‘I Even Missed the Smell’: What It’s Like to Be Back at the Theater

We’d start early, at 7 p.m., so people could get away in the daylight. Every show was a 90-minute battle against the elements — it was very wild and noisy at times. We went through two named storms, Ellen and Francis. But every performer was desperate to get out there, as were the hundreds of audience members. We got standing ovations.

One night, a bunch of people took out their phone cameras, and I was like, “Wow, I didn’t realize I was acting so well!” But then I turned around, and there was the most perfect rainbow sitting in the middle of the ocean.

Being an African-American Dolly amid both the Black Lives Matter movement and the pandemic is something I’ll always remember.

I forgot how much I craved the camaraderie. Theater people sparkle — they’re your tribe. You can talk about silly things like headshots and character shoes that people out in the real world don’t always understand. I even missed the smell — that mix of electricity and dust settled into the walls.

Felicia Shulman

Audience member, “En Pointe” short play series

Tableau D’Hôte Theater, Montreal

The last one I saw was performed in a park, and the subject was that they’re closing some YMCAs in Montreal — it’s very political; small communities are up in arms because those places are community centers — and people were actually screaming, “No!” People who weren’t audience members and who were just walking down the street stopped to watch. It was really beautiful.

Brandon Victor Dixon

Performer, Broadway Relief Project concert

Open Jar Studios, New York

It felt like old times, even with the sparseness of the audience. They were so excited to be hearing live music.

At the last minute, I threw in a version of Ray Charles’s “America the Beautiful.” I spent most of the evening talking about politics and social justice issues, and that song speaks to the aspirations of America — America can become great, but only when humans come together.

I appreciated the ability to come together and create, but I was acutely aware of the fact that the challenge of making a living in the arts right now is formidable. So many artists are out of work, and the economic relief is lacking.

Arifa Akbar

Chief theater critic, The Guardian

“Beat the Devil,” Bridge Theater, London

Of course, it wasn’t the same experience as “before.” The room felt comparatively empty due to the reduced capacity and, since we were all wearing face coverings, there wasn’t the same talkative hum. But the experience was thrilling nonetheless, from having a preshow coffee at the bar to listening in on the conversations on the way out.

Kristine Nielsen

Actor, “I Can’t Imagine Tomorrow”

Food for Thought Productions, Theater 80 St. Marks, New York

We could only have about 20 people in the audience, so the applause sounded like one hand clapping. But it still moved me to tears.

Some of our best choices aren’t things we come up with on our own at home, but they’re reacting to how someone else says their line. That collaboration is what I’ve missed. There were a few times when I was able to just look into Nathan Darrow’s eyes and forget the [livestreaming] camera was there. I’m sure I didn’t look up enough because I was so happy to be looking at another actor.

My first time back in the theater was like being born again. I started doing the lighting, and it was like everything disappeared. Of course, I missed the social element — we had no place to go out after rehearsals. I’d go back to my hotel room and have a cookie. But I slept soundly, wonderfully — I bounded out of bed in the morning and went to the theater.

When the house lights went down on opening night, I thought the audience would cheer, but they didn’t. They’d been away for five months and had forgotten how to behave. But halfway through Act I, they got more lively, and by Act II, they were fine. During the standing ovation at the end, they were applauding themselves as much as the performers.

Diana Mendel

Director, “The Red Velvet Cake War”

Brooke Hills Playhouse, Wellsburg, W.Va.

It’s mostly senior citizens who attend, and they were delighted. People came up to me and said, “Thank God you’re doing something this summer. Are you doing another one after this?” And then, at our cast party, my actors did something no cast had ever done for me before: They made a donation in my honor to save the barn.

Pauline Moffat

President, IndyFringe

Avenue Indy Jazz Quintet, Indianapolis, Ind.

We were nervous, so we capped our first show in our pocket park in July at 65 people. But the demand was incredible — we sold out. It was like a mental-health day for people. One couple has come back for every show we’ve done since.

Of course, it’s not easy being outdoors in a city. One night two fire engines pulled into the parking lot of the building next door. There’s traffic noise, or sometimes a motorbike decides to rev its engine down Mass Ave. The occasional drunk will wander by and ask, “What’s going on?” Sometimes it shimmers; sometimes it’s annoying. But that’s the magic of live theater.