By Richard Skipper***Recently, I went to The Laurie Beechman Theatre to see Robert Driemeyer‘s Broadway Barfly with Stephanie Pope as special guest. I had a wonderful time, but something else stayed with me after the evening was over. I was reminded of how much happens when we make the decision to leave our homes, go to a live event and spend time in the company of other people.
That may sound obvious, but I don’t think we can take it for granted anymore. We live in a world where almost everything is available without leaving the house. We can watch concerts, revisit television appearances, listen to recordings and find interviews with our favorite entertainers whenever we want. I appreciate having access to all of that, particularly as someone who has spent more than twenty-five years researching and preserving the history of those that have come before us.
But there’s a difference between watching something and being there. When you’re sitting in an audience, you’re participating in an experience that will never happen in quite the same way again. The entertainer responds to the room. Someone laughs unexpectedly. A story leads to another story. A familiar song takes on a different meaning because of something that happened earlier in the evening.
Those moments cannot be duplicated. I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit as I prepare for my return to San Francisco on October 30, after twenty-five years away. When I consider everything that has happened in my life during those years, I’m struck by how many people have contributed to the journey. Some offered opportunities. Others offered encouragement. A few gave me advice I didn’t necessarily appreciate at the time but came to understand later.
All of them, in one way or another, helped shape the entertainer I am today. That is also at the heart of my current show, Richard Skipper Celebrates! Life Lessons from Legends. I ask audiences to submit questions before the show, and those questions become part of the evening. I don’t know exactly where the conversation will go, and neither does anyone else.
I like that uncertainty. On November 21, I’ll be returning to The Laurie Beechman Theatre with Sandy Duncan and Don Correia. Both have spent their lives working in an industry that demands persistence, flexibility and an ability to keep learning. I’m interested in the people who influenced them, the experiences that changed their thinking and the lessons they’ve carried forward.
Those are conversations I want to have while we still have the opportunity. I’m particularly conscious of that last point because of my work as a LIVE ENTERTAINMENT historian. I’ve interviewed more than a thousand people through Richard Skipper Celebrates and the larger entertainment community. Again and again, I’ve discovered that the most revealing stories aren’t necessarily about opening nights, awards, or famous names.
They’re about relationships. They’re about the colleague who offered a helping hand, the director who saw something nobody else recognized or the audience member whose response reminded an entertainer why the work mattered.
And they’re about the people who showed up. I also think we need to recognize the practical importance of attendance. Producing LIVE entertainment costs money. Musicians, technicians, theatre employees, directors and countless others depend on audiences making the choice to purchase tickets. A compliment on social media is appreciated. Sharing an announcement is helpful. But buying a ticket and occupying a seat makes an immediate difference. I’m not suggesting that everyone can attend every show. Time, money, geography and personal circumstances all play a part. But when we have the opportunity, I hope we’ll consider what our presence means. And when we enjoy something, let’s tell people about it. An entertainer may never know that a particular evening changed someone’s perspective or brought back a treasured memory unless that person takes a moment to say so.
As I continue traveling, interviewing and celebrating the people who have devoted their lives to entertaining others, I’m increasingly aware that the audience is not separate from the story. The audience helps create it. Marilyn Maye has often reminded me that the audience is the star. I carry that philosophy into every show I do.
The next time you attend a performance, take a moment to look around before the lights go down. Every person in that room has made a choice to be there. For the next hour or two, you’re all sharing something that exists only because you’ve come together. That’s worth celebrating. And it’s one more reason I’ll keep showing up.
Richard Skipper is an entertainer, producer, host of Richard Skipper Celebrates and LIVE ENTERTAINMENT historian. His work celebrates the people, stories and traditions that continue to shape the entertainment community.
