"This year's jest like any other," says Carousel's Nettie Fowler. Well not quite, but let's start with this year. And this year the choice was Carousel which TIME magazine voted Musical of the Century. As they say, "Great minds think alike."

But, of course, each show is different: the text, the music, the setting, composition of chorus, dancers and principals. This year there were many new young faces, including our "Snowdrops," two alternating groups of talented youngsters aged 9 to 16. More work for the directors, new young blood for the theater.

Yardena Alkan's beautiful set took us to Maine after two decades of touring from Titipu to Venice, from the Tower of London to Anatevka. It has always been an unforgettable trip.

Because of the set, this year was also the Year of the Scene Change. This major preoccupation stayed with us until dress rehearsal, but on opening night and thereafter everything went smoothly, of course. Audiences would never guess, and so the shouldn't, how many hours of painstaking rehearsals were behind the seemingly effortless magic as we were transported from Carnival to Park to Seaside Inn to Docks and to Up There.

Up There is the scene after Billy dies when he meets the Starkeeper, accompanied by the Heavenly Friend. It would have been enough if Gail Greene had just had to go up the ladder, dust the stars and say her lines. But that would have been far too pedestrian for director Rosa Howden! No indeed, Rosa decided that our Starkeeper had to be in full regalia, complete with Britich accent, as Gloriana, or Queen Elizabeth I.

In addition to her exciting and infectious creativity, Rosa exacted discipline. She told the whole company, all the time, just what was taking place as we progressed through the play. We knuckled down and paid attention. Very little time wated.

Last year in Pajama Game, Paul Hare played Charlie, the shlumpy janitor in overalls. This year he was the Heavenly Friend, resplendent in white suit and ruffled cuffs. Explaining his rise in status, Paul says "Last year I had to wake up Stephen (who played Sid then, and Billy now) and he was only sleeping. This year I had to wake him from the dead!"

Is one year like any other with LOGON? In some ways, yes. This company gets together almost the whole year round. Based in Beersheva, but

attracting thespians from the whole of the south, LOGON is celebrating its 20th season.

We usually begin in late August, after a summer of decision making, show selection and interviews to hire the professional staff. Our six-month run up to show time may seem like a long process but the time just flies by. We build our own sets, sew our own costumes and even find time for the singing, dancing and acting as well.

The company was formed on democratic principles, which means company members have a say in the selection of the show. We hold an evening of presentations, to which the entire membership is invited, and where anyone can make a presentation of the show they would like to perform. After that the Board considers each presentation and suggests a short list of three shows, which is then put to a vote.

Sometimes it doesn't work out as planned, as was the case this year, where we found that our first two choices were not available and the third choice was impractical. So we put a lot of good minds together and came up with Carousel.

You who come to see the shows don't think of the battle for theater occupancy which gets more and more difficult

every year. Space is at a premium, especially in the central and Jerusalem areas. One has to fix venues for the coming March at least nine months ahead. LOGON took to the road in March for a month, which proved to be a logistical nightmare, because the truck couldn't hold all the scenery, lighting and sound equipment which were two or three times the original estimate. A second, larger truck had to be found and a place for storage sought. The psychiatric hospital needed their hall for a series of lectures, and, in any case, there had been several break-ins. Storage prices for one month were ridiculous. Maybe a container could have been used which would eliminate the need to lad and unload between shows. The hire was reasonable but the transport too expensive, and in any case was there space to unload it in the theaters' loading docks?

Chairman Bob Gilmour finally got his company to agree to store it in their chemical warehouse for free. He and septuagenarian Heavenly Friend unloaded the stuff with the driver and hired hands at the dead of night. Beena, our Stage Manager, supervised the reloading in a slightly more efficient manner at the crack of dawn - Did we really need those Rocks?