Dear diary…

A victim of unforgivable crimes, Anne Frank led a joyous life in a diary she shared with the world

November 8, 2011

Staging The Diary of Anne Frank definitely comes with a sense of purpose and of responsibility. As my school’s production stage manager, I was overwhelmingly nervous when the title was announced as this year’s fall drama. As part of the production team, it is my job to create the ambiance of a show and to set its tone.

It is nearly impossible to perform such an infamous story (with such a horrific ending) without seeming melodramatic, tragic, and altogether depressing. As a team, we decided that our audience could not sit in a state of misery for an hour and a half.

The play’s director, Mr. Jacoby, told the cast on the first day of rehearsal: this is a sad show; we do not need to accentuate that even further. So on our first read-through the actors struggled, denying their theatrical tendencies, and worked to seem realistic and hopeful.

The truth is, though death and destruction are an underlying theme, the show is about people and characters. The audience watches these families merge as they live in a cramped annex for years, never feeling the sunlight or taking a step outside. This sense of discomfort led to our set.

In order to emphasize the isolation and discomfort of the annex, our production is in the round. For those of you who aren’t privy to theater lingo, this means that the stage is in the center with the audience surrounding it entirely.

Adding this dimension to the script brings the audience closer to understanding the annex and, in turn, the characters themselves. By keeping the cast isolated and stuck on the enclosed stage, their confinement is highlighted.

Our goal was to create a sense of community among the audience members, by seating them on long benches instead of standard theater chairs. Additionally, we hoped to perform the play without intermission, for Anne never had a respite from her imprisonment in the annex.

By working on this show so exhaustively, I’ve started to question some of my own beliefs.

A specific dialogue always stands out to me. Peter, Anne’s love interest, says that once he’s freed he will be sure that no one knows that he is Jewish. Anne, shocked, claims that she would never turn her back on her religion. This short vignette spawns two questions: Would I, like Peter, abandon my religious beliefs in the face of adversity? Does religion form my identity?

I’m unsure how to answer these questions. As a teenager, I cannot begin to define my identity. I do not know yet who I am or who I will be.

I am sure of some things, and completely uncertain of others.

I cannot yet discern religion’s importance in my life. I am sure, though, that if religion were as essential to me as it was to Anne, I would not desert it.

If my fundamental qualities were not of the utmost importance to me, then what would be the point? I am willing to fight for what I believe in and to fight for my right to an identity.

The Diary of Anne Frank is a play of hope. Not in the lives of these lost souls, for we all know how the tragedy concludes, but hope in the eyes of the characters.

The play’s final few scenes occur just after the Allied invasion of Europe, when salvation is so close that the characters and the audience can taste it.

By analyzing and working on this poignant script, I’ve learned to look at such a heartbreaking story and to find the good in it.

Though her life was cut short by a heinous, villainous, unforgivable chain of crimes, Anne Frank led a joyous life in her annex and wrote about it expressively in a diary that the world shares.

Her words live on as a constant reminder of the Holocaust and of her iridescent spirit. I am overjoyed to be working on this show and to help bring audience members into Anne’s world.

Rachel DeChiara, 17, attends Newark Academy and is a member of Nu’s teen board.