BWW Blog: 'Milestones and Millstones' by Jeffrey Sanzel, Executive Artistic Director, Theatre Three

Sunday, December 15th, at 7:00 p.m. A night that Doug Quattrock will remember for the rest of his career. This night marks his 500th performance in Theatre Three's production of A Christmas Carol. This represents ten years of work, spread out over twenty-five years. It is hours upon hours of rehearsals, long days with double (and, at one time, even triple) performances. It is the lifting of Tiny's of varying shapes, sizes, and, most importantly weights (and don't underestimate the power of the center of gravity).

"How did it feel, Doug?"

"It was wonderful. I knew that people were there, rooting for me."

"And how did that feel?"

"Weird."

"Why?"

" I wanted to give the same performance that I've always given."

"And were you able to?"

"I'm not sure."

Well, I can tell you, Doug, that you did. As I am onstage the entire time, I watched his performance as I have for ten seasons. I saw the delicate and dimensional work he has brought year-after-year. Almost all of Doug's performances have been as Scrooge's long-suffering but ever optimistic clerk Bob Cratchit, the symbol in the tale of all that is good and patient and generous and kind. He sees the best in everything, including in the boss from hell. He even struggles to find that one glimmer in the loss of his child. We have had many terrific Cratchits over the years, but there is something about Doug that truly embodies all of these qualities. There is an honesty and an earnestness that infuses his work.

I hope that's what the audience saw. Many did, I'm sure. But there are also those who are there to share the experience. The significance of the moment. They were bearing witness to the turning of the odometer.

And that's the rub. There is something about these milestones that are peculiar. Having been through several over the years (some zero-numbered performances as well as a faux-well), my memory of them is not the performance as a performance but more as a sideshow. As the numbers went up, so did the EVENT-NESS. I became aware more of people watching someone do something than actually following the story. (Them watching me watching them watching ... Christmas Carol by way of Escher.)

Ultimately, is is not the 100th, 500th, or 1,000th ... It is numbers 101, 503, and 1,010. It's what comes after. It is when we return to the show. Much like opening nights, these "zero-ed" performances step out of the normal run and become their own shows. It is when we return the next day, the day after, the next week, and the next year that we are reminded of the story we are telling.

The same could be said of nights when the show is taped ... or people have guests in the audience ... or an awareness of colleagues (i.e., theatre people). Sometimes it can infuse the production with energy. Sometimes it can become a free-for-all of "Do you love me?"

Five years ago, Theatre Three celebrated its twenty-fifth anniversary production. On the Sunday night of opening weekend, we had a special performance for Christmas Carol veterans. It was not open to the public. It was for actors, designers, technicians, and staff who had worked on any production over the two-and-a-half decade's worth of shows. We had several hundred people, going back thirty years (the theatre presented Christmas Carol from 1979 to 1983 and then picked up again in 1989). Here was an audience of true insiders who brought a knowledge of the details beyond any general theatregoer. They took in the script and staging changes, new props and costumes, and, of course, Randall Parson's brilliant new set. The moments that stand-out for me-and I'm sure for those in attendance-were the goose at the Cratchit dinner party (with real live smoke!) and the opening of the stone church wall to reveal Fred's house-with a fireplace, candles above the mantle, and a Christmas tree. The goose's appearance received a gasp and then a laugh (and not a few actors' good-natured complaining after the show "Why didn't we get that when we did it?"); Fred's house received the evening's biggest round of applause.

This audience did not see the story. They saw "the show."

When are the best performances? Hard to say. It's those random Thursday nights that click. When the night flies by and everyone-cast and audience-are on the same page, following the same journey, sharing the same experience from two sides of the mirror.

So, Doug, congratulations. And welcome to the next 499.

Photos by Sarah E. Bush - Marquez Stewart and Doug Quattrock as the Cratchits