As we work along in our careers we move from venue-to-venue, work with various supervisors, many different Performers, Stage Managers, Directors, and show support personnel. With each comes a ‘reputation’, a ‘history’, and your own personal experience with that person. Sometimes the place / person’s history is interesting and worthy of asking questions about, some have reputations of being prima-donnas and being difficult to work with, while others are humble and helpful.

It’s a two-way street. You, too, have a history and reputation. Maybe it is time for some soul-searching to find-out what that truly is. We all like to think that we leave a legacy of great work behind and that everyone that follows at the venue will say “Gee, that Harry was such a great guy. So creative, patient, and helpful.” The truth can be ugly.

I recently came to a venue where the former director was held in high regard. They had been there since the building opened, and everybody thought the shows were wonderful. I didn’t know this person. I hadn’t been under their spell. My view was objective. I didn’t see the same thing. Was this person’s legacy a myth, or a reality? It was a bit of both, but it took a bit of digging to find out.

What the staff saw was the magic created. What I saw was about 4 tons of fuel load stored onstage. What the staff saw was students transformed into performers. What I saw was a make-shift theatre plant where everything was cobbled together to make-do for what whatever show was being produced at that moment. What the audience saw was a fairly well lit stage. What I saw was students put as risk of falling from the ceiling to get to poorly rigged lighting that was electrically hazardous.

Striking a balance with how we mount shows and plan budget expenditures is part of the juggling act we must do to make art, and do it safely. It can’t all be about the show (although it would be convenient); some of what we do must include managing our resources so that we teach safe operational practices to both our students and our administrators. Allowing your theatre to become a pack-rat paradise does a disservice to the students, and places the building and people at risk.

The battle cry I hear most is “there is never enough time to clean-up and put things away”. I say: Balderdash. If you have a one hour class, then schedule it for 50 minutes, and use the last 10 minutes to tidy-up. Plan work to include the final step of tossing-out the unneeded, putting up the tools (properly, checking that they are still usable). One of the key advantages to not keeping every darn set piece and prop ever created is that it provides you with more room to work. Let’s face it: There is never enough storage space anyway, why make it worse?

This does not diminish the theatre experience. It helps the staff / students to budget their time, keep a tidy workspace, and to understand that fuel loads must be kept to a minimum. It is part of the process, not an extra burden. Recycling extra materials is cleaning-up, and teaches being sustainable, too. Not killing students or audience members is also being sustainable (it makes it difficult to get more of either if loose some).

One of the legacies you can bring to your work can be to teach respect for property and time. Neither should be abused. When you teach people to take care of their building (play space) and always operate under policies that place the well-being of the audience and workers first, it develops self-respect in everyone. People with good self-respect instill that quality in others. It’s quite contagious.

So, what do you want your former work associates and students to say about you? What is your legacy going to be?