So you wanna be a professional actor, hunh? Well, for a lot of people, it starts at places like the Warehouse Theater on 7th Street N.W.

In the mainstage performance space, the stage is about 20 feet square, surfaced with bits and pieces of a really noisy plywood. There is a U-shaped gallery running along the back and sides, with a broad but steep escape stairway stage left. As configured for us, there are about 90 seats for the audience, on a moderately raked set of stepped platforms; you could probably add another row of 15 down front. Some weird sight lines from the back of the house up to the gallery, due to two angled beams holding up the roof.

There are no curtains, and from what I can tell, few options for the lighting designer. A lot of the spare equipment is stored under the seating platforms, and keeps spilling out into our travel lanes backstage. At the cast's insistence, Laurie brought in a baby monitor so that we can hear what's going on from the dressing room. I see a couple of big speakers that we haven't used.

The dressing area facilities are low-average by local community theater standards, similar in many ways to what you find at the Industrial Strength Theater in Herndon. The community center theaters in Reston and McLean are posh in comparison. There is access to a bathroom, but otherwise no running water. No privacy curtains, so check your modesty at the door. There are several mirrors (which were filthy when we moved in on Monday, as was the floor). The air conditioning works well. Really, my biggest complaint with the backstage accommodations is that they're not sufficiently large for the cast of 19 that we have; they would be comfortable for six or ten. "My space," where I can store my makeup box, is the top shelf of a rickety industrial shelving unit.

Ah, but it is way cool to be performing downtown, nominally for a production that pays. (It's unlikely that I'll clear carfare money from this production.) It's a great feeling to walk out of the theater at the end of the evening, into the night, just like the big dogs, even if it's only onto a rather barren stretch of 7th Street. (One other club on our block; blank face of the new convention center across the street.) This evening I was downtown early, so I had dinner at Andale in the gallery district, and then walked up the street past Hooters and the great archway into Chinatown and fadó, the Irish pub. And I thought, It's 6:12 on a Friday night, and here I am, walking to work.

posted: 12:18:47 AM