After living in England for my senior year of college, I loved England so much that I wished to spend the rest of my life there. As soon as I had two years of teaching experience in the United States, I applied to all seven American schools in England. One of the schools had an opening, so I interviewed for the job of an English teacher in London. They liked the fact that I was fluent in Spanish, since they were short on foreign language teachers, too. So I taught English literature, with one Spanish class thrown in. I also directed the middle school play.
I chose “Fiddler on the Roof” because I acted in that play when I was a child, so I was thoroughly familiar with it. I had to pay to rent the scripts (since we were in London, royalties had to be paid each time a play was produced), and my friend who was an art teacher helped me to dream up the scenes and costumes. We went to yard sales to find everything. Each set was absolutely perfect. Nothing looked fake.
I remember trying to keep quiet the fact that I was planning to use live fire during the wedding scene. I figured it would be b
etter to apologize than to ask permission, since the whole mood of the scene relied on the candles being walked down the aisle. It was an absolutely stunning scene. I never got in trouble for using live fire.
However, my poor ghosts nearly choked to death on the dry ice fumes in the cemetery scene. Some unknown person threw the dry ice into a huge pot of boiling water, and a column of smoke rose up only seconds before the curtain opened. My husband (who was just a friend back then) fixed the situation, and the scene ended up being flawless. The mother and father were standing to the side with a spotlight on them, holding a lantern, in their white pajamas and nightcaps. The scene looked beautiful.
I absolutely loved those kids. They acted their hearts out, and during the intermission, I walked into the dressing room, and you could hear a pin drop as they looked at m
e with wide eyes. I said, “That was… fantastic!” They all exploded into applause and danced around cheering. As far as I remember, not a single person missed their lines during the first half of the play. I was astounded at how good they were.
During the scene where the father disowns his daughter, I actually got a lump in my throat. They captured the emotion of that scene.
At the end of the play, when the audience gave me a standing ovation, it nearly made me dizzy. It was surreal. A real director from London congratulated me for editing the play well. He knew the scenes, he knew what I had cut, and he said I had done an expert job directing as well. I didn’t know what to say. It could have easily been a complete flop. We’re talking about kids. Anything can happen. The whole auditorium could have gone up in flames. But, no… God was good to me.
Tags: England, Fiddler on the Roof, theater
