A Quiet Build

By Sarah Thornton
•
23 Apr, 2020
•

The Playhouse is normally abuzz. There are classes full of children learning and laughing, Cabarets rehearsing with the sounds of beautiful voices and piano keys wafting through the halls, or lip-trills and tongue twisters and groans from weary muscles in warm-up before rehearsals or performances. On any given day, there is a symphony of receipt machines, phones, printers, and knocks on doors, microwaves humming with Tupperware dinners on the lunch and dinner breaks, coffee machines beeping and tea kettles whistling,

and squirrels in the gutters scampering to their usual acorn storage places.

(RIP, Earl of Squirrel. 4pm isn’t the same without you, friend.)

There are the familiar voices of our beloved volunteers and staff, playing “Marco Polo” to find where Scott is in the building before climbing the stairs looking for him, the jolly fun of our wonderful set-building team underscored by hammers and drills and saws, Spotify playlists that are always a fun guessing game of whose turn it was to pick the music that day. And then, there are also the ever-exciting noises of a loved, older building in Cloverdale that fill every silent stretch, the ones that make the imagination run wild: ACs kicking on and off, water fountains whirring, creaks and groans of unknown origin, and whatever mischief our ghost is up to.

(Yes, we have one. We think he’s friendly.)

Scott Grinstead, our Technical Director at the Playhouse, has a fantastic group of volunteers who work so hard (while always with a cheerful and generous energy) to build every set for each production. They are a well-oiled machine and a great group of humans to boot. “More hands make lighter work,” as they say, and our set crew keeps things fun and light even while doing the heavy lifting! So, now that we are practicing good social-distancing for the safety of our Playhouse family, poor Scott is doing the heavy lifting sans the team. His hard work and dedication to keeping our little theatre chugging along during this difficult time is truly inspiring.

So, I asked Scott to share what makes this set-build in a pandemic for The Quality of Life unique for him, and here are his thoughts:

“It’s eerily quiet. That’s the biggest change of building a show during quarantine.

At some point, on every show, there comes a time in the build where I find myself alone for a few days, finishing details or painting. But this is different. This is like walking into a ghost town. Even when my wife and I were producing shows in different venues with just the two of us, it wasn’t this quiet.

And I know that a lot of people are experiencing this at their workplaces and homes, especially if they live alone. And I feel for them. Many of us, especially in theatre, aren’t equipped for this kind of loneliness, for lack of a better word. And the theatre, to me, has always been a place that is so alive. It’s a collaborative art form filled with different voices and ideas. But for right now, for my part, it’s just me.

I miss the volunteers, the jokes, the music choices, the sound of power tools running in the background;

that sense of life in the space. So, as I build The Quality of Life alone, I am keenly, ironically aware that

that’s what’s missing: Life.

I know that, eventually, it will all go back to normal, and the building will be alive again.

And maybe we’ll be better for it and appreciate it more. I hope.

But right now, it’s too quiet.”

Scroll through below to see the original sketches and designs for our set by designer Charles Eddie Moncrief III

(and visit his website to see more of his work here!)