What if I told you every high school theatre kid likely has access to an excellent training ground where they can grow their performing abilities, learn important music skills, and get valuable practice with performing, all for free?
School choir is a stellar opportunity for growth that all high school theatre kids should take advantage of! Here are five ways joining school choir will make you a better, more accomplished performer.
1. You learn to read music better
Being able to read music is an extremely valuable skill for musical theatre actors. Reading music helps you learn it faster and understand it better. This means easier music rehearsals and easier audition prep!
Whether you have no experience reading music or are a sight-reading expert, practice will always be necessary to keep your skills sharp, and the more practice the better! You’ll have plenty of friends and a choir director to assist you if you get confused. Since you most likely won’t have to learn any blocking or choreography (unless you’re in a show choir), choir is an opportunity to focus on the music. You’ll be able to digest complicated pieces without having to worry about anything else.
I know a lot of performers who wish they could read music better. It’s a useful skill, and school is the perfect place to learn it!
2. You learn more about your voice… For free
Voice lessons can be expensive and therefore aren’t accessible to everyone. School choirs, on the other hand, are usually free, unless they require concert attire purchases or entrance fees for music and other materials. If there is a price for participating in school choir, the value in return for those dollars is likely pretty high– whereas voice lessons will typically be $20-$30 per lesson minimum, a daily choir class for 180 days of school that requires a one-time concert outfit purchase would probably amount to less than a dollar per session.
Of course, the one-on-one training in voice lessons is indispensable, but working with a good choir director and learning all you can about singing and your voice within that setting is a fantastic alternative. If you have specific questions or want specific help, your choir teacher should be able to help you out.
Choir settings are specifically useful to beginner singers because choir singing can explore a variety of styles and musical concepts while emphasizing principles of vocal technique. Choir is the first place many young performers learn about breath support, posture, and the vocal process, and is therefore a great place to begin training. More advanced choirs and more difficult repertoire can provide advanced singers with adequate challenge to improve as well.
3. You get more practice singing and performing
All practice is good practice! It’s generally true that if you want to become a better singer or performer, then any extra singing or performing you do is probably beneficial in that regard.
Live performance opportunities are extremely worthwhile for performers. The more you perform in front of an audience, the better you learn to deal with stage fright and focus. Practicing singing in a group is also incredibly valuable, as it requires some different skills than singing alone does– group singing is all about listening and balancing with the individual performers around you.
One of the benefits to choir participation I found when I was in school was that each choir rehearsal was essentially a mandatory daily warmup. My voice was in great shape when I was in choir– I never had a real chance to get “rusty!”
4. You train your ear with complicated harmonies
Learning to sing with others is a challenging skill. Learning different voice parts can be really difficult, and some musical theatre composers are notoriously challenging in this regard.
Choir music is written in often intricate patterns of rhythm and harmony. If you can hold your own singing in a choir, you’ll build skills that will allow you to hold your own while performing shows by tricky composers like Sondheim. And again, since choir is about the music first rather than blocking or choreography, you have the opportunity to really focus on building the skills you need to tackle any complex voicing in a musical.
5. You might not get this chance again
There really aren’t that many opportunities to sing in a choir once you get out of school.
Church choirs can be found in almost any town, so this is an accessible option if you attend church. Many cities have various choral societies, but these are often by audition, and your participation isn’t guaranteed. Almost every school has a choir, and school choirs are some of the most accessible choirs you’ll ever come across.
I don’t particularly miss much about high school, but getting to sing with a choir is definitely something I wish I could revisit as an adult.
Take advantage of this opportunity while you have it!
Even adults struggle with the trials of casting. For most people, auditions are a huge source of anxiety, and of course they are: auditions are a bit like a job interview, except you’re expected to sing and dance in front of the hiring manager.
Not getting the part you want can be absolutely crushing. It’s hard not to take rejection in acting personally, because acting is such a personal activity. You stand on stage and do things the way you think you should, in your body, using your voice. You’re out on a limb! But the nature of theatre is that not everyone can get the part they want. After all, there are only so many parts, and casting is often a wildly unpredictable endeavor. Being passed over for a role you worked hard for or really wanted can feel like a deep betrayal.
Understandably, this is hard for young actors to deal with. It’s not uncommon for young kids to be cast in an ensemble role, quit the show, and never perform again as a result. This is a really unhappy outcome.
Even if they don’t get the part they want, they’re still getting a great opportunity.
Even if they’re only in the ensemble, they’re still going to have a good time.
And they have the chance to learn an extremely valuable lesson.
No matter what, auditioning alone is a rewarding process. The thing is, actors can’t savor those rewards if they think every casting process was rigged or unfair.
In fact, learning to take rejection gracefully is one of the more valuable lessons theatre can teach. If your kid is interested in acting, they will have to learn to take rejection… and they’ll also need that skill for when they’re applying to jobs and colleges, beginning to date, and navigating the challenges of adulthood.
Discovering how to take rejection– maybe even what your child interprets as a failure— as a fact of life, and possibly even a learning opportunity, is an important part of becoming a successful adult.
Parental guidance can have a big impact on how productive casting decisions are. You can remind your child that they haven’t failed, and that just auditioning was a brave thing to do. You can remind them that casting is a complicated process, and that sometimes we just can’t control whether or not we get the things we want. We can try our best to improve our skills and be the best people we can be– we can’t change anyone else, though.
If you’re like me, these are lessons you’re still learning in adulthood. It may not feel like it at first, but what a gift to begin to understand these ideas early in life! Navigating them now can reduce a lot of heartache later.
Encouraging your child to stick with the show builds commitment. It will likely teach them that something that seems like a bummer at first can turn out to be a great opportunity– a door closes, a window opens. But it’s not just about accepting the role and muddling through the show. Entering the show with a negative attitude is possibly even worse than quitting. Kids won’t learn that way, and they won’t have fun. Worse, the production staff is likely to see the negativity, which can be more damaging in the long run. This is a good time for children to learn that integrity, mindset, and reputation are important.
And if your child has a genuine interest in performing, then any performing opportunity is a useful one. Child actors tend to balk at being “only ensemble,” but the ensemble is an amazing learning opportunity for young actors. Ensemble actors are often some of the busiest in a production. They typically play multiple roles in a production, meaning actors have to juggle many different scenes, roles, and costume changes. They’ll have to learn a lot of music and choreography. Further, ensemble roles have the benefit of being open for any interpretation. “Townsperson” is not just an inactive person on stage, they are a living, breathing part of the show’s universe– and they have to be acted as such! For creative kids, this is an amazing outlet. Kids can develop entire backstories and personalities for their ensembles roles and act them as appropriate. Not only does this flex creative muscles, it also builds up acting skills, arguably even more so than a “bigger” part. It requires them to think outside the box and portray an entirely new character in entirely their own way.
When your kid is cast in an ensemble role, stress that this is a good opportunity and a very important task. Explain how it can be creative and help your child develop a character all their own. Make sure they know that this is a fantastic opportunity to learn new acting skills!
What if your child auditions and just doesn’t like their part? Maybe they wanted to be Belle, but ended up being Mrs. Potts instead. When this happens, you have to stress the importance of the entire cast. Every character is important, and every character can still be fun. It’s important to note that many kids don’t realize the size of their part when they’re cast. Almost every little girl wants to play Ariel in The Little Mermaid, but Flounder, Sebastian, and the Mersisters get to sing songs that are way more fun than Ariel’s anyway, like “She’s in Love” and “Under the Sea.” Often, a kid just needs time to grow into the role, and will find they enjoy it later.
Many of my adult actor friends say “side characters” are their favorite roles to play– you get your own moments to shine, but it’s also a lot less pressure to perform, and easier to learn. It’s the best of both worlds!
I think it’s important to also note that directors value their entire cast. When even one actor quits, it can really shake up a director’s plans. Getting cast as a role you didn’t want can be hurtful, but quitting as a result hurts everyone else! Many directors are wary to cast actors who are known to quit in these situations, as it can make the actor seem unreliable. Quitting can have negative repercussions for years to come.
The bottom line is that your child will almost undoubtedly end up enjoying the experience of the show. Encourage them to stick with it, and they’ll be glad they did! It is very important you not let your child quit when they don’t like their part! This sends a really strong message about work ethic. You can’t always quit your job or your classes just because you don’t like them. You shouldn’t always quit your hobbies as soon as they become difficult or frustrating. Although there’s a lot of value in letting kids have agency and make choices, parents guiding their children through this decision can be instrumental for helping kids grow. Quitting sends the message that some roles are unimportant and that kids can back out of things they’ve committed to, and it will hurt the rest of the cast. Help them see the value in sticking it out. They’ll thank you eventually!
I wanted to try something a little lighter and sillier for a change– I thought it might be fun to start sharing some stories from past performances. I certainly have a wealth of them.
One of my favorites from high school is from my sophomore year. I was playing a character who wore a big, oversized robe, with long sleeves that dragged almost to the floor. The robe was heavy and made of thick, bulky fabric.
The Thursday before our Friday opening night at our school was always our “preview night,” a a night with limited attendance, reserved for school faculty, production volunteers, and the actors and staff of our district’s middle school drama department. It was always an exciting night– the promise of getting to show off in front of our favorite teachers and next year’s freshmen was especially thrilling to our teenage sensibilities.
And this preview night was going great! I was feeling confident and in my element. The whole cast was having a blast.
In one scene, an actor came on stage holding a hat she had worn in the first scene. (The hat also had some fake hair extensions hidden in it– the character was supposed to “cut her hair” between scenes.) During the course of the scene, I would pass this actor a silver platter, and she would take both the hat and the platter offstage with her. This would leave my hands free to perform my big solo to close the scene.
On this night, I hand the actor the platter. After doing this, I’m blocked to turn to another actor, who was standing on my other side. I do so, and I feel an odd tugging on my sleeve. I pull my arm away, and I notice the actor I’m now talking to has a funny look on her face. But I am an *actor*, and I am in the zone, and I do not break character! My character admonishes both of the others, and they exit.
Then it’s time for my solo. It’s fabulous! The audience is hanging on my every word! The energy is magnificent. They’re laughing at all the right moments, and when I finish the song, I get wild laughter and applause. I turn to walk off the stage, and there is a cluster of faces visible in the wing, staring at me.
Funny.
I get backstage, and before I can ask what’s going on, the actor who had given me the funny look earlier grabbed my sleeve and lifted it up.
Attached to the bottom, swinging from pins covered in fake hair extensions, is the first actor’s hat, complete with locks of fake hair. When I had passed her the silver platter, the hat had become attached to my sleeve. She’d tried to grab it back, but didn’t want to ruin the flow of the scene (we were in high school, after all, and running on a heady combination of adrenaline, stage fright, and sugar), so she left it. The other actor, too, hadn’t known exactly how to approach the elephant in the room, and so they both left… and left me to sing my entire solo, wildly swinging around the hairy hat attached to my costume.
Well, the audience loved it. And the middle school show’s staff told me they used it as a teaching moment to illustrate the importance of staying in character even when you have a prop or costume mishap. Which… yes, I absolutely knew the hat was there the whole time, and uh… it was absolutely intentional on my part that I didn’t remove it, and it’s definitely a testament to my superior focus as an actor. Yes… for sure, go with that!
My senior year of high school, I was cast as the Witch in Into the Woods. School theatre was my entire life, so I was stoked all through the rehearsal process. Inevitably, though, as we got closer and closer to tech week, I found my boundless, passionate energy beginning to flag. I felt run-down, fatigued, and eventually sick. My voice started to get scratchy, and then started failing altogether. After wrapping the show one night, I found I could barely speak.
This situation is obviously not ideal, and for a number of reasons– I was at risk of serious vocal injury and definitely in need of a good rest. Unfortunately, the nature of performing school or community theatre is that you sometimes don’t have that option.
Vocal strain and fatigue should be taken seriously, as should illness. Your vocal folds are delicate muscles, and pushing through injury and sickness can cause more serious and lasting problems. That said, if you don’t have the option of taking a break just yet, there are things you can do to keep yourself in as healthy shape as possible.
I ended up performing all four of my shows as the Witch without any significant issues. Here are some tips.
Please note that I am not a doctor and this is not medical advice. I am not a voice expert. I am merely a performer speaking from my own experiences. The following are my own opinions.
1. Seriously, take a break if you can
Before you read on, I’m going to double down on the riskiness of “just pushing through.” Hear me out: your voice is a part of you, and injury can potentially cause lifelong vocal problems. Unfortunately, a stressful tech week can be the “perfect storm” of conditions that make injury likely. Plain overuse over a single week isn’t necessarily that likely to lead to a lasting vocal disorder, but overuse isn’t the only factor contributing to vocal strain issues. Tech week likely involves long hours of using the voice, possibly coupled with illness or allergies, or poor air quality inside old, dusty theaters; it probably includes eating less-than-healthy meals and drinking caffeinated beverages that might cause acid reflux; it almost certainly presents a number of miscellaneous stressors that can lead to excessive muscular tension and all the associated complications. These many factors combine and create a situation where serious medical issues associated with the voice may develop.
It’s really worth assessing the options you have. Does your production have an understudy you can rely on– even if only for a single show to allow you some time to recover?
If there isn’t an understudy available to cover for you, I would recommend searching for a certified laryngologist in your area and getting your situation assessed. It may be worth specifically searching for one with experience working with singers and performers.
2. Consider seeing a doctor
A specialized throat doctor called a Laryngologist will be able to tell you how serious any vocal problems you may be experiencing actually are, and can provide suggestions for how to best move forward. If you are genuinely concerned about your voice, this is the best way to know your concerns will be adequately addressed.
If the doctor assesses your situation and finds that it’s not safe to continue performing at this time, they will be able to write a note to any teachers/professors/show staff who may want written record of your condition.
If you are feeling sick (don’t we all inevitably get that terrifying cold halfway through tech week?), you may want to see a doctor to treat that sickness, or take OTC medications as directed. Keeping your immune system in good shape is important, as sickness can make any inflammation, pain, or fatigue you’re experiencing feel worse.
3. Use vocal rest periods to reduce fatigue
Think of your vocal capabilities over the course of the day like a glass of water. There is only so much water in the glass: you’ll want to save some for when you really need it.
When your voice is strained, even speaking can be additional stress for overworked muscles. Periods of vocal rest, where you don’t speak at all, can be very helpful for allowing the voice time to recover. Obviously, this can be hard to achieve, especially if you have a job that requires speaking or are a student who has to attend school during the day, but even staying silent for an hour or two at a time is better than nothing. When you’re not vocal resting, be sure to use your voice mindfully and carefully.
I’ve written another article about vocal rest that goes into further detail. You can read it here.
And if you find the idea of being quiet for hours at a time daunting, I have an article with tips for getting through it here!
Vocal phonation occurs when the vocal folds vibrate together, and those vocal folds are covered in mucosal membranes. Keeping those mucous membranes hydrated is key for easy production of sound.
5. Get plenty of rest
Sleep is a critical bodily function! Sleep is especially important for maintaining and recovering good health. If you’re not feeling your best, rest is absolutely crucial.
Sleep can be hard to get during tech week. If you’re feeling sick, don’t feel guilty about calling out of work or school to get some much-needed extra sleep. If your cast usually goes out after shows, consider skipping this and putting yourself right to bed instead.
6. Use pain relievers mindfully
Remember that treating the pain of a sore throat is not the same as curing it. Taking pain medication (or using a more natural method of pain relief, such as hot tea) will temporarily lessen the pain, but it won’t resolve the underlying issue itself… and resolving that underlying issue is key!
At worst, taking pain relievers can be counterproductive for healing. They can make you think you’re feeling better, so you go on stage and belt your face off, only to feel much worse later that night. Absolutely take medications or your preferred natural remedies as needed– but don’t let the temporary relief lull you into a false sense of security!
7. Communicate with show staff
This one is last because it is MOST IMPORTANT!
Communication is always key in an art form as collaborative as theatre. If you are feeling sick or strained, you must mention this to your stage manager and/or director, music director, voice coaches, or any other relevant staff. This is important for multiple reasons.
First, if you’re feeling sick in rehearsal, it’s a good idea to take it easy so you don’t hurt or exhaust yourself. If you do this, you must communicate with staff. Staff will always understand if you say, “hey, I need to dial it back tonight, my throat is killing me.” If you don’t say anything, they might mistake your gentle choices for lack of effort or care.
Second, it’s just never good to surprise your staff. People both on and offstage depend on audible cue lines. Sound balancing will be shaped around your work in rehearsals. Failing to communicate can lead to unnecessary confusion and frustration.
It also lets your staff know how you’re doing. If you’re feeling so sick that you’re worried you might not make it to the end of the weekend’s performances, your staff needs to know that. They may be able to make plans to help support you, or may even have to make plans to replace you in case of emergency.
The bottom line is that communication is a MUST– even when everyone is feeling healthy!
Final Thoughts
There’s no shame in getting sick or feeling strained during a busy production process, but taking care of yourself to prevent further problems is absolutely necessary. You, and your entire production, will be in much worse shape if your situation goes from bad (a sore, fatigued throat) to really bad (being unable to speak or sing at all) to catastrophe (medical emergency or persistent issues stemming from misuse).
If you don’t do anything else on this list, the most important thing is that you communicate. Always keep your production staff un the loop. You’ll feel better if you make feeling better a priority!
I made my directorial debut for community theatre doing Qui Nguyen’s She Kills Monsters. This is my absolute favorite play, I had long been hoping to put it on one day. When I finally got the opportunity, I was absolutely thrilled– and startled by the sheer amount of work this meant I needed to start on, pronto!
She Kills Monsters is about two sisters getting to know each other (with a twist) through playing Dungeons and Dragons. Like many of Qui Nguyen’s plays, this one is action-packed, full of fighting and off-color humor. The main character, Agnes, and the rest of her party fight against swarms of classic D&D baddies. Creating these monsters can be a real challenge.
Since the show is so popular, I thought others might find it helpful to hear about my process!
First Trial
Initially, I wasn’t sure how exactly I would pull off these monsters… but I’ve always been a crafty person, and I started making plans for my monsters early on (before I even officially knew I’d be directing the show!).
Discovering Wintercroft LLC marked the moment that I knew I could put this show on, even if I didn’t have a dedicated costumer.
Wintercroft designs papercraft templates for masks, jewelry, and home decor. Their masks are really remarkable. The templates are mostly quite easy to assemble (the site provides a difficulty rating and crafting time estimation for each mask– some are harder than others), and very cost effective. The templates generally sell for under $10, and once you own the template, you can print it as many times as desired. The masks themselves are constructed out of thin cardboard (think cereal box material) and glue.
Instead of buying Halloween monster masks at $10-30 bucks a piece (or more), you could hypothetically craft a whole group of monsters for no more than $15 (one template printed multiple times, made with some cereal boxes you scavenged from your pantry, and add the price of some glue sticks).
To test out the process, I decided to use Wintercroft’s Dragon V2 mask as a trial. The process was a lot of fun, and turned out looking pretty good. My mistakes with this first test were using cardstock instead of thin cardboard, and opting for the “untabbed” construction method (explained in the template files), which both created a much floppier final product than I was hoping for.
(My first trial went pretty well, and looked pretty cool, but I had hopes that switching up my method would have even better results.)
So, I went back in for a second test-run, this time using cardboard and trying the “tabbed” construction method.
The basic process, in a nutshell: You print the templates on paper, cut them out, glue them to the cardboard, cut those out, and fold all the pieces on the dotted or dashed lines as appropriate (the templates explain all this, too). Then you use the matching numbers on the edges of the pieces to put the whole thing together, like a puzzle, gluing as you go.
(Some pictures of my second attempt. I used card for this one and had some help from duct tape. Bottom right shows you what the inside of the templates look like– there’s tape over the numbers that show you what piece goes where, but as you can see, the pieces are also lettered.)
This version was a lot sturdier, but I was still a bit unsure of how this would hold up for performance, especially during fight scenes or in the dark backstage. I had horrible visions of someone dropping their mask and stepping on it in a rush.
In searching for solutions, I found this video from Ultimate Paper Mache, explaining the process for super sturdy, quick-drying paper mache using brown paper bags and a specific brand of wood glue. It seemed like exactly what I needed! I’d never done paper mache, but the process seemed really simple (and fun), so I decided to give it a try.
I invested in some wood glue, ripped up some paper bags, and got to work. The process was easy, I just did exactly what the video said– the most time-consuming part was just waiting for the paper mache to dry. I found it seemed the most sturdy after about 24 hours of drying. Materials-wise, I found heavy paper bags (think grocery bags or food delivery bags, like you get from Chipotle or McDonald’s) to be better than paper lunch bags.
One coat of paper mache was pretty solid, but I decided to try doing more to see how sturdy it could get. I did a test with one coat of paper mache on the interior of the mask and two coats on the exterior, and the result was SO sturdy that these masks felt borderline indestructible. For good measure, I sealed everything in with a clear coat of mod podge.
With these tests done, I figured Wintercroft was a really good option for my monster needs. I sent the company an email to ask if it was okay to use their masks in a theatre production, and they gave me the go-ahead! On to phase two…
Plans, Designs, and Further Tests
I started searching for Wintercroft templates that I could use to create the various monsters for the show. Of course, Wintercroft didn’t really have the specific creatures I was looking for, but I was excited about the prospect of using additional cardboard, paper, and mixed media details to really make the templates my own. Using Procreate on my iPad, I started drawing up some plans.
(As a sample, this was the plan for the Bugbears, which ended up being my favorite monsters! I ended up simplifying/changing quite a few elements from this first design, but those mask add-ons are exactly how the final product turned out.)
I decided to try out the process of modifying the masks, so I got started on some Bugbears.
I repeated the same process I did with my test dragon. I made the masks, covered them in paper mache, and sealed everything with mod podge. Then I painted them, sealed the paint with more mod podge, and got started adding some additional details. The teeth were as simple as cutting triangles out of extra cardboard and glueing them into the mouths. I decided to make the ears out of EVA foam (not really sure why when cardboard would’ve worked just as well… but that was also as easy as cutting out shapes and painting them, for the most part).
I decided to get a little more ambitious with the hair pieces. I bought a number of crappy “ponytail extensions” on Wish, all slightly different textures and colors. I handmade a wig for the mask by cutting locks of hair off these extension and gluing these individually to a strip of fabric. I alternated different styles and colors of hair to make the wigs more “wild” and unkempt looking. I also added some lengths of twine (and put some beads on some of these, just for fun) and some strips of different fabrics, to help break up the texture. I liberally applied more glue over all of this and put another piece of fabric down over the top, so I had a sort of hair-fabric sandwich– then, once this was dry, I attached it to the top part of the mask using velcro pieces. I wanted the wigs to be removable, just in case. I repeated this process but with shorter pieces to create beards.
(Miscellaneous process photos of my Bugbears. These were SO FUN. The wigs took a stupid long time, but it feel like the final result was so worth it.)
These turned out pretty much exactly how I’d pictured them, so I was confident that my plans were going to work out. Now I just had to make a whole lot more.
Lots and Lots and Lots of Mask-Making
I finished my planning/designing process and tallied up my monster count: 3 goblins, 3 kobolds, 3 bugbears, 4 liches, 2 mindflayers, a cyclops, and a beholder. I also needed 5 dragon heads for Tiamat (which will be its own post in the future). This was a total of 22 Wintercroft masks. Wintercroft’s website suggests that their masks take somewhere between and hour (for easy masks) to 8+ hours (for hard masks) to build… and that was just to build the mask itself, leaving aside time to paper mache, paint, and adapt the masks to suit my needs. AND that also didn’t account for the rest of the monster’s costumes: the mask was only supposed to be one part of the whole outfit!
Mask-making became a pastime not just for me, but for my whole family, and on a few occasions for some of my co-workers, too. The process of cutting the templates out, gluing them to cardboard, and then cutting the cardboard pieces was so simple that anyone could do it. I was lucky to have a number of helping hands for this step.
The actual assembling of the masks was time-consuming and lot more complicated, so I primarily did this myself. (I had some help to finish assembling the last 2 or 3 at a set build during the rehearsal process– big thanks to my volunteers!) This step took me about a year. My bugbear tests were in September 2021, and I continued to work on masks until the month of the show, November 2022. To be fair, a lot of the construction happened after summer 2022 and was crammed into those few final months, so it’s not like I was crafting nonstop for 14 months.
Some tips and tricks for working on Wintercroft templates I picked up during this time:
If you’re making a lot of creatures, be prepared to gather a LOT of card. You can scavenge this from a LOT of food and household products. Cereal boxes, frozen pizza boxes, tissue boxes— anything along those lines. You want the boxes to be in good shape (not crumpled up/folded). I explained to my coworkers what kind of cardboard I was looking for and asked them to save theirs for me— I ended up with a ton!
I said above that the “card” the templates call for is NOT the same as cardstock. Cardstock could possibly be used for some small details, though— just not for big, structural shapes. If you’re really struggling to collect enough card, you could possibly experiment with this.
I found wood glue to be a really good adhesive when glueing the pieces together. It dries fast and solid. You only need a tiny bit. Use less glue than you think you need, and use your finger to smear it flat on the tabs, so it doesn’t take so long to dry. Glue sticks also work, but maybe not as well.
You have to hold the pieces together while they dry. I found paperclips and chip clips really useful for this— you could glue a piece, throw a chip clip or paper clip onto the spot you’re trying to get to stick together, and set that aside for a minute to dry while you worked on a different piece.
I found a combo of glue and tape to be useful— the tape helped to keep the pieces solid while the glue was still drying down. When I started getting really impatient, I tried to use a stapler when sticking pieces together. I feel like glue and tape/staples together work better than just staples or just tape. I wouldn’t use staples on a mask that has to fit close to the face, though, for fear of someone getting scratched or poked!
In general though, a lot of the mask-making process is just waiting for glue to dry. Podcasts and 8-hour YouTube videos were my best friends during all-nighter crafting sessions.
These templates are very adaptable! You can modify elements of the templates, or Frankenstein some together in some interesting ways. You can also get creative with mixed-media experiments to create some really cool results, like I did with my bugbears. Don’t be afraid to experiment and work with your own ideas. Even a good coat of paint can totally change the vibe of a mask.
Here are some photos of all of my finished Wintercroft monsters:
White dragon- T-Rex x1 (lots of slight modifications to the template for this one)
This was a boatload of work. I can’t say I regret it– I did have fun assembling all these! If I were to do it all again, I would finish more of the construction in advance (cramming most of the work into the last few months before the show was a bad call, lol) and probably enlist some more help.
Garments and Final Touches
Masks were not the extent of my monster plan. Unfortunately, they were much more time consuming than I was expecting them to be, so I SORT OF ran out of time for the rest of the costumes.
My plans for the rest of the monster costumes weren’t elaborate, anyway. Many of my monsters would need to make some pretty quick changes (I planned my cast so Evil Gabbi and Evil Tina played 5 different creatures each through the course of the show), so I wanted to go pretty basic, anyway. I simplified my original plan so that, generally speaking, each monster costume was a mask plus one or two other garments at most. The “base” for each monster costume was a plain black shirt and black pants so that other elements could be added on top.
Since Tilly draws on her high-school trials and tribulations to create her adventure (the Succubi are her cheerleader nemeses, and her guidance counselor appears as a Beholder), I decided to lean into this and make give each group of monsters a classic teenager archetype. As it happens, I work at an escape room that was getting rid of a locker room themed game, so I scored a number of sports jerseys that they were going to throw out. Pretty much every other garment we used came from either Goodwill or clearance Halloween stores. We got a few finishing touches from Amazon.
The kobolds, pack-hunter lizard folk generally considered to have less-than-average intelligence, were a perfect fit for the “jock” stereotype. I cut apart the football jerseys I got from the escape room so that they resembled basketball jersey-tanks. The kobolds also got sweatbands for their wrists. Since I had the football jerseys, I decided to make my cyclops into a football player– it seemed appropriate, since I planned on making the cyclops the “big boss” of the fight montage at the end of scene 5.
The big, hairy bugbears were grungy burnouts, a la Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club. They got some flannel shirts from Goodwill. The skull-faced liches made perfect goths– long black cloaks for them. We made the goblins punk-rockers and gave them each a denim vest.
All the garments got some artificial aging with the help of some sandpaper and spray paint.
(These are the best two photos I have of my monsters– Vera the Beholder and the cyclops. Photos by KGTunney Photography. I have a few other photos, but they’re just low-quality rehearsal snaps. You can see the football jersey I got from the escape room on the cyclops.)
22 monsters down, I decided I wanted to add one more. This allowed me to add DM Biggs to the fight montage, and I thought it would be more fun if everyone got a turn to fight… so at our final few set build days, we speed-built a silly mimic costume out of a cardboard box. It figures that the monster we spent the least time on was probably the biggest crowd favorite.
(A work-in-progress pic of the mimic, and a photo of it more or less completed. I had almost nothing to do with the construction of this one besides saying I wanted it and bringing a box. Thanks, volunteers!)
The mimic was such a hit that I do wish I’d been a bit more creative with the rest of the monsters. The masks were really cool, but a lot of work, and a cardboard box with legs delighted the audience just as much if not more!
Final Thoughts
I still can’t bring myself to regret all the time I spent frantically building monsters. It was a lot of fun! If I did it all again, I’d get more creative– and either start a lot earlier, or get a dedicated costumer instead of trying to do it while also directing. (Or start a lot earlier and with a dedicated costumer… both is good!)
If you’re looking for a resource for making cheap and impressive monsters, Wintercroft is such a great resource– I can’t recommend them enough. Besides the theatrical applications, they’re just fun art projects, and they also make great halloween costumes. If you want to use their masks in a production, just email their support to ask for permission, and be sure to give them the credit that is due!
Happy monster-making!– I’d love to see some monsters others have made in the comments.
I’ve been around a lot of performers in a lot of different settings. I’ve directed, I’ve taught, I’ve acted, I’ve watched from both the audience and the stage manager’s booth. Every performer is unique, and everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. Yet, in all of the actors, dancers, and musicians I’ve worked with, I have found that there are exactly three traits every truly excellent performer has in common.
These traits are instrumental to success in the performing arts. You won’t get very far without them, and having them can put you on top in close auditions.
If you can honestly say you have these three traits, then pat yourself on the back! If you’re not so sure, read over this article closely and do what you can to pick them up immediately.
Directing for the first time is a learning curve nothing can really quite prepare you for.
In 2022, I got the opportunity to solo direct my first full-length play. My production of Qui Nguyen’s She Kills Monsters ended up being a big success and one of the better selling plays in our community theater’s season! I had a blast, and I also discovered a lot.
Here is what I learned from my first directing credit!
I began making plans for my production in earnest in 2020. While the world was shut down, I had little else to do, so I spent time workshopping designs and reading and re-reading the script. At this point, I had no idea when I would get to put on the show, but I was adamant that I would get the chance to somehow, somewhere. The play is one of my absolute favorites, and I had dreamed of directing it for a number of years by that point.
The benefit of starting so early was that I had a lot of extra material to bolster my directing proposal packet. When the theater asked for directing candidates for 2022, I was ready! The board was impressed by the work I’d done, which made my pitch all the more appealing.
Starting early also meant that I had to do less work during the run of the show itself. Which was great, because…
Every tech and design element will take 2 to 3 times longer than you think
Having a solid base of pre-production work to operate from proved very important. In fact, I should have done more. Without a costumer or a dedicated props person, I ended up spending days during the rehearsal process working on various props and monster costumes. It was creatively fulfilling, but super hard work. I had a specific vision for how I wanted these done, and I had a method that worked for me, so I was determined to finish them myself. It took forever.
Speaking of which…
You absolutely must learn the skill of delegation
This is a skill, because it is absolutely something you have to learn how to do.
At our first set build, I was an absolute mess, a chicken with my head cut off. I was trying to give directions to everyone, about everything, all at once. I would give someone a job, and by the time I finished explaining instructions to the next person, the previous would be done with their task and coming to me for a new one. I ended up becoming a bottleneck in the whole process— we had so many volunteers, and because I didn’t plan properly for delegation, I couldn’t use them all effectively!
Part of this issue was simply the way this particular theater works, in which the director usually wears a lot of hats and does a lot of things themself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a control freak, so I kind of love working this way. Designing practically every element of the production was super exciting! But the work also could’ve turned out much better if I had let more skilled people take the reins on certain things. Letting others take the reins requires some more pre-thought and communication (which is also a learnable skill). It’s worth it.
It’s important to know a little about everything in theatre
I went into this production knowing basically nothing about lights or sound, and boy do I wish I had known more. It was difficult to communicate with my light and sound techs because I didn’t have the vocabulary to express my desires.
Before directing, it is very helpful to volunteer for and learn about as many different tech positions as possible. Many community theaters are always looking for sound and light board operators. Stage managing (or assistant stage managing) is also a valuable experience, as you’ll be at all rehearsals and can observe up close how a director works. It also gives you a good idea of some of the more practical elements of a production that many actors don’t think about— good, hands-on experience with planning, paperwork, and problem-solving.
You can probably get more done in one rehearsal than you think
Maybe this is just a me thing, but I thoroughly under-filled our rehearsals. I just really thought we wouldn’t be able to get as much done as we did. For the first month of rehearsals, we’d inevitably end up finishing everything I wanted to do within the first hour and a half to two hours of rehearsal, and then we’d end up drilling or dipping into stuff we had planned for other rehearsals until the end.
This wasn’t really a bad thing— I actually think scheduling your rehearsals just a little light so your cast has time to mess around, have some fun, and get to know each other can be really good for morale and the group dynamic overall. Not planning rehearsals to be more efficient started to bite us towards the end of the process, though, when everything always gets a little crunchy and nerve-wracking.
Don’t be afraid to plan your rehearsals rather heavy on activities. Just know that the more work you plan, the more rigid you have to be about staying focused.
Attendance and the schedule will probably be a little bit of a mess, no matter what
I was really adamant about planning out the entire rehearsal schedule in advance. I did… and then we had a slew of conflicts come in anyway due to illness, changes to another local production’s rehearsal schedule, childcare surprises, etc.
Turns out, you just can’t really organize a group of peoples’ schedules perfectly. This is why it’s super useful to have a number of “TBD” days in your rehearsal schedule, so you can catch up on things people miss. (I list these as full-cast rehearsals on the schedule and whittle them down to whoever is actually needed. Or, if we’re all caught up, they can be cancelled altogether. I only had a few of these sprinkled throughout the process, but I wish I’d had some more. You can cancel an extra rehearsal, but you can’t ask everyone to clear their schedules at the last minute to add an extra rehearsal.)
If attendance is truly a big issue for your production, you can of course fire actors who are especially unreliable. I never felt like the issue was that serious for our show.
Also, no matter how direct the schedule is, or how clear the daily call is, or how many times you said it at yesterday’s rehearsal, you will have people asking you what you’re doing that day. Always. You’ll have to embrace it.
Giving direction is one of the hardest parts of directing
It’s not enough to know what you want (although this is a step I think a lot more directors should spend more time on). You also need to know how to steer your actors there.
This is a skill that thousands of pages of directing theory have been written on. There’s actually achieving the performance you’re trying to get from an actor, and there’s also doing it in a way that doesn’t demoralize them. Maybe I’m just too polite, but discovering how not to feel guilty giving actors repeated notes was a harsh learning curve for me. I’m still working on this today.
This is something that only gets better with practice and wisdom. Reading books on directing is super helpful, and working with lots of different directors to examine their manner is awesome. But in the end, learning to do it yourself is just really hard. Try to get experience any way you can.
You also have to let the actors be
Some of the best and most creative decisions that will be made during the production process will come from the actors themselves. No amount of pre-planning can really prepare you for the individual chemistries and personalities of the actors in the room, so don’t be afraid to let your plans change, and let the actors do the jobs you selected them to do.
You are the director, and you ultimately have creative control. You do have to learn the art of reining in choices you don’t like, and helping actors find choices that adhere more closely to your vision. But it’s also important to learn how to let the actors take charge themselves.
Suddenly, you’ll find you have nothing to do
There is a point at the end of the rehearsal process where, after weeks of absolute panic and endless toil, you will suddenly find your to-do lists empty. Everything will be humming along without you. You will miraculously find yourself empty-handed, wandering around the theatre as your actors prepare to perform independently of you.
Some directors will work backstage during their shows, or run lights or sound for their productions. As a first-time director, I wanted to be free to just watch my show. It was very odd when things all at once changed from being intensely dependent on me to not dependent at me at all.
At a point, the show is no longer quite yours. It belongs to the actors. You have to pass it over gracefully.
You can never quite be 100% ready
You’ll always be kicking yourself a bit during the production process, wondering why you didn’t taking the time to learn more about X or Y or Z beforehand. That’s okay. Embrace the information you have now, and welcome the learning process.
And as the production deadline comes rushing at you, you’ll inevitably be wondering how you’re going to get everything done in time. You’re just not ready yet. You could, hypothetically, continue refining and reworking a show forever. But that isn’t how most real-world theaters work, so you’ll have to let it go, whether you feel quite ready for it or not.
Directing for the first time is the hardest thing you’ll ever do, and also one of the coolest
It is a boatload of work. No one else will completely understand how much work it is. You are doomed to be the person who cares the most about the final product, and yet, in a roundabout way, have very little bearing on exactly how that product turns out. You will forever be learning and being horrified by what you didn’t know you didn’t know. You will put literal blood, sweat, and tears into the process.
And when it’s done, you’ll be dreaming about when you can do it again.
Post-production set strikes are easiest when many people lend their hands to the cause. Unfortunately, many actors dread strike. The reality is that many actors simply don’t know how to help. While technical skills are of benefit to every performer, and I heartily recommend every actor get the gist of as many backstage skills as possible, many times the root of the anxiety is simply “what can I even do besides stand around the whole time?”
Here is a set of suggestions for everyone, no matter their strength or skills, regarding making themselves useful at strike. The list starts with the least technically-inclined options, with the “hardest” options at the end.
Don’t be afraid to ask where you can help. The director, stage manager, and technical director should all be able to help you find something to do, and many of your cast and crew will also happily accept help if you offer it. Of course, use your best judgement—asking for direction repeatedly while others are busy with their own work gets annoying and makes it seem like you lack initiative.
See if any painting needs done. Some pieces may need primed and repainted if such is practice in the theater. This is almost always one of the last steps of strike, but it’s one anyone can do!
Get on cleaning duty. Strike requires much more than tearing down sets and lights. The lobby, house, bathrooms, greenroom, and dressing rooms may all be part of strike. Find out what needs cleaned— anyone can take care of organizing, vacuuming, or wiping down surfaces. However, remember that strike is messy business! Don’t bother cleaning anything that is likely to be trashed again by the end of the process until all of the work is done.
Take out the trash. As the set gets ripped apart, a surplus trash will quickly accumulate. Gathering this and throwing it away keeps the space clear for other, more important work. Remember, though, that because something has been used doesn’t necessary mean it is garbage. Again, use your best judgement— Large sheets of plywood or bits of lumber at a reasonable length can be reused, as can most hardware like screws, casters, or handles. Anything broken, badly damaged, or under a reasonably useful size should be trashed, while re-usable materials can be cleared away and re-organized. If you’re unclear on what is trash and what is useful, check in with someone first.
Assist with costumes, props, or furniture. Returning these pieces to their homes in theater storage is often relatively light work. On the other hand, if you have the muscle, lifting furniture into trucks or up and down stairs can be very helpful at this step— the “heavy” muscle is often assisting with the technical work at this time.
Remove hardware from set pieces and lumber. Before any lumber or stock structures get taken to storage, any extruding nails or staples should be removed. If they can’t be removed, you can sometimes use a hammer to pound them flat. The goal is to be certain that no one will be impaled the next time they lift that object. Using pliers or a hammer to remove these pointy bits of hardware is a very helpful activity that can be quite time consuming (in other words, if you have no idea what to do all day, this is a GREAT job to sign yourself up for).
Return reusable lumber and hardware to storage. Make sure you are clear on what should be trashed and what should be kept. If there are no organizational rules about where these things should go, strike may be a good time to do some organizing! Sorting like objects into their own bins or shelves is incredibly useful for future productions.
Be ready to help lift, lower, and store structures. There’s generally a wealth of group lifting to be done. “Stock” structures like legs and flats can be taken to storage. Often, large structures like platforms need to be lowered onto one side or moved in order to be taken apart. Even if you lack muscle, lifting as a group effort is easiest, and more hands are always beneficial. If you see people struggling to lift something, don’t take the time to worry about if you’re strong enough to help— just jump in!
Don’t be afraid of the power tools. Even if you’ve never used certain tools before, there will likely be someone willing to show you what to do with them.
Now that you have some suggestions for how to make yourself useful, here are some friendly reminders of what isn’t useful:
Don’t get in harm’s way. If you feel unsafe with something, leave it to those better equipped to handle it. Everyone would rather you pass off the job to someone else than be injured. Further, if you’re waiting for a job or for instruction, make sure you’re not, say, in the path of a light rail coming in, or underfoot when people are lifting heavy objects. Stay aware of your surroundings.
Don’t play supervisor. Regardless of how poorly you feel others may be doing their jobs, nothing is worse than watching someone simply stand back and tell others what to do. If you feel you must give direction to someone, do it, and then return to your own work. However, make sure you ask yourself, Am I a reliable authority on this issue? If the answer is no, keep your advice to yourself.
Don’t hide. This is a popular pastime for those who don’t know what to do with themselves at strike. Yes, we have noticed you’ve been mysteriously missing for the last three hours. No, it’s not a good look.
Don’t leave. Even if you have to leave early for any reason, try to be helpful in some way before you go. It’s better for everyone (yourself included) if you do a little rather than nothing.
Ultimately, what is important is that you find something to do. Almost anything you can find to do is helpful, so pitch in wherever you can. If you really can’t find some way to help, just ask!
Directors, if you’re looking for tips to make your set strikes more organized, check out my post here!
Most school drama departments are not democracies. Instead, they tend to resemble dictatorships.
This used to be the way every school organization functioned: the students unwaveringly followed the command of the teacher, the all-knowing, all-powerful leader of the classroom. Nowadays, classrooms are moving away from functioning this way, as this is not the practice most modern education theory supports. The role of the teacher becomes less hierarchically superior, with many educators considering themselves “guides” or “facilitators” rather than singular leaders. In their place, students step up to direct their own learning, and learn about leadership and self-actualization by fulfilling a more active role than “the one who receives the knowledge the teacher imparts.” The process is better for educating critical thinkers and problem-solvers.
School theatre is lagging behind in this endeavor.
You probably shouldn’t treat your voice lessons like your therapy sessions, and you definitely shouldn’t treat your therapy sessions like your voice lessons. Nonetheless, having participated in both for some time, I realize that the experience, main ideas, and takeaways of both are startlingly similar, even in ways I initially failed to recognize.
Theatre Thoughts Blog 