Last month, I participated in ISU's summer musical production of The King & I. It was directed by Diana Livingston Friedley, with musical direction by Geoff Friedley, sets by Jason Woodland, and costumes by Tiffany Ulrich Johnson. The show was well received by the public and I'm still being stopped on the street or in the market by people who recognize me and tell me they enjoyed the show.
Rather arrogantly, I expected that this would be just another gig, just another show, taken on at the behest of a friend. I was gravely mistaken. Before my memory completely fails me, I am going to set down some things I learned, things which relate directly or indirectly to this blog.
Most relevant to All One Peace, it was brought home to me in a very powerful way that in addition to teaching, the stage is where I am alive. It is where my soul lives, is energized, thrives. Performing in a show quickens my blood and my spirit in a way that nothing else does. It is an essential part of my being, and I hadn't fully realized until last month just how essential it is. Bridget Close, a dear friend and brilliant performer, once told me that I need to be on stage. At the time, I inwardly dismissed her words, thinking that although she was sincere, she said it because she needed people to be in a show she was doing. Now I know she was trying to get me to see that to truly be living, I need to be performing. Bridget, I get it now, and I'm sorry I ever doubted your motives.
During the run of the show, I also learned how to overcome the hang-up I had about being aware of people I know in the audience. I have Jessica Rahill, who totally inhabited the role of Anna and made it her own, to thank. What it boils down to is a question of ego. The first two performances went well enough, though on Saturday, I didn't feel as good because I was having trouble not performing for those I knew in the audience. The following Monday, I became aware of how intensely Jessica was trying to engage my eyes while we were on stage. It struck me like lightning that I had been performing at the audience instead of engaging in the scene with her. I was being a very selfish scene partner, acting like an egotistical amateur. I started focusing my energy on her, engaging with her eyes at every opportunity, drawing my inflection and movement more from the King's reaction to Anna than from any awareness of the audience or my perception of their reaction to me. It was a sobering lesson but a joyful one, for from that moment on, I was no longer worried about who was in the audience watching me. I didn't care what they thought of me. All that mattered was Anna and being in the moment with her or any of the other characters with whom I interacted. Of course, I gauged audience laughter and applause so they wouldn't miss any part of the story, but now it was about the story telling and not their reaction. Jessica, I'm sorry it took me so long to get over myself, but thank you so much for helping me do it. And thank you for the way you did it. (Shall I tell you what I think of you, indeed!) Your quiet, steady, determined example of how an actor should be taught me far more than any words of yours could have and is something I will learn from for the rest of my life.
Usually during a production, the rest of my life goes in the crapper. Because of the energy I'm putting into rehearsals, etc., I let other things in my life go, putting them on hold until the show is over regardless of the consequences. This is a big reason why I had stopped performing as much as possible. I've been trying to get my life together. As part of realizing how integral performing is to the health of my soul, I am also realizing that an important challenge in my life is to learn how to balance performing with everything else that needs to be done. I need to learn how to keep all the balls in the air while walking the tightrope or riding the unicycle. Understanding that allows me to open up other options, and perhaps swallow my pride and accept help in ways I've been unwilling to in the past.
In addition to the other public apologies and expressions of gratitude, I'd like to add thanks to Diana Livingston Friedley for her strong encouragement to audition for the show. She is all about providing opportunities for people to perform, working tirelessly to overcome obstacles and make things happen. Without her, there would no longer be an ISU summer musical, which provides opportunities for people of all ages in the community to perform without asking that those participants pay for the privilege. She is an amazing woman and I am humbled, grateful, and continually awestruck at the blessing it is to call her my friend and that she has chosen this community as the place to dwell.
I am also thankful for Geoff Friedley and all the valuable help and advice he gives so freely. His music direction was quite simply expert and perfectly fit our unique circumstances. His presence here is equally a blessing.
There are so many other people who deserve individual thanks, but instead of making this post much longer than I had intended, I will thank them privately and allow it suffice here to say that I am grateful for everyone involved with the show. What an astounding experience it was to work with so many talented people who gave so unstintingly of themselves. I shall be forever grateful.
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