The cast and staff of the Harvard Summer Theatre Group, formed this summer to bring student drama to the Summer School, has undergone difficulties peculiar to a small one-shot organization. Two of their members here relate some of the problems besetting their first play, Antigone.

The Harvard Summer Theatre Group was created by the simple method of gathering. Once those theatre people already in Cambridge came together, several Summer School students also interested in the theatre joined them, to bring new talent and ways of doing things that eventually brought the productions into being. The problems they met were the same that face theatre groups in the winter, as well as new worries presented by the particular situation of a summer in Cambridge. But the obstacles were overcome and the new group began production.

The first show was finally given in Christ Church auditorium, and the next was presented in a common room of the Harvard Union, in the round, an approach that has not been used lately in Cambridge. The experiment has proved successful and we hope that more plays in this form will be seen in the future.

Mounting a show in Christ Church brought its own difficulties. The auditorium closed at 5 p.m. while the group prepared for the opening. Most of the theatre people seemed to be used to working at night, through th early hours of the morning, and the Church's hours caused some distress. Many of those working on the show were involved during the day with school work and jobs, so the few hours left in the evening were hurried and hectic. One can imagine the embarrassment caused by the minister appearing quietly in the auditorium while the irritated stage crew wrestled with the cheapest equipment available. But the staff of Christ Church seemed to take it all in stride, despite the gouges that the lighting control board left scraping up the stairs after rolling through the streets of Harvard Square. One rector became so interested that he found himself helping the theatre goup in its work.

A technician from Yale, taking a summer course in music, lived up to his fame for facile improvisation. Every time that something went wrong, the cry of "Mc Goo, fix it" went up. And he did. He manufactured a stage plug out of a piece of wood and scraps of copper wire, and he managed to rewire half the Harvard Union in an afternoon.

The control board in Christ Church came to need four pairs of hands and one pair of feet to keep it happy, and volunteers appeared at the last moment every night. They also filled in at the backstage bridge game when the regular players were on stage. This game lasted through the entire run of Antigone, in a Sunday School room that was commandeered for the offstage area. The noble and stately queen of Thebes climbed through its window every performance with un-middle-aged skill. One spectator had a few uncomfortable moments when he saw the spotlights hung over the audience with almost invisible string, but he was reassured when he learned that the string was nylon and could hold five hundred fifty pounds.

The set was taken down with amazing efficiency, since the cast party in Belmont could not start until this job was finished. The entire set was torn down within an hour by a thirsty swarm that gathered at the scent of "Party-party." An orange trailer piled too high with wood and people careened off into the night, and the last remnants of the party were seen at Cronin's 24 hours later--hungry at last.

After the group recovered, plans for the next show were set. An energetic advertising campaign caused repeated comments of, "these are one hell of a lot of No Exit posters." They appeared almost everywhere; Elsie's managed to acquire four. The same sort of confusion appeared again, and No Exit was on its way.