Krissi, which was short for "Christina," and Trissi, which was short for "Tricia" which was short for "Patricia," almost tripped over each other while dancing.
"No, no, no," the director shouted from in front of the stage. "You two need to spread out. Step forward, onto the proscenium."
"The what?" Krissi said. The other actresses in the company shook their heads. A few giggled, but most looked at the two of them with disgust.
"Take five, everyone," the director said, rubbing his forehead. "You two, get down here."
As the rest of the cast hurried backstage for coffee, Krissi and Trissi walked around the side of the stage, down some small steps, and into the theater's front row, where the director waited, along with the assistant director, the music director, and the script coordinator. By this point in rehearsals, Krissi and Trissi had taught themselves to ignore the theater's three-story high ceiling, with its ornate art deco carvings.
"I thought you two were professionals," the director said.
"We are," Trissi said.
"Quick, define 'stage right.'"
"Is that when everyone rushes on stage and freezes?" Krissi said. "Because they're right on stage?"
"Wait here," the director said. He walked up the aisle and into the theater lobby.
"I think 'stage right' means left," Trissi said.
"I thought that, too," Krissi said. "But then I thought it was too obvious."
The director returned with two identical books. He gave them to Krissi and Trissi. The covers read, A Glossary of Acting.
"This is a children's book," Krissi said.
"Get reading, because I'm going to quiz you first thing in the morning. Get one wrong, and you're out of a job."
"You can't," Krissi said. "You have no idea how hard it is to get a job in this city, and even harder to find a job acting."
"I grew up here in Theater City," the director said. "I've seen this town go to Hell over the years. In the days when the old theaters drew in thousands of tourists, the two of you never would have been cast. But, yeah, times have changed. It's tough out there. That's why I'm giving you a second chance and not firing you both on the spot for not knowing what you're doing."
Krissi and Trissi took the books.
"Starting tomorrow morning, you two are going to have the basics down," the director said. "Next time I tell you to step out to the proscenium, you'll know what that means."
"OK," Krissi said. She and Trissi started walking toward the stage.
"Oh, no," the director said. "You two sit right down here and start studying."
As they sat in the front row and started flipping through the books, Krissi and Trissi heard a few chuckles from their fellow actors on stage.
"Listen up, everyone," the director said to the rest of the cast. "Let's skip this number and go straight to the start of the next scene. Ready on organ?"
"Ready," came the voice of the organist backstage.
The sound of the theater's giant antique pipe organ boomed throughout the entire building. Krissi and Trissi didn't marvel at the perfect acoustics, and instead sat there with their books.
As the night wore on, the two actresses found themselves watching rehearsal more than studying. When the other performers and staff went home for the night, the director instructed them to stay behind and keep studying.
"When you think you've got it all, old Artie will let you out," he said before he left.
"This is stupid," Trissi said. "Acting is about becoming another person. It's about letting our imaginations take over. It's not about 'stage right' or 'exeunt' or the 'pro-scene.'"
"That's 'proscenium,'" came a voice from on stage. The theater's elderly janitor stood there, sweeping with a large broom.
"Hey, Artie," Trissi said.
"Evening," he said. "And it's Arthur, if you don't mind. Now what's this about the proscenium?"
"We have to memorize all these stupid definitions," Krissi said. "According to these kids' books, the proscenium is the space in between the curtain and the end of the stage."
"It's a lot more than that," Arthur said. "Why don't you two come up here?"
The girls dropped their books and walked up onto the stage, where Arthur stood right on its edge. Krissi and Trissi joined him there.
"This is the proscenium, truly," he said. "If the curtain were closed right now, it would be at our backs. The three of us could act out an entire drama, right here on this space, if that were the playwright's intentions."
Krissi nodded. "That's what I said. The space in between."
"Look up," Arthur said. "Follow the edge of the stage, from your feet to where it meets the wall in front of the curtain. Let your eyes flow up. See where it turns at 90 degrees and then meets at the keystone right above your heads."
"The ceiling goes up so much higher than the edge of the stage," Krissi said.
"Same as backstage," Trissi said. "It goes up to all those old catwalks that no one ever uses."
"This," Arthur said, "is the proscenium arch. For the audience, it frames the action on stage. For the actors, the proscenium provides comfort, a space to create illusion, allowing the impossible to come to life through the performance. The proscenium watches over its theater. Protects it, in its way."
"Wow," Krissi said.
"If you want to impress your director, you won't just memorize definitions. You'll be able to tell him why each aspect of the theater is important and how it makes your performance come alive in front of the audience."
"Yeah," Krissi said. "Let's go pull an all-nighter and really learn this stuff."
They walked around the side of the stage, gathered their books and other belongings. Before they left, Trissi walked up to the stage, where Arthur was again sweeping.
"How do you know so much, Artie?" she asked.
"I've learned a thing or two from years of cleaning up after kids like you," he said. "And it's Arthur, please."
"Thanks, Artie!" Trissi said. The two of them waved and blew him kisses as they left.
Arthur locked the door after the girls left, leaving him alone in thebuilding. He exhaled with relief. Now he could finally get to work.
# # # #
Next: One night in Theater City.