ABCs of Broadway

Accompanist: A piano player for hire. The accompanist is the modern-day equivalent of the Old West gunslinger. When he struts in everyone gets quiet, and then he sits quietly scowling in the corner by the piano. Like the cavalcade of famous gunslingers of old, the accompanist can either be a stone-cold, dead-eyed killer, nailing his target every time, or the bumbling drunk with the sideways hat with the arrow through it who pulls the trigger before his gun leaves the holster. In this analogy it's helpful to think of the piano as the gun, not the holster.

Breakdown: Casting directors release breakdowns to agents and managers to specify what types they're looking for on any given project. Can you guess the following roles by their breakdowns? "SEEKING: Female, 20s-early 30s, high belt, strong actor, needs to have a degenerative skin disease with gangrenous side-effects OR must not be allergic to green body paint." Or "SEEKING: Male, 20s, high-baritone or tenor, Jason Priestly haircut a plus, must be willing to let one hand and wrist grow inordinately stronger than the other by having it up a puppet for the better part of a year. Must wear puppet home."

Business, The: Short for Show Business. There are two parts to The Business, the part where the work is done and the part where the work is done to get the work. The latter part, commonly called schmoozing, can take the form of the "impromptu sidewalk kibitz", the "tipsy bar fawn", or the "chronic benefit performance". Except for the "chronic benefit performance", schmoozing is where you will see some of the most incredible acting in your life.

Casting Director: Like the multi-headed mythical beast Cerberus, the casting director lives in a limbo world, functioning as both gate guardian and devourer of anyone trying to return to the land of the living, metaphorically speaking. He or she is responsible for bringing the director and the creative team appropriate casting choices, i.e. big, burly men for Edna Turnblad, diminutive, spunky girls for Baby June. A bad casting director would bring in the diminutive, spunky girls for Edna Turnblad and the big, burly men for Baby June. However there are no bad casting directors.

Company Manager: One of the most fundamentally attractive people, both intellectually and physically, that you are likely to meet, the company manager emits a very pleasing musk that makes you want to be near them. Their breath has an undercurrent of freshly picked sprigs of mint and real strawberries. If you've ever had the opportunity to shake hands with one, you'll agree that it is the driest, most comforting sensation you've experienced, like caressing a heavenly pillow. I believe the stories I've heard of company managers performing feats of great physical and emotional heroism, such as lifting tractor-trailer trucks off of helpless puppies and carrying around the proper wrench to defy "The Man" by opening up fire hydrants for dehydrated children on sweltering days. They know all the best, most hilarious jokes. Also, the company manager hands you your paycheck every week.

Equity or Actors' Equity Association: The labor union for theatre actors and stage managers. One of its bylaws is that a member may not mock the union in print. Actually this is its only bylaw.

Fourth Wall: The imaginary wall which separates the stage from the audience. In 1999, in the case of Crawford v. Mugging, the Supreme Court ruled that all subsequent musicals must acknowledge the fourth wall, and then summarily break it. With the Court in its current state of upheaval, pundits worry that this ruling may be overturned and audiences may have to suffer through another winking shortage.

Half-Hour: The first of several time-incremented calls, or backstage announcements, counting down to "places" for the top, or beginning, of the show. All actors are required to sign in by half-hour or face severe penalties. Unless said actor was on a TV show with a recognizable car. Then, never mind.

Headshot: I ask you to preemptively get your mind out of the gutter when I call this an actor's tool. It's basically a photograph that an actor passes around that is better-looking than they are in real-life. This is accomplished by smearing Vaseline on the camera lens or, in some extreme instances, on the face itself. Actors usually have two contrasting looks, one "constipated," the other "forced whimsy."

House: The term "Broadway House" means the whole theater, whereas the term "The House" means specifically the part of the theater where the audience sits. "House Music" is tuneless noise backed by a fat beat. "To House" someone is to physically or strategically dominate them on the urban battlefield or in a fictional rap contest. The cult TV show House, starring Hugh Laurie, is neither based on nor inspired by the cult film House, starring William Katt, but Hugh Laurie and William Katt allegedly shared a dorm room in campus "Housing" during the late 70's. I just blew my mind.

Ibsen, Henrik: 1828-1906 A Norwegian playwright responsible for unmasking the romantic hero. It is posited that he is the most-performed dramatist after Shakespeare. Dense, heady and brilliant stuff. At least that's what I've been told. I mean, I vaguely remember writing a ten page paper on Rosmersholm in college comparing it to Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. Got a B-! Go to college, kids.

Orchestra Pit or simply "The Pit": This is the underground cavern where the musicians ply their trade. Other people or things that work in pits include gladiators, game cocks, paleontologists, and, in a roundabout way, olive merchants. It is a proud list.

Places or "Beginners" to the Brits: The stage manager's call of "places" is the signal for the actors to wend their way lugubriously to the stage, stopping only for the occasional donut or hushed pocket of rumor-mongering. In movies, the "places" call is excised to nail-biting effect so that we may see pre-pubescent ballerinas and live bears scrambling manically behind the star who just barely makes her entrance and whose singing voice should be dubbed.

Playbill: Like Kleenex, this name brand has become synonymous with the product it produces, in this case theater programs. An inside tip: In the "Celebrity Choice" section, where an actor recommends his favorite area restaurant, the "celebrity" doesn't actually "choose" their restaurant or write the little blurb. So when some poor schmuck describes the Bacon-Smoked Double-Fried Smothered Chicken at Appleby's as "succulent," don't judge him too harshly. He's just in it for the exposure and the free meal. If you want to you can judge him on that last part, though.

Presetting: Meticulous preparations made to facilitate a quick costume change or prop hand-off. Failure to preemptively de-cellophane a simple butterscotch or properly pool a pair of pants on the floor to make them "step-right-in-able" can grind a multi-million dollar show to a halt.

Rehearsal Studio: These are rentable spaces peppered throughout the city, some shiny and modern, some rat-infested and decrepit, where shows rehearse. Some of the more modern and expensive studios are so nice that you can't tap dance on the pristine floors, rearrange the furniture, sing too loudly, or eat and drink. Under these circumstances everyone just stands paralyzed in a shivering, huddled mass in the middle of the room unable to get the creative juices flowing until five weeks later… Voila! The Jukebox Musical! See: Kick Them When They're Down

Sharpie: An indispensable fine point permanent marker. Studies show that actors who carry Sharpies on their person are 64% more likely to cut down on awkward "let-me-just-fish-out-my-pen" chit-chat with random fans and 78% more likely to think of themselves as more important in the grand scheme of things than they actually are.

Sign In: The actor is physically and emotionally unable to perform any living function until he or she has signed in. Here for an audition? Sign in. Early for rehearsal? Sign in. Late for half-hour? Sign in. Reservation at a swank restaurant? Sign in. Explosive case of the trots? Sign in quickly.

Stage Door: The actor's only way in or out of the theater. Actors caught using an unauthorized exit, even to avoid stalkers or electrical fire, may be crucified legally online. Equity is working on making this its second bylaw.

Stage Manager: For all intents and purposes, the unsung hero of the Great American Stage. A vast majority of them have been driven insane by juggling duties that range from baby-wrangling to highlighter-sorting, from star-placating to producer-pacifying, from schedule-crunching to tight-black-vest-wearing, from scofflaw-chastising to making sure no one gets killed by a two-ton piece of scenery-ing. On top of all that, they have a choke-hold on underground, international Ricola distribution.

Upstage: When an actor faces the audience, upstage is the equivalent of South on the compass. Anything distracting happening behind the actor, like a sad clown balancing on a beach ball or a streaking child or a jump-roping schoolmarm, is officially upstaging him. An actor can upstage himself, but this being a family-friendly column I won't go into details.

Wig Prep: A temporary facelift. The hair is pulled back away from the sagging skin of the face, then twisted into tight "curls" and "pinned" down to create "pin-curls". No one knows where they got the name. Then the "wig cap" basically the business end of a panty hose is pulled taut over the head and pinned to the pin curls. Voila! Wigs slip on and off with no sticky residue. If you see gaggles of tall women with long, false eye-lashes and Golde-style babushkas scurrying around Times' Square on Wednesdays and Saturdays, pity them not, for they are not suffering from whatever Julia Roberts had in Dying Young. They are actresses too lazy to remove their wig prep between shows.