The last pancake night.

Every Tuesday some company members have gotten together at Katherine's place to have pancakes and hang out.



The past few Tuesdays we've retired to the living room for a rousing game of Catch Phrase, and last night was no exception.



Working summer stock has always struck me as something very unique to theatre, while at the same time being essential to maintaining the art form. Instead of waiting tables or working at a fast food place, I've traveled across the country to work a job that doesn't pay particularly well while living in a frat house that isn't particularly luxurious. My coworkers have come from homes ranging from hundreds of miles to hundreds of steps away, all to live and work under the same conditions. But without this, theatre would whither.

The world of theatre is not a big one, but is a well-connected one. As the properties master last summer was so fond of saying: "there are 100 people in the world, and they all do theatre." When I tell someone what my profession is, they usually have a friend of family member who "does something like that." If I want to have any hope of starting my own theatre, I need to know what is working where, and why. More than that, I need to support of everyone I meet at summer stock. While all of this holds true for jobs everywhere, it is especially important for the performing arts. We're a drifting bunch, theatre folk, and I don't know that anyone working around me now will end up working in the same city after Heritage ends.

We will always go where the work is, and considering the shrinking influence theatre is exerting on the world, those places, I fear, will grow fewer and fewer.

So why not know each other?