(Part 1 of 3)
A Three-Part Series on Life, Leadership, and the Beautiful Chaos of Theatre
Directing theatre isn’t just about blocking scenes and calling cues. It’s about leadership, creativity, and managing the beautiful chaos that comes with live performance. After 34 years in the director’s role—whether in schools, community theatres, or the performing arts world—I’ve picked up a few lessons. Some I learned the hard way, others were gifted to me by mentors and students alike. If you’re in your first decade of directing (or even your third), these insights might save you a few headaches (or gray hairs or a few stress pounds)—or at least remind you why it’s all worth it. Some lessons make you laugh; others make you grow.
Act 1: Starting the Journey—Chaos & Comedy (Lessons 1-12)
1. The show will go on. It always does.
You’ll have disasters—sets breaking, actors getting sick, power outages during tech week. But somehow, the show always finds a way. Once, we didn’t have access to our set until the afternoon of opening night. It was Noises Off. The actors had blocked the show in a choir room and rehearsed staircases and props in pieces, but they never had a full run in the actual space. Yet, when the curtain rose, they nailed it. Kids are resilient. They will rise to the occasion if you trust them.
2. Never skip a warm-up.
Actors need it. Tech crews need it. You need it. A solid warm-up builds focus, unity, and energy. I used to hate them—they stressed me out. I wanted everyone focused on their specific role in the show. But then I noticed something: their faces lit up, they were stretching their muscles, waking up their voices, and increasing their energy. And most importantly, they loved it. They looked forward to it.
I still don’t know why, in theatre games, there were so many “Big Bootys” (#1, #7??) or why we had to ride that pony, and I am lost as to why bizzing and buzzing gets us in character… but let me tell you, they work. Let’s not get too scientific—if something works, don’t try to figure it out. Just roll with it.
3. Call times are not suggestions.
Rehearsals start when they start. Teach accountability early, and you won’t be chasing people down later. I once gave Katrina and Lisa my best intimidating director glare when they arrived late the week before opening. But Katrina immediately diffused my legendary “look” by blurting, “We were bra shopping…it’s hard to be an 1890’s city girl without the right foundation!” OK, she didn’t say that last part, but young Mr. S had no reply for the first part (which was true). It’s hard to keep your stern director face intact after that. Usually, though, nobody wants to be the kid who walks into rehearsal late carrying Starbucks—and immediately has 40 pairs of eyes silently judge them.
4. Your best actor may not be your best leader.
Talent comes in all forms. Some of the most valuable performers are the ones who lift up their castmates, drive the energy backstage, and set the tone for the entire production. Kara was one such student. We were doing Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, and she naturally took over as the leader of the ensemble. She helped every person feel important, find their character, and gave them the push and support they needed to blossom. That avalanche scene stole the show, and I give her all the credit.
5. Teach tech appreciation from day one.
Actors should understand the work that goes into lights, sound, costumes, and sets. A theatre functions best when all sides respect each other. We always required our performers to work on some aspect of crew. For those that didn’t have confidence, they worked with others who did. They worked under the leadership of our tech students and technical director. When we were building sets, costumes, props, or lighting, we were all one team with one goal. The cast was a single company.
6. The best stage managers are gold.
Find them. Train them. Treat them well. They’ll save you more times than you can count. My stage management professor in college, Kathy, was one of the most amazing humans I have ever known. She seemed to have everything under control when the rest of us were spinning. She was the fulcrum that kept everything in balance. Find that person. They may not even know they have those skills, but if they are the ones people naturally look up to and trust… there’s your stage manager.
7. You don’t need a massive budget to make theatre magic.
Creativity thrives under constraints. Some of the best shows I’ve ever seen—or done—were crafted from nothing but teamwork, imagination, and a whole lot of donated materials. When we did The Little Mermaid, our underwater world came alive with pool noodles, plastic cups, clear packing wrap, and some donated see-through plastic umbrellas turned jellyfish (thank you, local community donors!). When the lights hit, it shimmered like real ocean waves, mesmerizing everyone.
Full disclosure: We did splurge once on a frog costume. But it was giant and came with its own lily pad, and honestly, who can resist that?
8. Pick up the tempo—it will save your show.
My college mentor, Dr. Georg, once told me, “The purpose of the beginning of the show is to get to the end of the show as quickly and painlessly as possible.” I thought he was being cynical—for the first decade of my directing life. Then, I had that aha moment. He wasn’t saying to rush or that artistry wasn’t important. He meant that the audience should be so engrossed that time simply flies by.
Don’t let things slow down the flow of the show. Yes, find those quiet moments, but those moments should build the show, not stall it. KEEP IT MOVING—the purpose is to take the audience on a ride… ain’t Nobody got time for pit stops!
9. Parents can be your greatest allies—or your biggest hurdles.
Set expectations early. Communicate clearly. And when you find supportive parents, cherish them. Parents can decorate your lobby, run concessions, and feed the kids on long tech rehearsals. If they have a job and know they are part of the success of a show, they WILL feel part of it—and they will support you in ways you didn’t even know you needed.
Tami ran our box office like a surgeon, with every detail covered. And Cindy, oh Cindy… she turned our lobby into a playground of awe. Her concession tables were works of art. People often came to the show JUST to be in that lobby! I once had a parent who salvaged old barn wood for a set. That reclaimed wood became the most stunning raked stage I’ve ever built.
10. The power of ‘Thank You’ cannot be overstated.
A handwritten note, a quick email, or a shoutout during curtain call—always acknowledge the people who make your productions happen. People give more of themselves when they feel valued, and theatre is built on generosity—of time, talent, and energy.
11. Tech rehearsals will never run on schedule.
Plan accordingly. And bring snacks. Tech week isn’t just a test of logistics—it’s a test of patience. Your patience. Your cast’s patience. Your tech crew’s patience. Accept that things will take longer than you expect, and be prepared to roll with it.
12. No one remembers the mistakes like you do.
That missed line? That set piece that didn’t quite land? The audience probably didn’t even notice. Let it go. As directors, we know how things are supposed to be and how we dreamed them to be—but honestly, the audience doesn’t. They experience the show as it is, in the moment. If you don’t dwell on the mistakes, neither will they.
This is just the beginning! Part 1 of this three-part series is wrapped, but we’ve barely scratched the surface. Come back for parts 2 and 3, where we’ll dive even deeper into the details—those small touches that create unforgettable theatre magic.
Share this:
