When the image of it leaves me, I must run mad!

Friday night I did Shakespeare for almost a hundred people at one of the best drama schools in the nation. I must begin with a feeble attempt at articulating how unintelligibly thankful I am for that, and to have worked with such an incredible team of artists.

Although, we have yet to have an official acting class this year, I feel like I have a semester's worth of knowledge under my belt, just from the past four weeks. I have been acquainted with the turbid ebb and flow of misery in the rehearsal process, seen the amount of effort and dexterity required to adequately research a play, and STARTED to understand what it means to work specifically, and how essential it is when communicating to an audience.

I could practically write a novella from all the lessons I've learned throughout the process, but for the sake of brevity, I'll confine them to what I learned during the actual runs.

First Night:

The first performance was such a wild ride. From the time the house opened I was grappling with all the manic energy coursing through my body and knew that it would be something I would have to fight and harness in order to maintain my technical proficiency. I tried to put my energy into the text and into listening to what my castmates were saying rather than becoming wildly gesticulative and floppy.

The most interesting thing about the first run,though, to me, was how we all reacted when things went wrong. There were jokes that didn't always land, all kinds of prop and wardrobe malfunctions, and I knew it was because we were all teeming with that wild energy. There were also times though, when the audience laughed uproariously when we would never have expected them to, and learning the pace at which you have to move in order to allow the audience to laugh and enjoy themselves but not lose the momentum of the show was very valuable.

I also learned quite a bit about your duty as a cast member when you're not on stage. Rather than disappearing into the crossover or sittin down and checking out, I saw all my castmates waiting hungrily offstage for their next entrance, listening diligently, and sending out the most supportive energy we could muster. I remember Ross had an exit at one point after he'd had some trouble with an umbrella, and you could tell he was frustrated. He passed John and me, and we knew in our next scene we had to crank up the tempo and sharpness and pick our brother up. And when I had my drunk scene, I walked off feeling a bit frustrated because I felt like I had made a choice that was a bit gratuitous and not completely honest, but as I passed, I think it was Chelsea, I knew she was going to have me in our next scene. There was a great sense of ensemble backstage, and we would all celebrate each others' wins and offer support when things didn't go ideally. This was one of the things I !
am most proud of.

I also finally understood what it's like to perform an entire play and the STAMINA it requires to do it. I literally felt myself running out of gas towards the end of the play, but finding how you have to dig deep and keep giving the audience and your castmates what they deserve was a very enlightening lesson.

At the end of the first show, I realized, as many times as I'd heard it, THE SHOW MUST GO ON. Regardless of how I was feeling about my performance at a given moment or any extraneous circumstances, the story keeps going, and you can't stop telling it. You have to make sure the audience is getting the information they need at all times. Overall, the first show was a lesson in discipline, focus, tenacity, and selflessness; and one that I'll not soon forget.

Toby