I watched the Grammys and so did my son Jon. We did not watch them together so we had lots to talk about later that week. I enjoyed the clothes, the jokes and some of the music. Even though he loves the old music including Broadway that I have shared with him all of his life, Jon is more into the music of today than I am! We talked for awhile about Daft Punk, a duo who decided to take on the persona of robots and always wears helmets whenever they appear anywhere. It is odd to say the least, but Jon pointed out that day in and day out they could go about their lives without being hounded by fans and paparazzi. I decided that was probably a good thing after all. ( I saw pictures of them from pre-fame days and they are pretty cute!)
Now I know I will never be a star of any magnitude. I am lucky to get small, fun parts in community theatre. My one foray into professional theatre was a good experience but did not go any further than the call back stage, so I doubt I will ever be followed by paparazzi!! I take that back, someday I might be followed as the mom of a celebrity or the wife of a famous artist, but for my efforts I see no possibility! And I am ok with that. I remember my dad would make fun of me when I was a kid. Whenever I had the chance to do a show he would sneeringly say, “What? You think you are going to be a star?” And being a star was never my goal- performing was. Even when I finally told him I was going back to college he stood in my house- me, an adult now with my own family and my own house- and shook his head as he said, “Still think you are going to be a star, huh?” before he changed the subject back to him. (I nearly threw him out, but I didn’t. Actually someday I kind of want to throw someone out of my house, it seems so dramatic, but that was not the day!)
Anyway, all of this to say I will never be and I never really want to be a star. I just love the work and the process so I will continue to plug along. After our last performance in Columbiana last week, there was a reception for the cast. After gathering costumes and loading them in my car to keep and transport to our next venue, I headed down the street to the reception. When I walked in the lady by the door said nothing to me. I walked around, took a bottle of water and then looked at the art hanging in the space. I spoke to a few people and eventually ended up at a table with the director, her husband and a few cast mates. While walking around and later as I sat there, I heard the woman by the door stop people in the cast and ask them to sign a poster she had. She had not asked me. And I realized she did not know I was in the show!
For my friends and family who came they knew me well enough to look past the gray wig, the wrinkles drawn on my face and the extra pounds I tried to pack on with layers of slips, camisoles, tshirts, etc under my costumes. However, my own step mother in law, who arrived to the play at intermission told Tim after the play that I must have been in the first half because she never saw me! He tried to explain to her who I was, but she never really figured it out! So why should I expect a total stranger who was now seeing me in form fitting jeans, regular make up and brown hair to know who I was!
Long after graduation I received a letter from my father. He had been to dinner at our house a few months after graduation and he had upset me again by not mentioning anything about my accomplishment all evening. When I brought it up he changed the subject so I furiously served them dinner and then tried to get past it. A few days later I received the letter. He told me he was proud of me for graduating, blah, blah, blah. By that time I was so over him and whatever he had to say on the subject. But one paragraph was different, it stuck with me and came across as more sincere. In the paragraph he spoke about the first play he had come to school to see me in. It was a Greek tragedy, The Bacchae and I was way out of my comfort zone! I had not invited anyone I knew because I thought it would confuse them and make them worry about me! In it I had wild hair including some dreadlocks, I wore smeared Goth makeup, was barefoot, and I was dressed in ripped fishnets, a shredded dress that showed more skin and undergarments than it covered and was splattered with blood. Oh, and I carried a stick with a head on it for most of the play. Although the first time I put on the costume and saw the VERY realistic head I was kind of nauseous and doubted whether I could actually do the role, I ended up loving the experience, one of the best I ever had on stage!
In my father’s letter he mentioned that play specifically and how when I came on stage he was shocked to see someone else playing the role I was supposed to be playing according to the program. I did not know he was coming that night, I had not invited him so he thought maybe I was ill or had been replaced for another reason and since he was there with no notice I had not known to tell him I was not there. He checked the program again and then looked at the person on stage again. He was still convinced it was not me. He did not think it looked like me, it did not talk like me and it did not walk like me. After the show he went home still not sure if it was me or not. Since there were “dead” people on stage we did not do a curtain call of any kind, it seemed rather distasteful to do so! So he left without seeing if it indeed was me. Later on we talked about it, so he knew it was me. In the letter he told me that he realized then that I indeed could act, that becoming someone totally different, in your look, your voice and your carriage, your whole being, was true acting. It was probably the only sincere compliment my father has ever given me on any subject!!
So here I was again last week, not being recognized by the strangers in the audience. I walked by the poster on my way out and signed it even though no one ever asked me to do so!! And I wondered if I liked hearing others being praised for their work while being ignored. I wondered if my performance was just that awful or if they indeed did not know who I was! So I pondered whether I was ok with just doing the work or if indeed I would enjoy being “a star’! And I wondered if Daft Punk wished they had never started the helmet business or if they were content to cash their checks and remain anonymous!
In Welcome to Mitford the character of Father Tim says that fame can never be a bedfellow to tranquility. I will never have fame, but I guess there is a part of any performer who craves that praise and acceptance from their audience. Constant auditioning (and rejection) tears you down, but the applause make up for it. I plan to continue taking small parts that involve becoming someone else. It is what I enjoy. And contrary to what my father thought, I enjoy the work, the process, being a different person. I’ll leave the star stuff to someone else!
