I redid the look of my blog a couple months ago, then never blogged again. Now, I revisit this place and find myself not too impressed with the makeover, but blogging nonetheless.
Hi.
I never much understood theatre as a kid. Growing up, I had only been in two plays during my high school career. One, I was the role of a gypsy violin player in The Matchmaker. I had no lines, and all I did was prance around the stage acting like I was playing violin and flirting with the ladies (one of them happened to be my sister, which was uncomfortable). All I remember was the absolute awkwardness I felt in my entire body as I ran my bow over the imaginary strings, prancing around in front of ALL THOSE PEOPLE. I was absolutely caked in makeup, which I found very helpful for hiding all of my terrible acne (This was one aspect about theatre that I remember adoring). This was my freshman year. Fast forward to my Senior Year, and you'll find me playing the role of Frank Churchill from Jane Austen's Emma. I don't remember many of my lines now, but I do remember that I had a knack for saying them all extremely quickly when on stage. This has always been a problem of mine-- when the attention is on me, when it is my turn to speak and say something to move the story forward, the only thing I want is to get all that attention off as quickly as possible. I wouldn't care how artlessly it was done, or how "in character" I was in while saying it. The attention made me nervous and uncomfortable, and I wanted it off and onto somebody else.
And that silence in the audience!!! How deadly silent they all are when you start speaking. Something in me always expected the audience to be rolling in laughter every second of my stage presence, and if they weren't then I was probably doing something wrong. It's funny putting that sensation into words now. It sounds utterly preposterous. But that is how I felt, and sometimes do feel nowadays.
So you see, in that brief description, thus existed my experience of theatre in high school. My exposure, though under the guidance of very loving and motivated hands, was, in short, limited. Onto college, where I would probably study literature and something.
Well, that was the plan until I was invited to audition for Revusicals, a showcase where a class gets into pairs and picks a broadway musical, shortens it to thirty minutes, and directs it. A vast amount of people audition, usually theatre kids, who intimidated me to the umpth degree. I sang a song from Men's choir. It was about how Second Tenors suck, or something.
Second Tenors are not geeks
They're just first tenors with poor techniques
But should you love us any less
just because we crack when we try to sing an F?
We don't sing too high
And we don't sing too low
And we're not as elegant as the first tenors we know
We just want you to love us like the rest
of the Pips and Garfunkles who are second best.
Why on earth do I remember that? Anyway, I didn't realize how embarrassing that should have been for somebody who might've had a bit more self awareness. This was also my first run in with Tracey Moore, the head of the Music Theatre department. I like to compare her to a Jewish, female Dumbledore. Intimidatingly insightful. A really loving person, but is definitely not afraid to say whatever she needs to say to get you to do whatever she thinks is best for you to do.
Cast list went up the day after (I had checked early that morning and again in the afternoon, but it didn't go up till 4:00 pm). I was cast in a musical called Hair (No, I didn't know what Hair was back then). It was a chorus role. I adored that role. I adored that show. I loved the cast, and the songs we sang, and the story, and the message, and the music, and to a degree, myself. I somehow connected with myself during our rehearsals. We performed once, and I loved the feeling of telling this story to people, to hear them respond to it. The vain part in me loved hearing "good job" after the show (even though I know now they were just being nice).
At the same time, during the rehearsal process, I felt extremely uncomfortable. Music Theatre was new terrain. I was with a bunch of people I didn't know, and they all seemed so 'questionably immoral' (I remember thinking those exact words during rehearsal). I was confused about my Christianity and still had the unintentional echoes of Binimea's ethical system reverberating in my subconscious. These songs were about weed and drugs and happiness and peace. These people were talking about sex and drugs and alcohol and all I wanted to do was crawl into my room and play music in front of a camera, alone. I'm glad I didn't. I'm glad I stayed with it. Part of me had to stay with it, even though a lot of me didn't want to.
And that's sort of been the internal struggle this past year.
The next semester, I realized that "Music Theatre" is artless and obvious and cliche and I shouldn't waste my time with it. Better play music in my bedroom and be a recluse. Which is what I was. But for some reason I kept auditioning for things. Didn't get anything. Though I did get to play guitar for a show (got payed 50 bucks, too).
Then, summer break came along and I really realized that Music Theatre is stupid.
Then I came back and got even more involved. I auditioned for everything. I got cast, too.
Hucklebee and the Rhyming Mountain-- a children's story about overcoming obstacles and becoming all that you can be. I was Hucklebee.
All Singing All Dancing- I was a minor role in the Murdered Men Tango.
On The Town- This was another Revusical. I was Chip.
I also got cast in other minor scenes.
And I also started to help a friend of mine write some music for a play he was writing called Ordinary High.
Then Christmas break came along and I was really convinced that Music Theatre was stupid. I would go back to college and be a film major, or something.
Then I got an email saying that they wanted to do our play at Western Kentucky University for the spring semester.
Now I'm more involved than ever before.
And then I got cast as a lead role for a studio show called Women and Wallace. And we performed. And it was awesome.
Almost two years gone by, and the one art form that I kept telling myself I would never get involved in is the one art form that is consuming my life. And I don't mind. I'm enjoying it, actually.
All of today was spent writing for the musical. Music theatre writing has so many dynamics. It's treacherously complicated and overbearing. I find my efforts "cute." Nothing really major, just a kid who doesn't know much about theory saying he's going to write a musical. Adorable.
It will be performed May 4th. You should come see it.
I'll talk about it more later.
I'm not going to talk much about fate or destiny or anything like that. But I am going to say that I find it extremely peculiar that no matter how much of me wanted to get away from this art, there was still something in me that kept drawing me back. There is still, at this very moment, a large force in me saying that this is a complete waste of time. Music theatre isn't valid. Go be a rockstar, or something. Maybe there's a time for that somewhere in the future. I don't know. But another part of me really likes where I'm at. And I want to stay there and grow.
Goodnight.
