful world of tension in which an actor lives most of his life. Ivan Crosland |