Photos and compliments

When I came out after the show, the one thing people invariably said to me was "Your costumes were amazing!" Friends and acquaintances told me how gorgeous I looked and gushed over the final dress.

I did joke a bit about how I could have forgotten all my lines and I would have gotten the same reaction. (How was my acting? Was that any good or was it just about the costumes?) Nevertheless, it felt good to be told how well I looked on stage. Many people commented on how much I looked the part, too.

And I got some lovely compliments on my performance. The music director of Urinetown told me he was proud of me. Former Urinetown castmates said I was "amazing." Well, there were a lot of nice compliments — from my looks to my singing and acting to my dancing. And the choreographer of Urinetown gave me the one compliment I think I most wanted to hear. She said, "You've developed a lot since last year." I said, "Thank you. I've been working really hard."




This dress was amazing. Vintage (from the 1930s), bias-cut satin. Girly-girl that I am, I adored it. And everybody commented on it. People would walk up to me and say "Oh my god, that dress!"




All photos © Adam Silverman

Stress Relief

I have had a very stressful and upsetting past couple of days. I'd kind of been crying off and on for most of Thursday and Friday. Friday night I had a rehearsal. As I drove the 45 minutes by myself, I cried some more. (And the fact that I had makeup on was the only thing that kept me from completely dissolving into tears.)

I knew I needed to leave my outside troubles outside. Not the easiest thing to do. Before the rehearsal started, I felt ready to work but still rather depressed.

Once I got on stage, though... Ah, this is why I do what I do! The real world falls away. It's my character and the world of the play. I thought it might be difficult to focus or be in character when I was so upset. Not a bit. (If anything, it might have been easier.)

"Playing pretend" was my greatest joy since I was a little kid. And it still is. I felt so much better for having been someone else for a couple hours. I felt so much better for having a productive and creative rehearsal.

I have theatre to keep me sane. I don't know what I'd do without it.

The Fairest Rejection

Several months ago, I had responded to a call for resumes/headshots for a summer production of Man of La Mancha (for a local professional theatre company that occasionally hires Equity actors in addition to non-Equity actors). My voice teacher said, "Oh, they'll definitely at least see you (for an audition)." But I never got called in for an audition.

Yesterday, I decided to see who will be playing Aldonza. It's Emily Skinner. I guess if you have a Tony nominee, you don't need to see local actresses for the role! Ha!

Zombies

There's something about letting go of yourself and doing something absolutely ridiculous that is so important.

On Saturday I left my stress behind and pretended to be a zombie. I wasn't trying to find a job. I wasn't trying to advance my acting career (even as I was acting). I wasn't worrying about my looks. I just indulged in something that had no other purpose than to be fun.

I came up with a zombie-doll concept for my costume. I did the hair and eyelashes (which were my favorite bit). Becca did my lip wound. I did my zombie makeup with later touch-ups by Becca. Makeup design overall was by Triptych, Becca and Sara's makeup business (which I hope to help them expand).

Compliment and rejection

So, last night after the show, a guy came up to Kevin and asked to be introduced to me. He was a prominent voice teacher in the area, and he said I sounded terrific and that every word I sang was clear. Yay! :)

... And then I got rejected from West Side Story, of course. Yet again, I didn't even get into the chorus. *grumps*

Emotional Roller-Coaster

The past few days have been a bit crazy emotionally.

Tuesday night I auditioned for Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. That audition went pretty well. It was tough to switch gears from being so deep into playing Hope to then have to play Southern-accented Maggie the Cat. There was another girl there who was quite good — though I thought I was better. And apparently there were other people who were good on Monday night. I really want the role of Maggie. I'm trying to decide whether I'd accept Mae, and I'm leaning toward no. We'll see how that one turns out.

After being out late eating post-audition sushi, I had to go home ... and memorize a Shakespearean monologue for an audition at 10 the next morning! Yes, I'm a procrastinator, but I would have preferred not to have had to do this at the last minute. Unfortunately, I had no time to memorize it earlier. Fortunately, I am extremely speedy at memorizing lines, so I memorized the monologue (Emilia from Act IV, Scene 3 of Othello) in about half an hour.

So I got up on Wednesday morning and went to audition for Vermont Stage Company and a director who is notoriously snobby about acting/casting. (I don't say that to be disparaging. It's just that if he doesn't think he can find the talent he's looking for in the local area, he'll go to New York to cast shows.) My goal going in was just to showcase myself well and not embarrass myself. Hey, I'm not very experienced with Shakespeare, and my monologue was under-prepared. I just wanted to not jeopardize any possible future auditions for him (by causing him to think, "Oh, here comes that girl who isn't good.")

I did the monologue. Then he said, he wanted me to do the monologue again and that he was going to give me "adjustment." So he told me to play it stronger. I did the monologue again. I could tell he seemed pleased during one point, and then he said, "Yeah!"

Success! Who knows whether I'll get in, and I won't hear for a while anyway. They're doing King Lear in the spring. But I think I did well and didn't embarrass myself. :)

Then between my giddy post-audition mood and the fact that it was opening night, I was bouncing around the house all day. I had no appetite and was feeling totally distracted.

The first performance I was kind of displeased with. There were some errors (not mine), problems with the monitor not working (which affected some of my songs) ... and just generally I don't think I did as well as I would have liked. So I was rather disappointed.

Then yesterday I tried to take it easy ... because I think I'm getting sick. (Several people in our cast are sick.) My throat hurt, and I didn't feel great vocally. But overall the show felt much better! Crazy. Friends and cast-mates told me I sounded good, even though I felt like I was struggling vocally.

So now I'm at work, feeling exhausted (and blue) and unwell. (My throat really hurts.) And my goal for the next two days is just to get through the performances in one piece, without killing my voice or getting more ill.

Last night, Cladwell (aka Patient Zero) gave me a shot of a concoction he was using for his voice: vinegar, water, cayenne pepper, lemon and honey. And it tasted like it, too! But I think it helped.

Urinetown again

Here are some gratuitous photos of Urinetown rehearsals. There isn't a huge variety of photos available because Adam was at only one rehearsal. It was a dance rehearsal, so there are no photos of "scenes" and it was really dark, so several photos have motion blur. But these are two of my favorites that have me in them.



We moved into the theatre last night — and that was an adventure. It was very weird getting used to the new spacing (with exits, entrances and levels). I fell down some stairs in the big "Act One Finale" and kept going straight over to my costar like I was supposed to. But the half-amused, half-concerned look on his face made me say my lines in a laughing way.

We open a week from today! Eeee!

(Photos © 2007, Adam Silverman)

Top G

I have a kind of love-hate relationship with the G above the staff. That G just keeps taunting me.

It's in my range, but it's at the upper reaches of my range. Sometimes I can hit it really well. Other times it sounds thin and squeaky.

I first became acquainted with this note during My Fair Lady. Until that show, I had always considered myself an alto. I'm more accurately a mezzo-soprano or second soprano. But I always enjoyed the challenge of singing harmony and feel more comfortable in my lower to middle range. And then there's this G in two songs: at the end of "I Could Have Danced All Night" and at the end of "Show Me." It was a tough note to hit, but I did it. It's a scary note. Missing it is not pretty. The role was double cast, and the other girl playing Eliza had her voice crack on that note. (And for the second song, she didn't even attempt it.) I have to admit that part of me took a certain amount of pleasure in the fact that her voice cracked and mine didn't. There's some schadenfreude for you. (I did feel sorry for her, too, though. So it wasn't completely mean.)

During Damn Yankees I also sang that G. It was in the "Heart" reprise at the curtain call. I felt more confident in general, and I didn't have the pressure of having to sing it solo, so that one was pretty easy.

For Lauren's wedding, I'm singing "Unexpected Song," which ends on ... the G above the staff. Lauren said to me, "The piano player wants to know whether you can hit that G." "Yes, I can sing that G," I replied confidently. And then immediately thought, "Oh god, can I hit it?"

During my voice lesson, my teacher took the last verse of the song down a step because I was having trouble hitting it well. The following week, I had a strong suspicion that he forgot to take it down. But I told myself that he didn't forget, and that gave me the confidence to hit that note.

The problem is when I psych myself out. When I worry about it, I don't do well. When I convince myself that I can sing that G well, I do fine. And my voice teacher says we vocalize almost an octave higher. So it's really not out of my range. It's just outside of my comfortable range.

And now there's Urinetown. I don't have to just hit that note at the end of the song (like every other time I've had to sing it). There are some songs where I basically bop around on that G (or just below it) for several measures at a time! Haha! And I have to go a half-step higher, too: to a G-sharp or A-flat.

So I'm obviously going to have to become very familiar with that G. I can't ignore it anymore. I can't sing it once and be done. I'm going to have to become comfortable with that G (or as comfortable as I can get). The solution is clear: I can't hate the G any more. I can't fear the G any more.

I must learn to love that G.

Lame show, great friends

It has been four and a half years since I've been in a musical! That last musical was Damn Yankees in early 2003.

As a theatrical experience, it was less than great. I was in the women's chorus, which does almost nothing in the show. Seriously: I sang in half a song, danced in a song and a half and had about three lines. It didn't help to be working with a director who treated non-leads as unimportant.

As a life-changing experience, however, it is one of the pivotal moments in my life. It was through Damn Yankees that I met some of my closest, dearest friends. (And through them, I met other close friends.)

I think that might be another reason why I don't turn up my nose at tiny roles or bland shows.

Joy!

I got cast as Hope in Urinetown!

Finally, I get to do a musical — after four and a half years! (And the last musical I did was female chorus in Damn Yankees, which practically doesn't count.)

Of course, now I'm feeling slightly paranoid. Did I dream it? Or maybe I misheard. It doesn't help that the call was straight out of a cell-phone commercial:

Producer: We'd like to offer you the role of Hope.
Me: Oh, thank you!
Producer: ... Hello?
Me: Can you hear me? Hello?
Phone: *is dead*
Me: Ack! Oh my god! *dials rapidly to call the guy back*

After I called him back he repeated the offer, since he hadn't heard my response. So maybe I didn't dream it.

I have yet to figure out what will be happening with regard to the ren faire. I feel kind of guilty about that — but not too guilty. After all, I need to do what's right for me.

And I am so excited! :D

The story behind the URL

My dad reminded me of this story the other day. (I don't actually remember the incident myself, but I'd heard it before from multiple family members.)

When I was 2 years old, I used to go around singing all the time. One day, my grandma asked me why I sang all the time. I replied, "I have music in my body!"

(Yes, I was talking in complete sentences and singing at 2 years old.) That story seems to be a perfect way to start this blog. There's something in me — in all artists — that fuels this unexplained need to create, to play, to explore, to imagine. My 2-year-old self understood it, perhaps better than my adult self does. Art is a part of me, and I should embrace it and feed my passion.