Last weekend, I performed my final musical on Caswell stage. It was beautiful and devastating. I haven’t fully processed the fact that I will be leaving Marlborough’s performing arts department behind, but saying goodbye to Urinetown felt like the first of the many lasts I’ll be experiencing this year. That said, I have always been a firm believer that the beauty of theater lies in its temporary nature. No show lasts forever. As I prepare to say a whole lot more goodbyes and hellos, I feel it is only right to use my column to share some valuable lessons that this department has taught me.
First: never be embarrassed. Ever. If you didn’t get the pleasure of seeing me perform as Senator Fipp in Urinetown, picture this: I was wearing a full face of white facepaint, black lipstick and had my hair sculpted into a cone. Embracing the external absurdity of a costume forces you to set your judgement aside. I always say that the most embarrassing thing you can do as an actor is feel embarrassed. I loved how cartoonish and strange my costume was because it gave me a beautiful canvas to build a character. I have found that on and off the stage, Marlborough Theater has taught me to care less about how I think other people perceive me. My advice to all reading is to make big choices, be your true self and remember that everyone else is too busy thinking about themselves to notice that you are wearing a full face of stage makeup in your AP Environmental Science class.
Second: rejection is redirection. This one always feels tough to talk about because wanting something and then not getting it is so vulnerable and upsetting. I’ll be the first to admit that the most vulnerable I’ve ever felt has been in an audition room. Not getting a part you knew you’d be perfect for sucks. When facing rejection, it’s really easy to spiral and wonder what you did wrong. Most of the time, however, you’re doing something right, and you just don’t realize it. I have found that in auditioning for one part, a director will see that you would be a perfect fit for another. Your initial plan isn’t always the right path for you. Take rejection as it comes, feel sad about it for a day, and then get right back on track.
Finally: leave it all on the stage. This goes for both theater and life itself. Give every opportunity you have your all. Put in the effort during the rehearsal process, so that when you get on stage, you can be fully present. Enjoy the moment while it lasts and embrace the spontaneity of life.
My final piece of advice is to audition for the next Marlborough theater production, even if you don’t consider yourself an actor. The only thing you need to do to become a great actor is start acting.
