It seems a little weird to me that I have absolutely no stage fright. None. It wasn't too surprising before, when I was in the chorus of Singin In The Rain. Short of tripping and falling right on stage I probably couldn't have attracted any attention from anyone who didn't know me even if I'd wanted to. I was filler.
But in this play I actually have a pretty pivotal role, even though I'm only on stage about 30% of the time. I'm the girl who gets her guy. If the audience didn't believe that I was smart and attractive and nice, they wouldn't believe that my love interest would give up the playboy life for me. So I could have a significant negative impact on the audience's ability to suspend disbelief, and their enjoyment of the play, if I weren't reasonably good. There's definitely more pressure than being in the chorus.
Still, no nerves. You gotta wonder about that.
Mulling it over, I figure it's because:
- We're community theater, so we're non-profit. The existence of the organization doesn't rise or fall on the success of this play.
- Nobody's paying big money to see us. The tickets are only $8, about the same as for a movie to see a live performance. What a deal!
- The director and others in the production are realistic about what can be expected from amateurs and they're very pleasant people to boot. No snippiness factor here.
- Very early on, I got my lines memorized so I could focus on developing nuances in the performance during rehearsals. So I feel I have a command of my role. It's the same whenever I get in front of crowds for other reasons: if I'm very confident in my understanding of the material and what I plan to say, then I'm very relaxed. Uncertainty is what makes my palms sweat.
P.S. Sweet Lynne has been asking if I'll have pictures to share. The answer is "I don't know, but I hope so." The play was taped yesterday, but in VHS format so its images are not easily convertible to stills. I'm going to ask a friend to come take pics but haven't asked yet. So ... maybe!
Previous posts about the play (in reverse order):
reflections on acting
Come Blow Your Horn