The Magic of Theatre

We all have our reasons for loving theatre, and more often than not, it’s for reasons much more personal to the audience member in particular! It is more than just the spectacle, the score, the choreography, and personally having realized that I love theatre for the spectacle and extravaganza of it all (of course), but I now feel a true connection to theatre and can actually acknowledge what theatre can do for somebody at every level.

You see, it wasn’t until 2013 or 2014 that I really became obsessed with musical theatre and all it encompasses, however I was naive and didn’t bother to investigate any time into what made me love it so much, or why I wanted to go to the theatre so often, and even see the same show over and over again. This is something I never thought I would broadcast publicly but I think it is invaluable that I discuss how theatre has changed my life and the magic that I have found in it.

Photo by nevarpp/iStock / Getty Images

Photo by nevarpp/iStock / Getty Images

Two years ago I was diagnosed with epilepsy, which you could quite possibly say it was one of the worst days of my life. I was in a rut, a permanent state of shock, disbelief, and anger. And nothing, I mean NOTHING, could change the way I was feeling. Until a couple of weeks later when my sister (younger but wiser) told me to think back on positive memories I have made in the theatre and from that moment on I listened to songs from all of my favorite musicals, this instantly changed my mood and made me feel giddy and happy, something I hadn’t felt for a while. Once I was given the ok to go to the theatre I didn’t walk I ran! Theatre, musicals, and plays have all impacted my life, when I felt sad there was a song for that, when I was frustrated there was something for that too, every emotion I felt the theatre had a way of making me feel better! The theatre is an escape for me. As soon as I take my seat, I am transported to a completely different world, where my problems don’t exist, where I am just your average teenager. There is nothing as magical as this, and it’s safe to say my life will never be the same again because of how transformative each and every experience I have had since then has been! Through the good days and the bad I know that there will always be something in the theatre realm that will make me feel a million times better! I truly believe that for every problem there is a solution to be found, whether it is through seeing a show live, listening to a cast album or simply thinking back on the memories.

Have you experienced anything that makes you believe in the true magic of Theatre?


Grief and Depression: How Theatre Pulled Me Through

SarahLynn Mangan

Everyone is told their life is going to be a roller coaster and you won't get anything out of it unless you just keep riding and moving forward, I have found this to be very true.

As a young child life was wonderful, I had four amazing older siblings and two wonderful parents. We were all into performing arts either being on the stage dancing in ballet, singing at school shows or performing in theatre camps. Especially two of my older sisters and I as we are the closest in age, (my brother being twelve years older than me and my other sister eighteen years older than me). Our parents were very supportive and were known to always be willing to get us to rehearsal, give us flowers after performances, provide food for cast members and help backstage. We were known as the family that always wanted to be working in a theatre.

Unfortunately, just twenty days after my tenth birthday my father passed away. He had a disease known as ALS or as I like to tell people “that disease that the ice bucket challenge was for.” He was diagnosed when I was seven and died in his sleep just under two and a half years later. I am grateful that he was no longer a brain trapped inside a paralyzed body- the disease does not affect the brain but rather shuts down every other motor function within the body-so I was happy to see him finally released to serenity but also was reminded of all the things that a daughter typically does with her father.  He will never me down the aisle when I get married to someone I love, never intimidate the people I date, and most importantly to me was that he would never be able to see me nor my other siblings perform again.

I recently stumbled upon my father’s old blog that he used to document his life with the disease and at one point he had written “I really want to beat this thing that is trying to take me before my girls have a chance to grow up” and “I would like to live to see the rest of my daughters and son married, and to see my daughters at least graduate from High School” unfortunately he never even got to see me graduate elementary school.

My entire family had hoped he would have lived just four days longer so he would at least be able to see my sisters and I in our summer ballet performance, but that was not the case. So instead we were told to perform to the best of our abilities and dedicate it to our father. This I did so without delay and wholeheartedly, for I believed he could watch us and that he would be proud to have called me his daughter.

After that performance, we all quit dancing and performing to be able to grief.

That was my first mistake.

I knew that performing was my passion ever since taking my first step out into the lights as a little bon-bon in The Nutcracker and I knew it was an outlet. When something tragic happens to someone so young, they don’t know how to process it and neither did I.

After taking the summer off I jumped back into theatre with being cast as Suzi Spider in Tiny Thumbelina in my fifth-grade musical at my expressive arts elementary school. I continued to participate in theatre camp shows as well, but I knew something was missing from my performances and that I was slowly but surely retracting from my extroverted self who would start singing and dancing musicals anytime I deemed it necessary (which was always).

Almost a year after my father's passing I was given the opportunity to be in my first community theatre production. I was ecstatic because I knew that if I could do this I would be able to show my father he could still be proud of me. I was a part of the youth ensemble for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat and in this production, the rehearsal process was quick, we hardly interacted with the adults, and were on stage for the entire show except for “Potiphar.” I remember on opening night I was dancing downstage center in the song “Go Go Go Joseph” and I started to tear up because I felt as though my father was somehow watching me and applauding me on.

After that production, I truly felt as though I would go back to normal, I got confidence back and was ready to continue in life. I had found a way to still feel connected to my father and not feel so alone in my journey of processing my grief.

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat at Tacoma Musical Playhouse 2012    Photo courtesy of Kat Dollarhide    

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat at Tacoma Musical Playhouse 2012

Photo courtesy of Kat Dollarhide


Skip forward a few years in life and I had become deeply depressed. I went to a middle school that was promised to be getting a great performing arts program but after my sixth-grade year, dance, theatre, and choir were all taken away because funding for the programs had fallen through. With my mom now being the households only income and still taking care of three children (one soon to go on to college) we didn’t have the money to do all the theatre camps that I had become a regular attendee at.

I was too scared to tell my mother or even my family about my depression which didn’t help me with feeling valid for my emotions. Everyone who states that they have depression are doubted until they have the doctor's diagnosis. I also didn’t want to admit to failure of living the best life I could in honor of my father, but I knew things would just get worse if I didn’t find a way to cope.

When I entered high school, it had gotten so bad that the only ways I would find relief of my depression was from being an unhealthy person, telling myself that it was my fault my father had died, and doing many regrettable and stupid things, (but that is for another day).

My sophomore year had come around and rumors in my family had been spread around about my depression and unhealthy lifestyle, but no one believed it because I only showed who I used to be to the world and not who I had become. No one believed it until my mother found me crying in the bathroom before school one day. She finally made an appointment and brought me to the doctors.

I got diagnosed with clinical depression and was put on antidepressants and encouraged to seek therapy (however therapy did not seem like a feasible thing due to the expense and inability to connect with a therapist). After four weeks when they finally started working, everyone could tell. I was more flamboyant and always singing and dancing to show-tunes just like my younger self.

However, during this time of healing, my grades were suffering and the possibility of graduating in two years was slipping away before my eyes. I failed two classes which meant I had to spend my summer in school to try and get my credits back. Many of my friends I had made in choir and old theatre friends were going to do a summer theatre camp that I used to attend and would have attended if I could have. When I saw their performance, I wanted to cry because all I wanted to do was be on the stage with them.

At that moment, I decided that it was time for me to get back into the theatre scene and make my mark again. I auditioned for the play “Blithe Spirit” which was going to be put on at a local community theatre and directed by someone who had helped first spark my interest in theatre all together. When I got the call that I would be playing the maid Edith I started screaming of happiness before I even hung up (the stage manager and I laughed about it later because she clearly heard me screaming for joy). I was finally going to be back on the stage and with people who are highly thought of in the theatre scene in my county.

When rehearsals started, I knew that those people and that show would be the show to truly bring me out of my depression. I had a schedule, people who relied on me, and a family who believed in me. That theatre experience was what finally helped me achieve my goal of being a healthy person who didn’t have to rely on supplements to be able to live a semi normal life.

The cast of Blithe Spirit at Tacoma Little Theatre 2017

The cast of Blithe Spirit at Tacoma Little Theatre 2017

It has now been five months since that show closed and I am currently performing in my third community theatre production and in rehearsals for my fourth of my junior year of high school. I reconnected with my old drama teacher in elementary school and assistant directed her production of “Charlotte’s Web” at my old school. I have also been accepted into a performing arts college (yet to decide if I will attend due to financial and such), and am exploring other options for college.

Although it may not seem like such a major triumph to some people, I have had the ability to discover myself again and be the person everyone knows I am again because of theatre and it is truly remarkable. It has always been there and will always be there as a reminder of the first time I felt a connection with my father after his death and the first time I felt free to be myself and come back out of depression again.


No Excuses: How a Teacher's Dedication Changed My Life

Jamie Pavlofsky, originally published on The Mighty on January 24th, 2018

Three weeks after my 10th birthday, I had an experience that would be the beginning of a change in the way I see myself. I walked into the Dayton Jewish Center multipurpose room, hit a button on a CD player, sang my best “Colors of the Wind,” and went home. There was no way I’d get to hear the word yes. No way the kid who looked like me would get a shot. Two days later I got the phone call, informing me that I had been cast into the ensemble of a production of “Fiddler on the Roof.” The seemingly impossible had happened: I was being told yes. After what seemed like a lifetime of being told I couldn’t, I was being given a shot. That was when the theatre bug bit — hard and fast.

My name is Jamie. I’m 29, I live in Ohio, and I have spastic hemiplegic cerebral palsy on my left side. I am a daughter, sister, friend… but perhaps most importantly, I’m a singer and actress with a fierce passion for musical theatre, mostly because I was given the opportunity to feel equal onstage instead of constantly feeling “other”-ed and stigmatized. My whole life — my family life, my personal life, my interactions with people in the healthcare world — up to that point had been defined by what the CP prohibited me from doing or made complicated. But I walked into that first rehearsal at 10 years old and instead of being “the girl with the arm,” I was just Jamie.

Suddenly I mattered. Suddenly I wasn’t able to use the CP as an excuse. Suddenly there was an adult in my life who saw right past it. How refreshing that was! My limits — what I thought I could do — were pushed progressively further with each passing year, but they were taken to a whole new level my final year in the theatre program, which was eighth grade. It was the year of “Oliver,” and it brought about another big change. That show had a set that was anchored by two large platforms, each of which were about eight feet high. Our set designer for the show was also our music director for three previous shows, including that first production of “Fiddler,” so I knew him. But I was afraid of heights.

Unfortunately for me, however, spending the whole show on the ground was not an option. I approached the set designer and said something to the effect of, “I can’t go up there, there’s nothing for me to hold onto. I’m going to fall.” There was no bar on the back of the platforms. He looked me directly in the face and said something I will never forget. “Jamie, don’t tell me you can’t. You were told four years ago that you do not get to make excuses. I will not let you fall. Now go. Put your microphone in your hair like we showed you and go. And I better hear you sing!”

The set designer and previous music director was a guy named Richard. He was about 25 when I met him. He came back into my life in June 2016 when we were both cast in another local production of “Fiddler on the Roof.” He played my father.

Since that show, he has taken me under his wing and developed me as an artist in ways that no one ever has. As of this writing, I have assistant directed two of his productions, and I am getting ready to stage manage a production for him in the spring of 2018. He is also my best friend. He pushes me to my limit and then a little further, just because he taught me that I do not get to make excuses. I am not defined by my disability in his eyes. He sees me as a full, complete, talented, beautiful person and just by being in my life, he reminds me that I am loved.

Richard and I,  Fiddler on the Roof, taken October 2016.

Richard and I, Fiddler on the Roof, taken October 2016.

Jamie Pavlofsky- Midwesterner - receptionist by day, actor/teaching artist by night. Passionate about music, theatre, performing, anything Broadway!