When I was seven years old, I made my theatrical debut as Thomas Jefferson in Bear Creek Elementary School’s version of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. It was heavy stuff; I wore a cotton ball wig and delivered my one line with all of the gravity fitting a venerable founding father: “We hold these truths to be self-evident…”
Of course, I had no idea what I was saying. But, my parents – and maybe even a few other parents – thought I was brilliant. I have the pictures to prove it.
Clearly, the public cannot get enough of me, as I have been called, once again, to try my hand at the craft. Required in not one, but two of my current courses, is a public performance, upon which my grades tentatively rest. Of course, by “public,” I mean a handful of classmates, and by “performance,” I mean squeaking out a few memorized lines, but the bile rises in my throat even as I think about it.
I do not consider myself a shy person but, like all “normal” people, I have a healthy fear of public speaking. On a scale of one to ten (one being an agoraphobe, ten being a circus clown), I am probably somewhere around a four. I have no problem speaking my mind, but performance – be it in a job interview or the recitation of poetry – makes my face feel funny and sweat run down my back.
So, good little nerd that I am, I have been doing my homework. Perhaps, if I can prepare myself enough, if I can really “get into” my roles, then the fear will go away. I have been reading about the fine “art” that is acting; I have been digging into my characters’ motivations. And, uncultured though I may be, I have even gone to the theater.
Last Saturday, I attended the Studio@620’s production of Hamlet: The Unforgettable Fire. Admittedly, my reason for attending had less to do with “preparation,” and more to do with the fact that there were extra credit points involved, but never has homework been less of a chore.
The Studio@620 is a “creative home for the visual and performing arts” with an eye for integrating the various disciplines of the artistic community. The Studio is a fantastic addition to the blossoming culture of downtown: They put on (largely) contemporary plays, host poetry readings, screen films and provide a space for public forums and events, among other things. Oh, and at many events, they serve a considerable selection of adult beverages and gnoshing items for a small donation…but I digress.
Hamlet: The Unforgettable Fire was directed by Bob Devin Jones, one of The Studio’s founders and something of a giant in the arts/theater community. However, set to the music of U2, with a modern set and costuming, this was not your typical Hamlet. Now, with my limited study of Shakespeare, and my nonexistent knowledge of theater, I’m not going to embarrass myself by trying to critique the play. I usually, and quite stupidly, figure that a play is good if the price of the ticket forces me to break out a credit card. What really interested me, however, was how these performers do what they do.
If you think Shakespeare is tough to read, try “being” Hamlet for a group of 50 or more strangers. Trying to remember those endless lines must be daunting enough, but, unlike my third grade performance, these actors have got to actually know what they mean. My Modern Drama professor, Dr. Jon Conlon (Polonius in 620’s production), says that some Shakespearean performers do not have a clue what they’re saying. And, while this is sad, it was clearly not the case Saturday night. These actors were so compelling that even I sometimes knew what was going on.
Once, when I asked my grandmother why she loved tennis so much, she explained that she didn’t love it until she tried to play it. A few weeks of lessons soon taught my grandmother what the professionals already know: Tennis is hard
And so, actors, as I try to calm my pre-performance jitters in the coming weeks, I take my hat off to you. Acting is hard. Sucking up the stage fright, remembering your lines and then…making us believe? It’s beyond me. It might just be the toughest job in the world.
First published in The Gabber Newspaper, 11/15/2007
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