by Brian Russell

Created on: January 02, 2007   Last Updated: May 02, 2007

In beginning work for a book in process with the working title, PRACTICING THEATER, a friend and colleague asked me a simple question. Here is the question and my answer:

What is your first memory of theater?

Why is a seemingly so simple question so difficult to answer? I have several competing early memories of theater rushing into my head. And many of them, indeed the most vivid ones, are not necessarily what we traditionally think of as "theater."

Competing for the title of "first" or "of first importance" are memories such as my serving as the ringmaster of a school circus at age 6, decked out in black pants, a white shirt, a red coat with shiny gold buttons, and of course, a top hat. This circus took place in the gymnasium of Sidway Elementary School in Grand Island, NY and the audience of parents and siblings gathered to watch tumbling and magic and mostly beam with pride at the sight of their kids.

Another memory is of a funeral that my siblings and I held for a groundhog that had been killed by our dog, Sheltie. With great earnestness, we made costumes using capes and approximated clerical attire and built a cross out of fallen tree branches, sticks, and leaves before embarking upon a procession up a long hill to a clearing in the woods where we buried the unfortunate groundhog. Each participant had a role, of mourner, of undertaker, of distant groundhog relative; I played the priest. Which is perhaps not surprising as I recall another memory that is probably winning out as my "first" (read: most significant) memory of theater:

Tenebrae at St. Martin-in-the-Fields, the Episcopal church where my father was rector.

Tenebrae is the name given to the service held on Good Friday, the day Christ is said to have been crucified and committed to his tomb in a cave with a large rock moved into place covering the opening for fear that his followers would remove the body and claim resurrection.

This service was a solemn affair, and consisted mostly of a series of readings of various bible passages. The large cross over the altar was completely covered in sheer black fabric, as was each cross in the church. The lights were very dim with most illumination provided by many candles. Through the course of the service, candles were extinguished, leaving only a few candles remaining. At this point, the acolyte assisting the pastor (a position I held for many years) would remove himself to into a changing room off the sacristy exiting stage right.

After the Priest read the

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