Nevertheless, she persisted.
Whispers behind the curtain
As the performance winds it way
Skillful facade of lean too frames
Thus the audience is transported
And the Stage Director never appears.
the story of an empty Diary:
I can feel her growth in the pages that were left behind. A theatrical resume of her time behind the scenes and the stage. Pages of notes and designs left in a dumpster. The trash didn’t matter to her, the school year was done and she was going back to her small town in Michigan. Time in the big city had come to an end, and she purged the memory.
It was the diary that made me pause. To see an unfinished moment of time, left for reasons that only she knew. The Stage Manager wrote her name on the back of the front cover, and didn’t write another thing. Who can blame her? Opera theater is more time consuming than her first year. This wasn’t the small time half amateur productions from back home, so she never had the time.
The story of the diary and Manager is not easy. She still lives a vibrant life, unaware she has become a part of a project. Dumpster Archeology found her papers and unfinished diary in a dumpster at a local University and some lines were crossed. Trespassing for one, invasion of privacy and unauthorized exposure. If this wasn’t Art, it could be considered criminal.
Those early Graffiti artists risked life and limb to push the boundaries, those Abstract artists faced a Russian dictatorship and the punk rock mentality that expresses the complete lack of privacy at the heart of this Dumpster Archeology project.
One supposes in the modern world that no one actually cares for the remnant things one throws into a dumpster.
Who is the Diary writer? That is the question left by these artifacts. A digging around and “a doing” of the thing I am skilled at doing. Finding inspiration in the mundane and expressing the wonder of existence in an artistic heart felt honoring.
The next step made sense to me, as the diary itself called out. “Fill me with memory” it said. That is the purpose of a diary after all, and the little diary, with a beautiful floral print wanted to be used. I didn’t want to fill it with any old story, after all… her name is written in it. I wanted to fill it with her life.
It doesn’t take much to find out an awful lot…. about a person. A name and a location, then their life becomes available online, depending on their particular social proficiency, it becomes a matter of quantity. She was the right age for that facebook history, the instagram photos and a public record. There she is smiling behind the scenes, excitingly writing about her lastest adventure in theater.
Combine that with the discovered resume and we got a big story. I know where she went to high school and the tiny roles she had. Community theater gave her confidence and experience and with each performance, her roles grew. Musicals were her cat nip.
While she was working on a degree, and still working the academic theatre world, she was a stage hand and master carpenter. Next came the summertime and she had a few months back in the old bedroom, hanging out as an “adult”, world traveled now, and letting go of the stress. Fall was months away and the whole cycle began again, with no time to fill out that little diary.
Nevertheless ..she persisted.
The front cover had those words and I understood what kind of person she was. Her dreams were coming true. She was doing what she loved. The Stage Manager was an inspiration to me and the little diary wanted to be filled with her memory.
Printing Instagram photos is easy. First road trip to St Louis with her mother is there. The School itself got some love from the camera. She loved ice cream and regularly posted her favorites. There is a photo of her team from the Community Theater gigs and her desk covered with stage designs and scrips. There are some her best friends who came to visit and those happy moments when she watched a sunset, was missing home and wishing there was more snow in St Louis.
The diary has a certain time-line to it, set by the public online persona of our Stage director. It is a movement from student into thespian. The internet is full of stage production photos, crew shots, and bill art work to discover. The clippings went into the diary, as did the little “likes”, hyper links and social media advertising. The diary wasn’t just a diary anymore, it became art.
Someday the Stage manager might be a famous director, working in New York, or maybe she moves back home to do what she loves, where she loves. Someday she might find out she became an art project. The diary is hers and she can have it back. It is her memory and her life.
The dairy will return to it’s owner some day.
In the meantime there is this parable, about a diary tossed away unfulfilled. A tale of its transformation from trash to art. A story of a student who persisted in becoming exactly what she dreamed she could become. A modern day hero, who transgressed the unknowable, and was captured in a side glance from a public losing it’s own little stories to the fabrication of mass media.
Everything discovered about this person was found online, all the stories are public record, her name is unpublished, her life unhampered, as the questions surrounding her privacy boil down to one name written in a diary, tossed in the trash. Do the means justify the end?
The Diary of a stage Manager IS a story about privacy, a freedom and right, we collectively toss away every time we post on social media, allow an app access to our phones or throw away our private information. Thankfully the aim of the story is too honor and be inspired by a person succeeding in their dreams and leaving behind a Diary filled with experience and beauty.