Featured image: Photograph by Anna LeBourdais
When I signed on as Props Lead for Ajax Community Theatre’s production of Having Hope at Home, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was getting myself into. I knew props mattered. I knew they supported the story. But I didn’t fully understand just how much storytelling, collaboration, improvisation, and ingenuity lived in that one backstage role — until I was right in the middle of it.
What I quickly discovered is that props are far more than objects placed in actors’ hands. They are quiet partners in the performance. They shape mood, define character, and — when done right — become part of the world so naturally that the audience never questions them. And that, truly, is the magic.
A Production Full of “Little Things That Matter”
Having Hope at Home turned out to be what I lovingly call a “prop-heavy show.”
There were the obvious items, of course — the boxes, the dishes, the things that needed to be carried, handled, or placed with precision.
But then there were the details that most audience members never see:
- A Birks box
- A wedding-dress storage box
- Real food that actors actually interacted with
- Personal items actors requested to help them settle into their characters
- Objects that sat on a nightstand or in a drawer that never even opened.
These tiny pieces — the ones hidden from view — matter deeply to the people onstage. They help actors feel grounded, enhance the realism of the performance, and build a world that feels lived-in rather than decorated.
I found myself constantly thinking:
Does this feel true? Does this feel like something this character would have touched, saved, or treasured?
The answer had to be yes.
The Breakout Star: The Turkey
And of course… the turkey.
Every performance sparked a different audience reaction. Sometimes laughter. Sometimes surprise. Sometimes the kind of warm recognition that travels through a crowd like a wave. It became its own character in the show — and it delighted me every single night to see how something so simple could land so differently depending on the energy of the room.
In community theatre, these moments are gold. They remind you that props aren’t just objects — they’re catalysts for connection.
The Set Piece That Stole the Show
Then there was the wood stove.
Designed and constructed by the immensely talented set designer, it was made from foamcore, painted to perfection, with tiny lights tucked inside to mimic a glowing fire. It wasn’t a “prop” in the strictest sense — it was a set piece — but it represented everything I loved about working backstage: creativity, resourcefulness, imagination, and an unwavering love for theatre.
Every time I saw that stove onstage, it made me smile. It was an emblem of what’s possible when people show up with passion and skill.
Learning on My Feet
Being Props Lead taught me quickly that the role is equal parts:
- detective
- shopper
- builder
- organizer
- collaborator
- quiet problem-solver.
It pushed me.
It stretched me.
And it reminded me that learning something new — at any age and at any stage of life — is energizing, challenging, and deeply rewarding.
There were moments of panic (“Where did I put that box?”), moments of pride (“That looks better than I expected”), and many moments of laughter backstage as we worked together to pull the show across the finish line.
Why I Would Do It Again
This experience gave me a new appreciation for everyone who works behind the scenes. Props, costumes, lighting, sound, design — none of it is glamorous in the moment. It’s messy, chaotic, and filled with problem-solving you can’t rehearse.
But it’s also where some of the richest theatre magic is born.
Being Props Lead reminded me that stepping outside your comfort zone isn’t just brave — it’s invigorating. And it brought me even closer to a community I truly love.
And yes… I would absolutely do it again.
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