(essay)

In our theater it is not customary to rant a lot about your past life. Looking at some of the troupe workers, it’s even hard to say that they once had a life before the theater.

Dion picked us all from the bottom of the generally accepted normal way of life, seeing in us the potential in one area or another. Rumor has it that make-up artist Maryam was taken by Dion from the dumpster of New York’s poorest neighborhood when she fought with another homeless man over a piece of blooming bread. And Hugh, the costume designer, was persuaded to join the troupe when he was 16 trading on the black market. Everyone has their own “dark side,” which in one way or another was useful in the work of the theater. After all, Dion knew that in addition to their skills, fantasies and time, his subordinates would give him their souls. In the truest sense of this meaning…

We couldn’t be called a family. But we had nowhere to go. We had no relatives and friends outside the theater walls. There was no house or work. We only had the theater. And everything suited everyone.

Despite the fact that everybody completely trusted Dion, they still stared at me. But I’m used to sideways glances. When I was immediately given the lead role in the main cast, the looks in my direction softened, but their message remained just as firm. Everyone was expecting something from me. And they didn’t want to reveal all the features of the theater.

“You’re still new and don’t understand people well. It’s too early to initiate you into the ‘behind the scenes,’” Ida pushed me out of such explanations.

Ida was the main after Dion, although she was only 19 years old. She entered the troupe when she was 12, and after her first performance, she was dubbed “the greatest talent of her age among aspiring actresses.”

She felt glory to the public and responsibility to the theater. Therefore, she did everything for the prosperity of the stage and the safety of the “behind the scenes.”

And when I say “everything,” I really mean “everything.”