It’s interesting to me that we leave so many places in this life and never get a chance to return. I drove past the Riverview Theatre last weekend. It was all boarded up and looked like it had been in that state for quite some time. 1983, I think it was that year when I first stepped into the Riverview Theatre. When you are 14 you think every building you enter has always been there and will always be there. The lobby was rich in red draperies and the smell was almost spooky. It smelled like an old movie – it smelled like memories in the making. It was smelled like magic. It really stunk. And I loved it. Trailing my father’s soft footsteps, we entered the theatre together on that first day. He had seen an audition notice in the paper and insisted that I audition. I was nervous – I was a teenager in the body of a 30 year old with the mind of a child. I was scared and self conscious on that day, but I smiled and sang while my father proudly watched from the back row. I remember what I sang. I am just too embarrassed to share that part. I sang with a loud and commanding (and most likely slightly off –key voice) but no matter. It was thrilling and I had fun. The theatre itself was truly a continuation of the lobby. In my memory it looks like an old vaudeville joint. Red drapes and the smell and everything else. That was also the day I met Paul Dicklin. Paul was tall – that is the first thing I remember – he was a slender, man of about 40. His eyes were weathered and kind – with just enough sparkle in them to be mysterious. You know that feeling when you meet someone for the first time and you just know it is a significant moment in your life? That is how I felt that day, about the theater and about Paul. Now they are both gone from sight but somehow they are here in my memory almost stronger and grander than they were in life. Passing by that theatre just reminded me that there are some places we don’t have to return to because the best parts are already – and will always be – with us.Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Busy Week -So here is a short story I wrote - Comments welcome!
It’s interesting to me that we leave so many places in this life and never get a chance to return. I drove past the Riverview Theatre last weekend. It was all boarded up and looked like it had been in that state for quite some time. 1983, I think it was that year when I first stepped into the Riverview Theatre. When you are 14 you think every building you enter has always been there and will always be there. The lobby was rich in red draperies and the smell was almost spooky. It smelled like an old movie – it smelled like memories in the making. It was smelled like magic. It really stunk. And I loved it. Trailing my father’s soft footsteps, we entered the theatre together on that first day. He had seen an audition notice in the paper and insisted that I audition. I was nervous – I was a teenager in the body of a 30 year old with the mind of a child. I was scared and self conscious on that day, but I smiled and sang while my father proudly watched from the back row. I remember what I sang. I am just too embarrassed to share that part. I sang with a loud and commanding (and most likely slightly off –key voice) but no matter. It was thrilling and I had fun. The theatre itself was truly a continuation of the lobby. In my memory it looks like an old vaudeville joint. Red drapes and the smell and everything else. That was also the day I met Paul Dicklin. Paul was tall – that is the first thing I remember – he was a slender, man of about 40. His eyes were weathered and kind – with just enough sparkle in them to be mysterious. You know that feeling when you meet someone for the first time and you just know it is a significant moment in your life? That is how I felt that day, about the theater and about Paul. Now they are both gone from sight but somehow they are here in my memory almost stronger and grander than they were in life. Passing by that theatre just reminded me that there are some places we don’t have to return to because the best parts are already – and will always be – with us.
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7 comments:
This made me tear up!
love and hugs,
(:ma
How sweet. I do indeed remember that day and suspected that you might have forgotten it. I even remember others whose auditions we sat through while waiting for you to perform. What impressed me that day, and still does to this day, is how self-assured you were and how your audition "stood out" over the others. Also,I was proud of you for your mature handling of that meeting with Paul. I often drive by that boarded-up theatre and many happy memories come to me.
Love- Pop
Muffy- your piece is beautiful. I spent a significant amount of time at the Riverview, at first to see you in your shows and later I stage managed for Paul. I also taught acting classes there with Hugh and the gang. Thank you for bringing back the smells and the feel for me. Love you.
You need a photo of how it looks today! Pop, get busy :)
Great story! It really rekindled my memories of Norfolk theater days.
Thanks for everyone's sweet comments. It didn't even occure to me that another nice thing about missing a place that is no longer there is that you are not alone in missing it - I am glad we get to share those memories together.
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