The Student Newspaper of The Loomis Chaffee School

The Loomis Chaffee Log

The Student Newspaper of The Loomis Chaffee School

The Loomis Chaffee Log

The Student Newspaper of The Loomis Chaffee School

The Loomis Chaffee Log

What we’re thankful for
What we’re thankful for
February 11, 2024
Prepare for cold
Prepare for cold
February 11, 2024
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Black Box theater performance done in pitch black

Riveting+performance-work+by+Loomiss+talented+cast+and+crew
Ellen Chen
Riveting performance-work by Loomis’s talented cast and crew

Brigham Cooper ’24
Staff Writer
PITCH Black Box Theater Performance

A couple weeks ago, the NEO welcomed its first show of the year in the Black Box. I, an unsuspecting audience member, had absolutely no clue what to expect.

I walked into the Nichols Center at 7:15pm with a friend. We were alone. The lights were off. The fogged dance studio windows in front of us reflected exactly what we saw: nothing. I started to get nervous. Last year’s shows were nothing like this—Hamlet was dark, sure, and Cabaret was … also dark, but the lights were blinding! Maybe the lack of light is intentional. After some thought, I concluded that it was novelly abstract. I loved it.

A freshman walked in and stood alongside us. Ten seconds hadn’t even passed but he was already halfway out the door. Then, the Black Box doors opened. There was no discernable figure or entity in the doorway. My friend and I looked at each other in the darkness and began inching closer towards the door. A voice bellowed from the Black Box: “Welcome!” I screamed a shrill cry that echoed around the lobby — my timbers shivered and my spirit was utterly spooked.

“Welcome, students!” the voice continued. “Come on in, take a seat! The show will start soon!”
As a longtime patron of the NEO, I do admit that this was a bit absurd, even for them. Yes, the Love of 3 Oranges was crazy, but this was on a whole other level. But, we had already come so far, so we felt it necessary to press on. Despite the darkness, we entered the Black Box and took our seats.

The ten minutes of waiting in that box felt like waiting in the line during Wednesday lunch — those seconds felt like hours, I was surrounded by unfamiliar smells, and there was a weird sense of judgment in the air? Suddenly, people started talking and acting. I couldn’t really tell. Were they podcasting? I think I understood what was going on, but I wasn’t quite sure. At the end, there was a five-minute-long pause, and the show seemed to be over, so we walked out of the NEO having felt every emotion imaginable.

As I made my way back to my non pitch-black dorm, one thing remained in my mind: what did I just experience?

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