I was a guest on a podcast earlier this week and one of the questions I was asked got me to thinking. The host asked me when I caught the “acting bug”. I told him I didn’t specifically have that moment and on retrospect, that is true. There was no one movie, one specific play that made me think, “I want to be up there!” or “I can do that!”‘
Theatre has always been in my life and although I have had times when I wasn’t actively participating, I see live theatre almost every week and always have.
On the podcast, I told the host that I was taken to the theatre by my dad at the age of 5. Not to see a show, but to watch rehearsals for a show he was in. My dad, like many people, did a little theatre in college and fancied himself an actor. When he moved to Birmingham, he sought out the theatre community. He did small parts in several shows for awhile.
My mom, who was left home with two small children, was happy to send the oldest one (me) to the theatre with my father. Instead of sitting quietly and watching, somehow I weaseled my way on stage and before it was all said and done, I had been cast in 4 shows in 3 years and ended up with a bigger part than my father had!
I learned to read not only words but music from the people at the theatre. I also learned the rules and superstitions of the theatre. The ladies that were always sitting out in the audience during rehearsal (some had small parts in the shows, others did not and I am not really sure why they were there!) also taught me to knit as I waited between scenes.
The old school directors of that time that I learned from, James Hatcher and Irving Stern, were very disciplined and strict. When they said jump, you asked how high. You said “thank you” when they fussed at you and “yes sir” when they made a demand.
Although there were almost no other kids in a lot of the shows I did, The Sound of Music was my introduction to working with other children. By that time, with all of my experience, I fell in as the leader although I played (and I was) the youngest child in the show.
At that point, my parents shut it all down. My mom wanted me home studying for school and my dad moved on to other hobbies. He would do shows occasionally, but I was never taken back to be on stage. We did, however, still attend plays religiously.
When I was in high school, I found my way back. This was the first time I had ever had a real theatre teacher. And man, did I luck out! Jim Rye was a theatre legend in Birmingham at the time. Having him as my high school drama teacher was something for which I can never be grateful enough.
As a child, the lessons I learned were picked up through my child brain. In an actual class with a real teacher, I learned way more. There was consistency though, because Mr. Rye was old school as well.
I can remember like yesterday, although it is going on 50 years ago, Mr. Rye yelling at students not to peek out the curtain before a skit. He would say, “Letting the audience see you before the show is amateur night in Dixie!” That was one of his favorite reprimands- “You are acting like it is amateur night in Dixie!” His other was to tell you that you were being “common.” To me, being common became the worse thing you could be!
The rules of not being seen before a show, not practicing the curtain call until the final dress rehearsal, getting out of costume and character before you go see your fans after the show, etc, are rules that get broken all of the time with new, creative directors and different artistic directors. It still sends a little shiver up my spine when I see any of these conventions ignored!
As with most educations, when I went back to college to study theatre at the ripe old age of 53 I realized just how much I didn’t know. After 48 years in the theatre I was shown just how much I had to learn when it came to being an actress. It also showed me what it was like to direct a show and although I had no intention of ever directing anything, I took all of the directing classes available and even did an internship.
Again, I learned more rules on how to respond to your stage manager, your director and your fellow cast mates. I learned that although I had seen “know it all” cast members tell other actors in the show what they should do or how they felt about their work, the worst thing you can do is to be in a show and direct your fellow actors. If you aren’t the director or stage manager, you have to keep your opinions to yourself or talk to your director about ideas. And those ideas should be for you and your character, not anyone else.
One of the great lessons of the theatre to me is to mind your own business. Chances are you aren’t perfect in your role, so why are you telling the other actors how to do theirs? If you think you are to the point of perfection, remember that you can’t see yourself, so why are you so sure everything you are doing is right? Making sure you are handling your own business and staying out of everyone else’s is a life lesson we can all use.
Learning how to conduct myself on stage and in the wings has definitely been a process for 57 years now. It is a part of me that cannot be separated from who I am. It has been layered into my being just like my manners and my abilities to read or write. Although I question my abilities, talents and calling in the theatre, I can never question the love I have for the process, the rules, the creativity and the superstitions that make the theatre work.
I know that many people think that rules stifle creativity, but I am a rule person. I need some guidance, some parameters. I need to know that I can count on some part of a process in order to feel confident and secure enough to be creative. And when I see the rules flaunted or ignored, I cringe inside. I get over it, but it shakes me up!
Every time I come to the end of a project, I feel sure it is my last one for many reasons. I am usually physically and emotionally exhausted. I have spent weeks feeling unsure about every facet of my being while I try to “act” like I have it somewhat together. I can not imagine doing this to myself ever again.
I also am sure that nothing I did was right and that I will be found out for the fraud that I am. It is best to quit while I am ahead, before anyone figures out I am an impostor!
Tonight is opening night of the latest project I am involved with. It has turned out well through no fault of my own. Like I told the podcast hosts earlier this week, I cast good people and then got out of their way. I take no credit for anything good that happens on that stage tonight, yet I feel totally responsible for anything bad that happens.
Last time I directed, I likened it to raising children. Now is when I have to let go, although also being the stage manager of this show keeps me a tiny bit in control. Who am I kidding, I was never in control. Just like with raising kids, you think you can keep a grip on things, but you really can’t. And that is OK.
Rules are meant to be broken ( it hurt just to type that!) and things will be what they will be- usually better than I could imagine.
So here’s to another opening, maybe my last (told you I would feel that way!) Here’s to all of the great teachers I have had, all of the great people I have met and worked with, all of the experiences we’ve shared. Here’s to laughter, purpose and lessons learned- on stage and off. Here’s to the theatre rules and the people who are long gone who drove them into me. Here’s to the past, the present and the future, all places where theatre lives on.
