Cast member Kiarra Bautista pulls back the curtain on LPC Theater’s 2025 summer production
The constant questions echoed in the halls of the Barbara Mertes Center.
“Who are you auditioning for?”
“What is your audition song?”
The tension was palpable. In the voices cracking during last-minute warm-ups. In the widened eyes of aspiring thespians scanning the competition for a role in LPC’s summer production of “The Wizard of Oz,” which performed four shows (plus an understudy performance) this July in the school’s amphitheater.
Auditions at Las Positas run on a tight schedule. Five-minute blocks that run from the start of sunset to night. All coming in with their music sheets and a song to sing.
“Wizard of Oz” auditions happened on Friday, Feb 28, in a room behind the Black Box Theater — a well-lit music room with a Steinway grand piano, a red Yamaha drum set on a platform in front of draped blue velvet curtains. Auditioners stood about eight feet from two casting directors seated at a table. Titian Lish, head of the Theater Arts Department and coordinator of the Actors Conservatory, stood in the corner of the room, greeting everyone with a kind smile while recording each auditioner’s performance. At the table sat Vinh Nguyen, guest prodirector and choreographer for this rendition of the classic. To his right was another guest professional, Jon Gallo, the music director of the show.
“It was nerve-wrecking,” said Sharon Thompson, a rising freshman in her first LPC production. “Titian greeted me when I walked in, and she was really sweet. That helped a little. But it was still a bit terrifying. They’re just staring at you. And you know these are hardcore theater eyes on you, so they’re going to see and hear every little thing.”
For my song, I turned to a personal favorite, one reflecting the uncertainty of this unfamiliar place, as well as to showcase my vibrato. “Home” from the musical “Beauty and the Beast.”
Not long afterwards, I was invited to callbacks, which are a second round of auditions for selected candidates. Each person who received a callback was given the role they were in the running for and materials to prepare for the next level — a minute-long choreography to learn for the dance audition, held three days after auditions.
As I walked in, I could hear my heart louder than my thoughts. Confused and lost, I followed the path of a long hallway filled with posters of past productions, like a museum, or the foyer of a local playhouse. Eventually, the absence of signs and lack of a clue stopped my momentum. I stood hunched over, no doubt looking lost, because a group of people came to my rescue.
“Are you here for callbacks?” I was asked. I nodded in agreement.
“That’s awesome!” One of them said, “We are, too. We were just going to warm up in the rehearsal room. You should come join us. I’ll wait for you to put your stuff down.”
Her name was Kinsey Ferrera. She is a sophomore Pleasanton native with the alto voice of a graceful songbird.
After I set down my belongings in the green room, which was more like a break room, we ventured down the hall to a rehearsal room with a high ceiling and a wall of mirrors on one side, and red curtains covering a floor-to-ceiling window on the other side. It was largely empty yet highly sophisticated, with glossy wooden floors and a Steinway piano.
At 6 p.m. sharp, Nguyen ignited the dance callback. We scattered across the mirrored studio, bodies moving in sync, minds racing. He counted to the rhythm of the music with “5-6-7-8.” After 20 minutes of dancing — amplified by nerves after he split the dancers into groups of five — it was hard to breathe.
The end of the dance callback prompted a sigh of relief. The hopefuls retreated to the lobby in search of air and the space to process. It wasn’t over.
One by one, groups disappeared into the rehearsal space for their singing and acting callbacks. Some were done in half an hour. Others waited for hours. Time dragged slowly, tauntingly.
Everything was fast and intense. By the end, a feeling of gratitude prevailed. Before fates were even decided, it felt like an accomplishment. We bonded through surviving a three-hour roller coaster, thrilling and exhausting.
It was easy to leave auditions with a sense of peace. The experience was rewarding enough. I was already pondering my next challenge and contemplating summer plans. But the email came fairly quickly, just a week after callbacks.
A casting offer. I made the ensemble. The journey still wasn’t over.
YELLOW-BRICK ROAD: That’s me, Kiarra Bautista, on the far right. As part of the ensemble for the Wizard of Oz, I made my LPC theater debut and so many new friends. (Photo by Aaron Burg/ LPC Theater)
The Rehearsals
Perhaps the hardest day of preparation was July 15. It was our second time running through the entire show, but the first time with costumes. Opening night was three days away. And it was freezing this Tuesday night under the darkness of Livermore.
It was chaos.
The costume changes were so quick that the first run through was a mess. The Wicked Witch, played by Claire Willard, was like a running back behind the set, as she weaved around bodies to get to the other side. Tibia, the Wicked Witch’s butler, played by Mason Neto, couldn’t find his duster. And half the cast was not even in costume when someone shouted “hold” and halted rehearsal.
That was our safety word: hold. Any actor who feels impending harm, whether from an injury or from an equipment malfunction, can yell “Hold!” and everything stops. After the first shout of “hold,” several followed, so everyone knew to stop.
Nguyen, the director, wondered what the purpose was behind the hold. The safety word is designed for actual danger, which he made clear. Again. This one wasn’t about harm. We were just stressing out. That’s how difficult that first run through was — we all needed a moment to breathe.
It provided a humorous moment as Renn Ma, one of the ensemble’s highlights, emerged wearing a corset and no shirt. In the rush, he mixed up the order of things. We needed the laugh.
It was a microcosm of the entire time. Difficult. Fun. Familial. Hilarious.
Rehearsals began on June 3. Opening night was July 18. That’s a little over six weeks of preparation. Four-hour practices, three days a week, most weeks. Stage manager Rachelle Stone sent out daily schedules to cast members so that we’d know what was expected the next day. We had to arrive prepared.
The intensity turned up for Tech Week. That’s when it all came together and the world of Oz was brought to life. The rehearsals switched to evenings, ran about four to five hours in the days leading up to the show. Before then, scenes felt separate, like puzzle pieces still being moved around. But when the costumes, lights and props were in place, everything clicked. The chaos was real, rehearsing until we got every detail right. Even in the stress, there was something exciting about watching the stage transform into different sets.
STARS OF OZ: From left to right, Kiana Porr as Dorothy, Mason Garner as Tin Man, Scout Del Real as Cowardly Lion, Xander Struckman as Scarecrow, and Ryan Morris as The Wizard. (Photo by Jackie Garcia/ LPC Theater)
Rehearsals are a mixture of laughter, sweat and feedback. The community element makes it so much easier to be vulnerable and go all out. That’s what I learned in my first production. How comfortable people feel matters, so the tone setters are vital. One day, we each shared with each other what Oz meant to us. Some people said Oz felt like home, like finding family in unfamiliar places. It was a touching moment for the cast. It made us feel closer.
Cecily Hansson was a significant part of the camaraderie. She played the Good Witch, or Ms. Sorceress, in our production. Her strong and beautiful voice struck a chord in the heart. But most importantly, Hansson was like the mom of the cast. She made the stage a safe space with her warmth. She was a natural, gliding across the stage as Glinda, as if it were an extension of who she already is — a comforter and protector. She was also the dance captain, helping everyone who needed it with routines.
Xander Struckman, who played the Scarecrow, was also key to the vibes. He brought so much personality to the stage. He was basically a walking cartoon, but in the best way.
“Like, I can’t differentiate Shaggy from Scooby Doo and Scarecrow because they’re so similar,” he said during one rehearsal.
His cartoon character personality made watching him perform as the Scarecrow captivating as he brought a character made of straw to life. He moved with an animated charm and impressive nimbleness that kept everyone laughing, even through the exhaustion of late-night run-throughs. He just knows how to have fun.
Fun is essential because learning a show is daunting.
The dancing was exhausting, and the pressure to learn the choreo quickly added to the degree of difficulty. Eventually, we’d get the hang of it. That was the fulfilling part, pushing through and nailing it.
In between dancing and singing, we bonded over silly jokes and references to other musicals.
Then came staging, which was putting it on the stage and really acting it out. That’s when Oz became real. We were a frenzied cyclone at first. (To be clear, not the cyclone we represented that lifted Dorothy’s house to Oz. We got that down pretty quickly, I must say.) It would’ve been a comedy if we had a crowd to watch us rehearse at night. Props were missing. Actors were running. Shoes were breaking. Costumes fell apart. Thatat was the real drama.
As always, we’d find our problem spots, get instructions from our leaders and eventually smooth them out. We lived by the director’s notes, which is theater speak for critiques. They came in one-on-one conversations, in group huddles and sometimes via email. Nguyen is a kind and gentle director, and he knew exactly what he wanted. Our director always believed in us and motivated us to be better.
Rehearsals were usually broken up by numbers, which is theater speak for songs. The hardest, without a doubt, were “Munchkinland” and “Jitterbug.” We worked on the former practically every day. The choreography was difficult, and the number included a lift — Dorothy being carried in celebration — and celebration props.
“Jitterbug” was simply complex. A fast-paced song with complicated dance moves. When we first rehearsed with the band during Tech Week, it got even faster.
As a member of the ensemble, I felt the brunt of it. I danced in both numbers. I’d get home very tired from dancing my little heart out. It took us a while to get in sync. But we did. We always did.
Through the entire chaotic, jam-packed schedule of rehearsals, Tech Week and all the cold nights we endured outside, we became a cast. We built something together. Not just a show, but the world of Oz at Las Positas.
It was time to share it.
OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD: This scene was a peak moment for our stage designers, which produced a spectacular set that turned the outdoor ampitheater into the Emerald City. (Photo by Aaron Burg/ LPC Theater)
The Performances
It’s easy to forget Kiana Porr is only 18 years old when watching her on stage.
In her fourth production at Las Positas, Porr played Dorothy with so much love. Her personality shines in the starring role. Her energy fills the stage. Her experience from past productions is evident. There’s something magnetic about the way she carries herself. She turned up the whimsy and innocence and brought the world of Oz to life. From the beginning, it was clear, “She is Dorothy.” She belonged in the ruby slippers. Or, in this production, the sparkly red Vans.
She delivered from the opening number. Her rendition of “Over the Rainbow” set the tone for every performance. And the first one might have been the best. She skipped onto the stage and stole the hearts of the audience, then hit all the notes to transport everyone to Oz. That first show, we all stopped and listened to Dorothy as she nailed the first number. It was inspirational.
We could only stop and listen to her on the first night. Every other night was just too cold to stop.
Yes. It was freezing. Even with our adrenaline, we still felt the cold. The odd part is that we began in the heat. The original rehearsals were during the day. June and July in Livermore can be brutal. We started in the baking Livermore sun and ended covered in its chill.
Our bond got us through it, though. We had so much fun together. The elements were no match for our collective will.
Some of my favorite moments happened in what we call motivational checks. One person would take the center and lead us in our secret chant ritual to get us hyped. We just looked at each other face-to-face. Just us. Not as characters. But as family.
It worked every time.
MID-SUMMER NIGHTS: Director and choreographer Vin Nguyen believed in us and pushed us. After six weeks of rehearsals, and two weekends of productions, we walked away feeling accomplished and bonded. (Photo by Aaron Burg/ LPC Theater)
Those moments, some of them small, are what made this performance of the “The Wizard of Oz” special.
How we all laughed backstage when Ryan Morris’ voice went from the mighty and terrible Wizard to the nasally fraud, and when the Wicked Witch turned into a Muppet, which was hilarious every time. How we felt the sting when the Tin Man quietly injured himself doing the splits on the second night, and the pride as he powered through the pain and delivered. How Mikayla Cabrera stunningly elevated Gloria, the debutante daughter of Lord Growlie (Spencer Canton), bringing Instagram influencer vibes to the classic.
The Tin Man’s role falls flat in many versions. But Mason Garner brought a different vibe to the character. His warmth and humor somehow made the Tin Man not feel robotic and stiff. His singing voice is beautiful, clear, controlled, full of life. It’s not just “good singing,” it’s storytelling. Garner found the emotional truth behind the character and revealed the heart of the Tin Man, even though the whole point is that the Tin Man doesn’t have one.
We did the Municipal Theatre of St. Louis version of Frank Gabrielson’s stage adaptation of L. Frank Baum’s classic book. But this “The Wizard of Oz” was ours.
Perhaps no one embodied the emotion of our experience like Scout Del Real, who played the Cowardly Lion. His character was the most emotionally resonant in the show. Del Real’s portrayal was personal and vivid. The lion’s softness and hesitation slowly transformed into strength and resilience. By the time the group reached Emerald City, you’re rooting hardest for the Lion. Del Real made each stage palpable through his performance. He embodied our journey as a cast.
We began timidly, unsure of ourselves, even a bit of a mess in some ways.
But by the time we reached Emerald City, actually and metaphorically, we had grown significantly. We were whole.
The whole experience feels surreal. It’s hard to believe how quickly it all went by. That’s why closing night was bittersweet. I’ve done shows before where I cried from the sadness of it ending. This time felt different. I didn’t want to spend a second in tears. I wanted to be in the moment and celebrate everything we’d created together.
It didn’t even feel real that it was over. At least not until the next day.
Just 12 hours after our last performance, we were back on the stage at 10 a.m. Together. Tearing down the set. Packing away props and costumes. Saying our goodbyes. That’s when it hit.
When our director said he had to leave, I impulsively ran to him. And cried in his arms.
***
TOP PHOTO: Kiana Porr as Dorothy, left, and Claire Willard as the Wicked Witch were key to the success of the play on the stage and the bonding of the cast off it. (Photo by Jackie Garcia/ LPC Theater)
Kiarra Bautista is a contributing writer for The Express. Follow her on Instagram @KiarraFaithh. Angelina An, Editor-in-Chief of The Express, contributed to this article.
