The Ghost in The Black Box Theater

It was a warm sunny day in London. I had just left a market and had my sandwich in hand and script in the other. I made my way up the street to my theater school nervously repeating my lines in my head.

Today was my final rehearsal of 'The Scottish Play', known to most as 'Macbeth', with my scene partner Houston, and my Drama Teacher, who shall be known as D.T. We had been assigned the schools Black Box theater as our rehearsal space. This was an area of the school I was not familiar with.

The Royal Academy of Dramatic Art was a large school filled with creative working spaces, a large theater, and this part of the school was the first time I had gained access to. I was studying over the summer and every time I walked into school scanning my ID my heart would skip a little from the joy it brought me.

This was one of the most prestigious acting schools in the world and I had something to prove to myself. I wanted to be great and I loved Shakespeare. Ever since I was young and saw Much Ado About Nothing for the very first time, I knew I had a real connection and now there I was. As I made my way to the theater I double checked the time. I had purposely arrived early so I could eat a little lunch and run my lines over again in the space.

I walked down the stairs and discovered that there weren't lights on yet. I quickly located the switch and lit the space. It was a large room covered wall to wall in long black curtains from the ceiling to the floor. I found a chair and settled myself opening the plastic container to my sandwich and began to eat while reading my script. When I finished my sandwich I began reading the lines out loud in the space to get a feel for the room.

Now, let me explain something about the 'Scottish Play'. There is something about performing this particular play that separates this play between others. It's cursed and there are rules every actor should follow. Rules that shouldn't be broken.

Here I am an American sitting in the basement alone, in a black box theater, saying the lines and saying Macbeth's name aloud, like an idiot, calmly eating my sandwich.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind the curtain of the back wall and the curtain moved slightly. "Hello?" I called out to no reply. I thought, maybe there is another space behind the black curtain and someone was walking through. After all it's not uncommon to have people moving between spaces. But it didn't stop there.

I went back to my lines repeating them out loud and I heard footsteps walking behind the curtain and it moved with whomever was walking behind it. "Hello?"

This time the person started pacing. Yes, pacing, and the curtain continued to move. I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. I nervously went to grab my bag and stood up. The pacing was beginning to be deliberate and heavy footed. Almost agressive and just as I was about to leave the theater D.T. showed up.

She walked in with her bag and warmly greeted me. "Hello there dear."

I was grateful to see her and greeted her. She could tell something was a bit off. "Are you alright?"

I pointed to the back curtain and asked, "I heard someone walking back there."

Her body language suddenly became tense and her face squished together in a way I had never seen. "What do you mean?"

Just as I was about to explain my scene partner Houston arrived looking a bit tired. He lazily greeted us, "Hey."

We both turned to face him and quickly said our hellos. I then pointed to the back curtain, "Is there another space back there?"

D.T. shook her head no looking a bit dazed. "No dear, it's just a curtain."

"That curtain kept moving as someone was pacing back and forth. I swear, it was moving with someone. It made me nervous because no one was responding when I called out a hello and I was just about to leave when you entered. Then whoever it was left."

Houston asked, "Wait, what happened?"

D.T. Set her stuff down on a chair and softly said, "Follow me."

I followed just as she wished and she pulled the black curtain to the side revealing a brick wall. YES, a brick wall. I stood there completely shocked trying to process what I had seen and heard.

Houston approached us and asked, "what's going on?"

"I heard someone pacing back and forth behind the curtain while I was rehearsing."

"Out loud?" D.T. asked.

"Yes."

"You were saying your lines out loud?"

"Yes."

"Oh dear."

Confused I asked, "Why oh dear?"

"'Let me explain something to you about 'The Scottish Play'." She paused with a thoughtful look on her face, almost searching for her words and then continued. "This play needs to always be approached carefully dear."

"What do you mean?"

She then proceeded to explain the 'RULES' and that I most likely upset 'SOMEONE', possibly an 'ACTOR' for not being respectful in the space. She even told me, I should maybe apologize before we proceed if we offended whomever it was.

Sure enough I found myself politely explaining to our unknown guest that we were simply there to rehearse our play and so I could do the best performance I possibly could. I felt absolutely ridiculous but when I had finished apologizing the room somehow felt a bit lighter.

So as respectfully as possible Houston and I proceeded to begin rehearsal of our play as she directed us. I might have looked over my shoulder a few times feeling like a ghost my sneak up and insist on my replacement. From that day forward I have always treaded carefully when performing or discussing 'The Scottish Play'. Even sharing this story made me a bit nervous.

Yes this is a true story. No, I didn't take any liberties.