When The Ghostlight Goes Out
The closing of The Studio Theatre and how it changed my life on the stage
It’s hard to reconcile your feelings with something or someone that you don’t get to say goodbye to.
I’ve experienced this in my personal life with family and friends, abrupt deaths that snatch away the ones we care about with little remorse, and the quiet dying of a kinship that you considered close but now feels unreachable.
With the official announcement of The Studio Theatre’s closing, I’m drawn back to the memories it helped me create, the friendships that were renewed and found there, and the confidence that was instilled in me to know that I am worthy of the roles I want to portray on the stage.
Justin Pike and I first met during our run of The Producers at Argenta Contemporary Theatre (at the time, “Community” was acting as the ‘C’ in the name). We laughed over realizing that I was the son of Bethany, who’d gone back to UCA to finish her degree and attended during the same time as Justin, along with other greats like Chad Bradford, Sharon Combs, and many others.
As the curtain closed on Max and Leo’s story, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever run into Justin again. A fresh-faced babe in the community theatre scene, how would I know? It was only until months later that I would come to realize The Studio Theatre was going to come calling and become my second home for the next year of my life.
TST put me through the ringer of shows, from Beautiful: The Carole King Musical to Rock of Ages to Legally Blonde; each one was a trial of perseverance in its own right. But with each show, I learned more about the community that built the grounds on which we now walk, who led the charge, and who continue to break the molds of traditional theatre. I learned that word travels faster than light among my peers and production teams, that no matter the intention, all of our words have a powerful impact on the individual and community as a whole.
I was given the chance to work alongside so many amazing, talented people both on and off the stage, learning choreography, shooting social content, devising a fully haunted experience, and so much more.
I had the opportunity to work alongside the Board and learn so much more about the “in’s and out’s” of what it takes to make such a powerful creature like a theatre operate, and operate well. Time and again, I was proven right in knowing that the stage was where I felt most comfortable, and it allowed me to create memories and friendships that will last ten lifetimes over.
It feels like a distant dream now, but to say that I spent part of a year under the tutelage and guidance of some of the most amazing people around this little family of ours would be an understatement.
The last time I stepped through Studio’s doors, I felt more like a buzzard than an actor, picking clean the bones of something I already felt in my heart may never return. I carried with me shirts from my favorite role as Lonny, a handful of librettos and music books for future use, a sweater or two to remember her by…
I regret not giving her a proper farewell.
So, as so many have already said, I know our journey ahead should be lined with a few guideposts to help each and every one of us:
Put your faith, energy, effort, and most importantly, funds into the arts. They continue to create spaces that no other community can duplicate.
Remember that a rising tide lifts all ships. We are so small, in the grand scheme of things, and what we can continue to do moving forward is support each other and our combined practices to “make good” in the world.
Show up. Actors, producers, directors, PAs, MDs, stagehands, lighting designers, costumers, set designers, you name it. Your skills and talent are so welcome in each and every theatre, so keep showing up and showing out.
Studio, you beautiful queen, you’ll be missed by so many.
Take your final bow and know that you have been loved by years and years of patrons and practitioners.
Here’s to you, TST.