Posted on: Friday, May 13, 2005

HAWAIIAN STYLE

By Wade Kilohana Shirkey
Advertiser Staff Writer

Like a squirrel storing nuts for the winter, Hawai'i Theatre manager Burton White scurries around the historic showplace, hiding memorabilia for later generations to find — and marvel at.

The trouble is, sometimes he forgets where he hides his little time capsules.

One cache somewhere in the bowels of the 83-year-old theater contains 1996 tickets for reopening night, invitations and a picture of the newly restored downtown landmark.

He's not the only one leaving finds for the future. Actors, backstage hands, even restoration construction workers leave scribblings in nooks and crannies, he said, and "there are all kinds of messages throughout this place — theater graffiti."

Where does he hide things?

"It's those 'Phantom of the Opera' areas — where no one goes," he said.

As general manager, said White, "I've been everywhere in the theater. I had to know what was in that vertical shaft, behind that small wall, in the crawl space over the original coral foundation."

He predicts that the one who finds his capsules will be the "next need-to-know person." Perhaps when the guard changes, or with another restoration.

"I'm sorta the archivist here," White said. Old dusty archives fill his home and office with the likes of old theater seats, light fixtures and production posters.

"I've breathed theater since taking the stage as a tap dancer at age 8," he said.

At age 49, he cherishes a 1989 "Dream Girls" production poster, the last public show before the theater was closed for restoration, or the original art deco front doors.

Old glass projection slides proclaim "NO SMOKING by Order of Fire Marshal." One had tsunami evacuation instructions. And, of course, "THIS CONCLUDES OUR EVENING PERFORMANCE. GOODNIGHT!"

His prized possession is the original ghost light, the eerie lamp that softly illuminated the stage once the theater lights went dark.

White is willing to offer a clue on one time capsule's location: "It used to be the coolest place the Phantom (of the Opera) would go."

White refers to his beloved theater as a female — and animate.

"One, it's (my) home. And, it's like your mother — she supports you, loves you," he said. "It has personality. What goes on inside is its blood, its breath."

When he's first to arrive in the morning, he greets her with Hawaiian chant.

After a particularly rough production, "I rub the wall and say I'm sorry," and after a successful run, he offers her thanks.

"She doesn't talk back in the traditional sense," White said, "but she does speak to you."

So White treasures, preserves — and hides away for posterity — those things that are important to her.

"We don't own all this," he said. "We're just stewards. It all belongs to her."