Enter Stage Right

Illustration by Jillian Tamaki.

Day 5

Friday — a two-show day. Started it by doing a lot of breathing this morning, and since then I feel as though I’m moving in slow motion — which I think is a good thing, because usually my motor is running pretty fast. A voice coach took one look at me and said, “We need to settle you down” — and she was right. One can’t help but be energized this week, but it’s all in how you deal with it.

The theatre — all three theatres, for that matter — are in adrenaline overdrive, and the spirit of that is contagious. Not only does our own adrenaline kick in, but because as artists we are so open, we take on the energy of everyone and everything around us. And you can’t ignore how you feel; you have to find a way of working within it, of breathing down the centre of it. And it sort of tricks you, because you don’t feel it until you slow down, or better yet, stop for a moment. So that’s what I did. I stopped, had a lie-down with my legs up on a chair and just listened to my breath for an hour. To non-actors this will sound ridiculous — but it’s key. And when a professional voice coach tells you to breathe, you listen — because they know best.

At the theatre before the As You Like It matinee, the girls gather in my dressing room to organize our opening-night surprise for the boys. All I can say is that it involves a lot of lipstick…

I have great fun doing the show today. Playing in a love story is so great. It makes you so happy all the time. Way better for your mental health than being in a tragedy every night.

For dinner, I decide to treat myself to a pizza at Pazzo Ristorante — the best pizza in town. When I arrive, I discover the whole world seems to have had the same idea. I run into several friends who just opened The Brothers Karamazov, a new adaptation by Jason Sherman at the Tom Patterson Theatre; they say it had been a good afternoon. A few understudies had been on due to illnesses in the cast, but all had run smoothly. My doggy bag in hand, I head back to the theatre for the evening performance of The Tempest.

At the fifteen-minute call I can feel myself crashing. The combination of a really long week and all that breathing this morning have resulted in the ol‘ gas tank being out of gas. My Goddess costume feels like it weighs a thousand pounds and I can taste my bed, I want it so badly. My walk home — a whole four blocks — seems endless, and as I drag myself up to my apartment, I vow that I’m going to have a nice long, restful sleep before the big day tomorrow. But not before I have just the tiniest piece of leftover pizza as a bedtime snack…