Speaking as an actor, to actors. That applause is not just for you.
You’ve just finished a show. You’re sweaty. You’re potentially covered in blood. (could be fake or real in all honesty) Your adrenaline is pumping, but you know you’re going to be exhausted as soon as the high wears off. You take a deep breath and take to the stage one final time with your cast to bow and receive the applause from the audience for a job well done. But here’s the thing. That applause? It’s not just yours to keep. It’s not your applause.
That applause belongs to the set designers and builders and painters who put the stage in another world through plywood and foam. It belongs to the lighting designers, the stage hands that hung those heavy things hanging above your head and focus them every night, whose invisible job supports the mood and story telling of every scene. To the sound designers and assistants who not only make you heard, but create an atmosphere before, during, and after the show that fits the bill to a T. The applause is for the costume designers, drapers, stitchers, and dressers, the wig and makeup designers and techs, who made your body into someone else’s out of nothing. The applause is for the stage managers and deck crew and props team who make magic and order out of ropes and chaos every night. It’s for the front of house team and box office who marketed and sold the actual tickets and handled every single patron complaint imaginable to make sure they could focus and enjoy the performance. It’s for the director who made innumerable decisions left, right, and center to create one cohesive piece. It’s for the playwright who crafted the words coming from your lips.
Let’s face it, without those people you would be in street clothes on a dark, empty stage and an empty house. Honestly, you’d probably be locked out because you don’t have any keys. You’d be in your living room, alone, because without the director you may have never met your cast mates. So? What do you do about that? If the applause isn’t only for you and the people it should go to don’t get to stand onstage and receive it, what can you do about that? A lot, actually.
I’m not saying you need to approach everyone whilst aggressively clapping at them. Simply appreciate them. Thank your crew and SM for all that they do and respect their requests of you. Maybe buy some treats for your house team and box office staff. Appreciate your director and follow their instructions. Don’t get to meet anyone else? Champion them in other ways. Perhaps ask your Stage Manager if a note can be sent to your designers. Direct audience members who loved a design to their website to look at their other work and maybe drop them a line. Support sound designers in their campaign for the sound Tony awards to return. Be an advocate for change in the theatre and demand better pay for those who are currently not being heard.
This is not to say that actors don’t deserve any applause. They do! We don’t just show up and play pretend. We work hard at honing our craft, prep work, rehearsal, emotional vulnerability, physical exhaustion, memorization, and spontaneity to bring a story to it’s full life. But because we are the ones on stage when the audience leaps to its collective feet and shouts in praise, we can be led to think of ourselves as more important than anyone else involved, which is simply not true. We are all equal partners in the biggest group project ever. So, advocate for all theatre artists, onstage and off. Give them the respect and thanks that they deserve. And, if you can, donate to the Actor’s Fund in this time of need.