1963, Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz at Camp Nahelu, Brighton, MI
Like so many very shy youngsters, I was drawn to the theater at a young age as a way to hide myself by exploring other identities. Elaine Zeve, my dear second grade teacher, saw something in me and encouraged me to explore other characters to become more self-assured. This story will be a pictorial review of my acting career from 1963-college, when it drew to a close.
Gretel in “Hansel and Gretel”, 5th grade, 1963
Louis Pasteur Elementary School, Detroit
I grabbed this photo of myself as Gretel from 5th grade in the all-school production (K-8) from my father’s home movies. He had me put on my costume and act out a scene in our living room so he could capture me for his movie. The choir sang all the parts, but I acted the role and was thrilled to be cast for the sold-out show.
The Featured photo depicts me as Dorothy in “The Wizard of Oz” at a Jewish overnight camp: Camp Nahelu, which I attended for two summers before heading north to the National Music Camp in Interlochen, Michigan. You can see my name on the program and I carry my brother’s terrier stuffed animal as Toto. It was my first singing lead. I was 10 years old.
As a Junior Girl at the National Music Camp in 1964, I was in Drama Workshop. We did not put on any productions. In Intermediate Girls, the next two summers, we had to choose between majoring in Drama or Operetta, as they met at the same time. I always chose Operetta, so was in the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta both summers, directed by Dude Stevenson and Mel Larimer. We performed in full costume at 4 weeks and did a “knicker production” (no costumes, limited staging, no professional photos) at 8 weeks. I was always in the chorus. I have a decent voice, but not good enough for a lead.
Mikado, 1965
I am standing on the right, front row, second person in. We are wearing black wigs, but the kimono was my own, brought by my aunt from a trip to Japan.
Iolanthe, 1966
I am on the floor down front, gazing longingly at Captain Shaw, face in profile. We are fairies. Iolanthe is my favorite of the G&S operettas. They all have silly plots, but the music is lovely.
I went to high school in 1966 and had an opportunity to appear in plays at my school, as well as camp. I never had a lead in high school, but always worked on makeup, becoming the head of that department, planning and implementing the makeup for all the large shows at the school.
I was not accepted as a drama major that first summer in HSG division (I was the next summer), so put together a series of other classes. Operetta was no longer a major and over 100 students participated in the late afternoon fun class, including instrument majors. It was just great to be in the chorus with Dude and Ken Jewell (a renown Michigan choral conductor). At this point, the leads were on their way to careers in opera.
Blind girl in Miracle Worker, freshman year, high school
Mikado, 1967
National Music Camp
Mikado, 1967, professional photo
Randi/chorus in Bye Bye Birdie, sophomore year, I am in my “mother’s” arms, horrified seeing Conrad on the ground.
Dondero High School
Hamlet, 1968
National Music Camp
I was a “player” in the play within the play. You can see me behind Gertrude, upper left of the photo
Princess Ida, 1968 (I’m Chloe at the end of the first row on the right)
Elaine in Arsenic and Old Lace, junior year
Dondero High School
Light Up the Sky, 1969 Act I, I played the role of Irene Livingston, the glamorous actress, originated by Kitty Carlisle on Broadway
National Music Camp
Light Up the Sky, 1969
Act II
National Music Camp
The Sorcerer, 1969
(before the opening, as captured by the camp photographer)
National Music Camp
Overture for The Sorcerer, 1969
National Music Camp
National Music Camp, 1969. Scene from The Sorcerer; “All is prepared for sealing and for signing. The contract has been drafted as agreed.”
As Hermia (with Lysander, before the show) in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, 1969
National Music Camp
“Midsummer”, 1969
National Music Camp
Alma Hicks (Mayor’s wife best friend) in Music Man, senior year
Dondero High School, 1970
Off to Brandeis in September, 1970, where I majored in Theatre Arts. I appeared in various shows (including more Gilbert and Sullivan) where, as I grew in confidence and technique, I did have leading roles.
The Devils, 1970
chorus member; first Main Stage show at Brandeis
Ruddigore, 1971, Freshman year
Poster from Orientation Show, 1971
On the right end of second row; student written and directed show
Chorus, Sophomore year
Gianetta, Gondoliers, 1972
Sophomore year
Gondoliers, 1972
Production shot
Til Like a Dream, 1972
Theatre workshop group, performed outside the student union in May
1972, Sarah Brown, “If I Were a Swing”
FINALLY, a lead in a Main Stage production
As I wrote about in Follow the Fold and Stray No More, I gave up the acting dream after this performance. I student taught first semester of my senior year (of course – drama and acting), so was unavailable to even audition. Second semester, my closest friend, Michael Allosso, cast me in two of his shows in the small “Theater 3”, used for student directors at the time. I was Clea in “Black Comedy”, the ex-girlfriend who shows up to provoke mischief. For his Senior Honors Thesis, he directed (in Spanish), “An Evening with García Lorca”. One of the poems he acted out was “Le esposa infiel” (The Faithless Wife). This is a famous, multi-stanza blank-verse poem. Michael had a guitar player, seated at a table, with a glass of wine, strum a classic “Malagueña”, while I danced (choreographed by another mutual friend), acting out the poem with my dancing, to stunning effect as someone else recited the poem.
By this time, I was known as a top stage manager and was recruited to stage manage the complicated production of “Lenny” in Theatre 2, which at the time was a black box theater. It was set up with wagons to pull set pieces on and off the stage to become the night club where Lenny performed (nothing automated in 1974). It had over 200 cues. My “prompt book” (the master script with all the stage directions, cues for stage and light calls) was huge.
Also, the director and costume designer did not get along, so I was their go-between. The grad student cast as “Hot Honey Harlow” (not the real name of Lenny’s wife, but he did marry a stripper, as portrayed by Valerie Perrine in the multiple Oscar-nominated 1974 Dustin Hoffman movie), was not comfortable in her own body, so the director asked me to teach her how to walk in heels and a bikini. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the Theater department considered this project to be my honors thesis and I was awarded departmental honors for it. I gave my original program to the Lenny Bruce archives when they were donated to Brandeis a few years ago.
Later that summer, the show transferred to a professional theater in Boston with the same director and leading man. The director came to visit me in our first apartment; we were newlyweds in the summer of 1974. He asked for my book, but did not offer me the job of stage manager. I was not a member of Actor’s Equity (the professional union), so could not get the job. I was livid, but eventually, gave up my precious book. He gave us free tickets to the show. That is the closest I’ve been to the inner workings of the theater in almost 50 years.
Betsy PfauRetired from software sales long ago, two grown children. Theater major in college. Singer still, arts lover, involved in art museums locally (Greater Boston area). Originally from Detroit area.
What an incredible collection of memories and theater memorabilia! I can sense from your narrative — but also our long friendship — how theater became your “safe place” of acceptance and belonging but also a source of disappointment that you were not able to progress further. I wonder: Do you now view all these memories as an important youthful rite of passage to your adult identify, or mixed with longing, much like Spielberg’s mother in “The Fabelmans?”
Regardless, I cherish our shared theatrical experiences and your memorable performances!
John, you pose such an interesting question. I needed to take a moment to consider it. Being among my friends in the theater world was certainly my “safe place”, but for many years, the roles I was cast in led to disappointment, as you are well-aware. Even in “Guys and Dolls”, I felt I gave a better audition than final performance and that was an awful feeling. I think with age and experience, I was probably better equipped to convey true emotions, but never had the time to find out and that’s fine. I learned that I could put my communication skills to great advantage in the sales area, so I never looked back with regret or longing at what might have been. I took years of adult ballet. I sing in a good chorus. That has satisfied my artistic expressive needs through the years.
I love your thoughtful answer, which totally rings true. It’s similar for me; the writing and storytelling skills I might have used more creatively turned out to be much more valuable in the corporate world. Meanwhile, I have had plenty of creative outlets over the years. And occasionally the two worlds converge, Ms. “Moon Unit” Pfau!
Thank you for posing the challenging, thought-provoking question, John. And I understand how it also played out for you. I’ve told my “Moon Unit” story to my children. David tells me that he’s run across that particular vestige on the Internet. Some things just have a life of their own, even if we know the truth from that long-ago drive to Muir Woods.
Loved your story, Betsy, and also your answer to John’s thought-provoking question. Your pictures, as always, are superb. And I’m intrigued by the show called “I’m Not a Virgin if That’s What You Mean.”
I did Drama Workshop at NMC, Junior Division, and Drama again in my one year in Intermediate. Seeing all the fun you had, I wish I had chosen Operetta instead. Can I go back 60 years and have a do-over?
Ah Suzy, “wouldn’t it be loverly” if we could go back 60 years and have a “do-over”? My cabin mate in 1965, Christie, was in Drama production instead of Operetta. She learned her lesson, switched over the next summer, even remained in Intermediate the following summer when I stepped up to High School so she could get a lead (which she did); I was eager for the freedom that came with the high school division, though stunned that I was not accepted as a Drama Major. I made the best of it (I took Vocal Technique and Costumes to fill in the time).
The statement posed in that poster from the orientation show was in answer to the question, “Are you a freshman?” The complete phrase was, “I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you mean, but you wouldn’t understand that.” I hope that answers your question. Inside joke.
Betsy, I knew of your thespian past and your amazing collection of photos, but this story takes the cake!
What a great theatrical run you had!
Thanks Dana. But I wasn’t able to have my cake and eat it too! 🙂
Whew, what an absolutely amazing journey you’ve had in ‘theater’. I loved all the pics in your story and the beautiful range of the characters you portrayed. The magic, the music, the rush you obviously experienced is incredible and forever yours. The circumstances that seemed to keep you from sometimes getting to where you wanted to be seemed petty and unfair. But from someone who adores the stage and everyone involved, I am totally impressed by you and your art. All I can say Betsy, is bravo.
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Thank you, Patty. I did enjoy being involved in all those theater productions, long ago though they might have been. Now I enjoy seeing the pros ply their craft. I can really appreciate what it takes to do it well.
I’m glad you still do participate in a chorus and took adult ballet–and that you had so much theatre experience in your youth. As you said, it came in handy in sales, and you still have the love of theatre inside you. And all the pictures to prove it–a treat to see them.
My first love was ballet, Khati. When I was 7 I wanted to be a ballerina, but I was a sickly kid and missed too many classes, so my fancy turned to theatre (a close relative to ballet, and not as physically demanding). I think I took it as far as my talent allowed. Glad you enjoyed my photos. I had a good run. I am currently rehearsing the Brahms German Requiem, to be performed in May. It is demanding and gorgeous music. No complaints here.
How lucky you were to have so many opportunities in theater, both as a performer and back stage. I know this had a huge impact on your life growing up.
Those friends I made at camp (many are depicted in these photos) remain my very dear friends to this day; close, intimate friends with whom I can share everything. So it wasn’t just about being in the shows, but as John points out – it was my “safe space” and being with like-minded people. It did have a huge impact on me, Laurie, and continues to, in all sorts of ways.
That is a sad scene when you give up your cherished book for a bowl of thin soup, and then (like in the recent Disney gem, Encanto, when the enchanted world goes dark) your theater magic seems to snap. Could you have joined Actors Equity? Was the director a cad? As a reader I wished you had, despite a million reasons why not, persevered on the boards and with the greasepaint, and won the damn Tony.
Thanks for the endorsement, Jon. As I recall, joining Actor’s Equity was sort of a Catch 22. You had to already have a professional job (like summer stock) and that would enable you to join the union. In this case, I couldn’t GET the job without that card. The director had to gone to Brandeis as an undergrad (Class of ’69) before coming back for his MFA. He wasn’t a cad, just trying to get ahead in a tough profession. We got along well (I think he genuinely respected the work I did for him on the show), but he needed the book so he didn’t have to recreate it (he probably couldn’t have). Dan started grad school that autumn (Harvard, naturally), so I needed to get a full-time job anyway, which I did in August.
Hey! You aren’t allowed to use the expression “Catch 22” during a week in which someone else responded to the prompt with a story about Joseph Heller!
What an amazing cavalcade of performances, and impressive that you’re able to document so many of them with photos. Like others, I found your exchange with John Z. meaningful and interesting; and like Jonathan, I was wishing for you to fight for a different outcome in “giving up your book.” You held your audience the entire time.
Thank you, Dale- for your care and concern about my future as a thespian and your righteous indignation that the director took my “book”. All long ago now, and it turned out fine, perhaps a bit tough to live through in real time. Glad you enjoyed my photos!
Betsy, what a wonderful series of adventures you have had on — and around — the live theater stage! If I had it to do over, I think I would have gone the Theater Arts route myself, although I think my self-consciousness would have blunted that effort. In any event, I loved your story and especially all the great photos from yesteryear. Well done!
Thank you, Jim. Glad you enjoyed my tale from yesteryear, photos and all. Theater can be fun but also frustrating and self-consciousness is certainly an impediment, but many of us are, if truth be told. I think it hampered me in many ways too. I’m not sure I ever found the inner truth of a character.
I really enjoyed this look into the inner workings of the theater, which I tried to enter here in Chicago years ago, but found it a pretty closed shop. Maybe if I’d succumbed to the advances of the drunk actor who tried to seduce me one night…. Which is a funny little story in itself.
Whether to try and succeed partially (“partially,” of course, being a very personal measurement) is better than to bomb out fast and early is a question I have occasionally struggled with myself.
Thanks, Dave. Everyone has their own tolerance level, but fun to try. Now you’ve got to tell us the story you allude to here!