STEPHEN FALA: I’m Stephen Fala, and you’re listening to Pipe and Drape, the only podcast that spotlights the creative minds behind the Theatre For Young Audiences industry.
[The Dinky Pipe and Drape theme plays.]
I love traditions. They’re a warm and wonderful thing to return to when the world seems to spin too fast. Outside of the traditions in my home created by my family and culture, I’ve found ritual in the theatre. The first full-length musical I did was Mr. Kasmer’s fourth grade class production of Fiddler on the Roof and that’s all about [a full chorus of adults singing the line “Tradition” from the song "Tradition" from Fiddler on the Roof plays.] so my thoughts and feelings about ritual and theatre were married early on. I also was married early on because I played Motel in that production.
 |
| Sophie Prown, Erica Bush, and Stephen Fala in Mr. Kasmer's 2001 class production of Fiddler on the Roof at Wallingford Elementary School |
Throughout my grade school years I participated in a number of performance-related rituals. The first was the tradition of using ashes from the walls of Hedgerow Theatre as dirt makeup during their production of A Christmas Carol, and as I started to perform in shows at school and in camp I fell into other traditions like specific warmups in the chorus room that apparently frightened my best friend who heard the chants from the hallway, a cigar that was passed from generation to generation to signify leadership transition in my high school theatre department, pasta dinners, psych boxes (which are foil-covered shoe boxed filled with candy), Friday night marching band antics in the bell squad, and scrapbooking all of it along the way. Traditions served as fun, reliable checkpoints throughout these creative endeavors–things to look forward to and scheduled moments to breathe and celebrate when rehearsals, school, and other trials of adolescence became challenging.
 |
| The cigar pass-down and a pair of socks that will be discussed at the end of this episode, February 2009. |
As I spent more time away from family, school, and theatre camp, I started to develop new traditions that were inspired by my past, and as I witnessed many theatre trends and traditions via social media, some of those inspired Instagram posts that I would create throughout my time on contracts.
Many actors will create a “first day of school” social media post with a photo their script, or a “pleased to announce” collage of their headshot, the name of the theatre they’re working for, and the title of the show they’re doing. This trend caught on as I was finishing college, and while I graduated having already signed a contract for the upcoming theatrical season, I was hesitant to tell anyone what I was doing—mainly because I didn’t believe it was actually happening. In case it was an elaborate ruse or I was to be fired, I elusively posted a picture of my suitcases with the caption “Bye, PA” and didn’t answer anyone’s questions about it. Looking back, it’s a bit of an eye-roll, as were the similar photos and captions that I shared for nearly a decade. A few years into this portion of my professional journey, theatres began announcing their casts on social media, so the spread of information became too quick for my annoying out-of-context suitcase pictures. I would get congratulatory texts from people before I had even thought about packing. Because of this, and the fact that I have not been fired or tricked, I recently became more open about where I am going when I post my suitcase pictures.
 |
| The Fala Driveway in Wallingford, PA, August 24, 2013 |
Included in each of these suitcase pictures are two stuffed animals—the Ty Beanie Baby “Chocolate the Moose” (I named Moose) and a Fisher Price “My Little Snugamonkey Monkey Plush” (I named B.) These have become my travel companions on every contract for a few reasons. One of these was consistency. When I grew up, my room decorations were ever-changing, but one constant was this statue of a moose my mom mom brought back from Alaska. I had decided I’d take it with me to college, and there he watched over me as drank 7Eleven coffee for four years. The moose came with me to my apartment for my first post-college contract, but one of my next contracts was a small tour, and the moose was not built to tour—too fragile. I had a moose Beanie Baby in my parents’ attic, so I decided to take him with me as my Moose on the Go, seen on Instagram under #MooseOnTheGo. I decided I would take pictures of this moose in front of various signs and landmarks as I explored the east coast on my first regional tour. This aspect of the tradition was inspired by my dad’s trip to Europe in the ‘80s when he took pictures of his backpack in various European locations. He has a great scrapbook filled with these pictures. So I was set to tour with this Beanie Baby and little did I know, my boyfriend at the time had already planned to gift me a small stuffed monkey to take with me on the road. So I toured with both. My tour partner was not as adventurous as I was, so when I was wandering around cities by myself I was alone taking many pictures of my stuffed animals in front of things. At first I was worried about what strangers would think of me, but I realized that no one’s opinion of you matters especially when you’re constantly skipping town, so that’s the lesson of tour. Moose and B slowly started taking on their own personalities in pictures. I made B more mischievous and naughty while Moose had an obsession with chandeliers and pipe organs and The Phantom of the Opera. I have pictures of them in dozens of museums, historical landmarks, murals, installations, wildlife, and I always take a picture of them from the stage with the house seats in the background so I can remember my view of each touring venue.
 |
| Moose and B at the Fabulous Fox in St. Louis, MO, December 13, 2014 |
 |
| Moose at the Virginia Theatre in Champaign, IL, March 8, 2016 |
 |
| B shoving Moose into a box at the Kroger in Cabot, AR, November 15, 2018 |
While I’m wandering around random cities, at some point I’m in search of an old barrel key. Sometimes known as skeleton keys, these antiques are something I’ve always been fascinated with. I still have a key I tried to sculpt out of floral wire and tape somewhere, and I have a vivid memory of my elementary school art teacher Mrs. Reed making a neat looking key out of yellow construction paper. In high school my best friend Mel gifted me an Abercrombie and Fitch necklace with keys on it, and I wore them every day. I started collecting keys a decade ago on that first contract after I graduated college. I was on a cast outing at the annual Apple Harvest Festival in Ithica, New York and season one guest Scott Duell wanted to stop in an antique/thrift store to shop for bow ties and records. I went into The Vintage Industry with him and gravitated towards a bowl of keys and Scott suggested that I buy the one with an S on it [a clip of SpongeBob saying “S for SpongeBob or S for Sandy” plays] then said I could buy one of every contract. So I did and I did! When I’m on the road it’s sometimes hard for me to find antique stores with a key supply, and a few times it took the entire length of a contract to track a key down. I’ve kept a record of all of the antique stores I’ve visited, and I’ve shared my story with most of the clerks, who I am, what I do, and why I do this, and in turn take in stories and hardware wisdom from many of them—one called my collection "the keys to success!" Each Yuletide season I hang my key collection on a small tree to reflect on the people I’ve met, places I’ve been, and stories I’ve shared.
 |
| The keys as of September 2023 |
I keep track of good memories on stage and off through the years by writing them down on small cards and collecting them in a jar. For the last ten years on New Year’s Eve, I emptied out the jar and read each memory card, then I put them in an envelope labeled for the year. When the clock strikes midnight I start the year off with an empty jar waiting to be filled with more memories.
 |
| The 2023 notes, so far |
The first time I ever received and opening night gift was when I was fourteen years old and on run crew for a production of The Lion in Winter at Hedgerow Theatre starring artistic director Penelope Reed and Alex Hurt, son of film star William Hurt. Alex wrote cards and handed out bags of goodies to the cast and crew on opening night and one of the goodies in my bag was a blessing ring keychain that I still have on my keys today. The ring is for “wisdom” and is carved like the silhouette of an owl.
 |
| The first gift |
'This is what professionals do,' I thought. So four years later when I started performing professionally I wrote cards like Alex did. A few days before closing every show, I sit down and write notes to my cast and crew, filling each card with personal memories and jokes from the rehearsal and performance process, and I stamp them with a stamp my dad designed for me—a key with my initials on it. The cards read a lot like the notes I wrote in everyone’s yearbook senior year of high school. It’s a bit a of time capsule.
 |
| Card for my Mary Poppins team at Slow Burn Theatre Company, March 2023, featuring the key stamp and unused set dressing letters |
I keep my own sort of time capsules via scrapbooks. This is something I have done for every show and concert since I was in third grade. Each page in my scrapbooks is filled with photos, newspaper articles, tickets, programs, show related jokes, and mementoes from each era of my life. If you’ve worked with me and written me a note, it lives in a scrapbook that's on my bookshelf.
This was one of the two traditions I started in grade school. The other is the way that I bow. I believe that bows should be modest and quick but not rushed so much that the audience does not feel acknowledged. My high school choral director John Shankweiler taught the students at Strath Haven High School to gently bow with just enough time and movement to look at their toes and say “Hello, toes,” then stand upright and step aside for the next performer. I’ve said “Hello, toes” out loud for curtain calls ever since.
 |
| A Sesame Street: The Musical scrapbook page, featuring confetti that fell on me, tickets, merch, etc. |
At the end of every contract after the notes are passed out, Moose and B are tucked away, and my new key is on my keyring, I put on a pair of brown and pink socks, go into the house seats, and take a picture of the stage with my socks in the foreground. This is also a vaguely Hedgerow tradition of mine. During one year of A Christmas Carol at the theatre, I told my Secret Santa that I wanted pink socks for my gift. They followed through, and I promised to wear them under my costume on closing night—I did. The next year I was given another pair of pink socks to wear. Another closing night in pink. And my senior year of high school, after I had traded my Christmas Carol years for a touring show choir and SAT tutoring, my mom gifted me a pair of brown socks with pink tips which I wore during my closing performance there. Fast forward a few years: I had forgotten about socks, the words to my high school chants were cloudy, and it had been years since I stormed an Applebees with fifty castmates. I was at a tour stop for one of my summer stock jobs and across from me was a large sock stretched over a plank of wood on the wall.
 |
| West Chester, PA, July 14, 2012 |
I’d be back at that venue in a few weeks to close out another show and I thought, ‘What if I brought those senior year socks back out?’ I did! I wore them a few weeks later and took a picture to remember. A year passed and I wore the socks to close out a few school projects and graduation from college, and then I packed them with me to keep the tradition going (packed in that suitcase that I elusively posted on social media—afraid to show what I was working on for fear it would not come to be.) So when I closed that first show on that contract, I took a picture of my socks on my feet in front of the set to show what I was working on, and that I can put my feet up for just a second before the next one.
 |
| Central New York, December 20, 2023 |
The traditions I’ve created have fueled the many adventures I’ve had throughout my pipe and drape story (and inspired the logo for this podcast!) They keep me balanced as I navigate this field. And as winter approaches, I recognize how fortunate I am to have a tree covered with a growing key collection, socks worn so often that they are beginning to fray, the many notes in my jar that have come and gone, and the number of times my stuffed animals have been inspected by TSA. The traditions I developed in adulthood have maintained essentially the same purpose as the ones shared with me throughout my childhood theatre days. They are fun, reliable checkpoints throughout my creative employment endeavors–things to look forward to and scheduled moments to breathe and celebrate when rehearsals, side hustles, and other trials of adulthood become challenging. I am excited to continue to share pieces of my pipe and drape story and those of my fellow industry members through this platform, and I thank you for joining all of us in this space this season.
[Pipe and Drape theme plays.]
This dinky episode of Pipe and Drape was written by me, Stephen Fala and distributed by Spotify for Podcasters. The Pipe and Drape logo was created by Stephen Gordon and music was composed by Stephen Fala. This episode also featured selections from the song “Tradition” from Upper Darby Summer Stage's 2013 production of Fiddler on the Roof.
If you would like to share your theatre traditions and pipe and drape story, send me an email at PipeAndDrapeStories@gmail.com or message me @PipeAndDrapeStories Instagram. And before you put down your device, please rate and review Pipe and Drape wherever you listen to your podcasts! Each star given or review submitted helps future listeners find the show. Be sure to tune in every other Tuesday to hear theatre for young audiences creatives share their pipe and drape stories. Thank you for listening today.
[The end of the Dinky Pipe and Drape theme plays.]
This doesn't fit into my pipe and drape story at but I needed to tell you about another tradition I do which is that I've worn the same, disintegrating red tee shirt for all of my drivers license photos for the entirety of my adult life. This started out as a coincidence but now it’s forever. Please don't unfollow the podcast.
Music from this episode: "Tradition" - Fidder on the Roof (Upper Darby Summer Stage cast, 2013) music by Jerry Bock and lyrics by Sheldon Harnick
Music from this episode: "Tradition" - Fidder on the Roof (Upper Darby Summer Stage cast, 2013) music by Jerry Bock and lyrics by Sheldon Harnick
Connect with Pipe and Drape:
INSTAGRAM: @PipeAndDrapeStories
EMAIL: PipeAndDrapeStories@gmail.com
Host: Stephen Fala
Show Logo: Stephen Gordon
No comments:
Post a Comment