I
am currently rehearsing an adult role (what??) in an adult play (what??). Despite being an adult, and being mostly surrounded by adults
in my daily life (now that tour is over, at least), this isn’t necessarily a
comfortable experience for me. It’s certainly not an unwanted experience--quite the contrary!--but it doesn’t
necessarily fit like a glove. It fits more like someone else’s glove. Someone a
lot bigger than me. And with a couple extra fingers.
When
I got cast I thought (after “Hooray!!!”), “I hope they don’t notice how young I
look...and how not-adult I act....” As if these things had not been apparent at
the audition. As if they are not apparent upon meeting me. Obviously, I was
looked at and listened to and chosen for (despite?) all of that, yes?
So
rehearsals began, and I proceeded to try on the idea of Adult. Adult Woman
would talk like this, right? Adult
Woman, she speaks like this, yes? She
smiles politely (not goofily) and knows how to put on make-up (not just
chapstick) and walks perfectly in heels, right?
Thank
goodness I still have the power to learn. For here is what I have learned in
adult rehearsal:
They
really do want me.
I
have fought with this idea before. I have looked at a character and thought,
“Wow, I am nothing like her/him,” so then I have proceeded to try to put them on. This, I’m telling you, I’m
telling you I’m telling you, this is actually not the way to “act.” You cannot
be a thing that you are not. I can never be a shovel. I can never be creme
brulee. I can only be something that is already within me.
This
woman I am playing right now--an adult, a dancer, a woman antsy in her own
life, capable of great selfishness & delusion & desire--I can only be
her because she is not actually foreign to me. I was hired to portray this lady
partly because I can. And finding my
way to her is actually just about finding HER in ME. You know how I know this?
Because I was holding back from any actual dancing until someone who knows his
stuff gave me dance moves...great, fun ones...and I then gave myself license to
wiggle and do stupid Tia-dances inbetween and was met with absolute delight. No
“Oh GOD, honey, stick to the choreo!” No “ummm...the character would never do that.” My silliness, my
letting-go, was just what was needed. She’s being filled in, now. THIS is how
you fill your character in. You bring *you.*
A
few days ago, I was able to experience the same thing during the day (turned on
its head) with “baby theatre” as I did at night for adults. We workshopped our
latest concept--a piece for 18-month-olds and under!--and any magic that
occurred came about in the moments when my fellow performer and I got out of
Adult Brain and gave ourselves license to just make stuff. To follow our youthful
impulses to PLAY. This impulse? Not so different from the one needed in adult
theatre. Maybe no different at all.
Everything
is a going-back-to.
Everything
is a stripping-down.
I
am best at my job when I just am. And that's when I make the prettiest things:
