More Ghost Stuff

This is a picture of the "Ghost light" on the set of my show at the Cape Playhouse. A ghost light is the work light that stays on after everyone has left the theatre for the night. Some nonbelievers will tell you that it is a safety issue to light the stage when the show is over. However, the tradition was born more of superstition than safety.

Providing a safety light on stage when the theatre is closed and the stage is empty seems a little odd to me. Most believe that the ghost light is used to keep the ghosts of the theatre happy so that mischief does not ensue. Neither reason seems to be logical in the truest sense. However, almost every legitimate theatre has some sort of ghost light shining all night on stage.

The ghost light for the Cape Playhouse is draped with the fox shawl worn by Gertrude Lawrence in several of her performances here. There is no doubt that as far as the staff of this theatre goes, Gertie is the specter that must be appeased.

I was told that if she was pleased she would make herself known. Since I share her dressing room I always greet her first thing in the evening and when I leave at night. During the performances I was closing my door (or her door as the case may be). I wondered last night if maybe she preferred that the door be left open. As I left for stage I opened it half way and said, "I'm not sure if you want this open or closed, Gertie." When I returned to the dressing room, after the show, the door was opened all the way. As I walked in there was the distinct smell of perfume. I asked Chelsey the wardrobe girl if she had come into my dressing room during the show. She had actually gone to watch the show from the audience. I asked what kind of perfume she was wearing and she said she wasn't. Recounting the story to Evans, the artistic director, he said that indeed there were occasional hints of Gertrude's perfume wafting through areas of the theater when she wanted to be noticed. I guess she wants the door open... open it is. Her theatre, her rules... I'm just a visiting thespian.
As you were,
Jay