First time on stage, and he’s still standing!

Auditions are coming up next week (July 19) for Arsenic and Old Lace.  If you’re still on the fence about auditioning, check out this article by Rick Kellogg, a theatre newbie who turned out to be a natural.  He was absolutely hilarious on stage, and I look forward to watching him again!

If you are saying to yourself, “I’d like to try out for a play sometime,” I would simply say, first: stop talking to yourself; people will think you’re odd.

And second, go for it. It is completely worth it. There are several unexpected benefits.  Where else can you get that instant feedback from an audience who is laughing at the hilarious lines you may deliver or applauding a well-performed dance number?

Where else can you collaborate and click with other creative cast members as you try to make a script come alive and uncover new comical nuances of your character?

And it’s a great way to form friendships with all the cast, crew, directors and the scores of people who make the theater work–a fun-loving, energetic crew of slightly off-kilter folks who are united in producing something great and making sure the audiences are entertained.

Performing in a theatrical production is not without its challenges. There is a significant time commitment to do well in your role. There are lots of rehearsals, and some of them seem to last all night. You may have to memorize a good deal of dialogue, which gets tougher to do at my age–and your family members may get tired of hearing your dialogue around the house.

If you are in a musical–and this was a shock to me–you may actually have to sing and dance. I tried to get out of any dance number I could, and the one finale number was tough for me to memorize the steps, but it all went well, eventually.

I wasn’t nervous to be on the stage in front of an audience–perhaps a career of public speaking inoculated me from that concern. But if you are worried about being in front of a crowd, don’t be. The stage lights are so bright that you can’t see the audience anyway. And you are hidden in a costume and a character that gives you carte blanche to be as silly or zany or outrageous as you like.

I didn’t mind putting on the ridiculous golf outfit with the purple pom-pom and the too-tight sweater. It wasn’t me out there, being laughed at. It was J.B. Biggley. (At least, I hope it was.)

I commented several times to fellow cast members that I felt like I had joined some sort of theatrical cult. Most everyone in the cast had been in (multiple) productions before.

They have a language and rituals that are all their own.

They pass around the energy ball.

They chop bananas.

They offer and decline imaginary plates of spaghetti.

They recite, “The lips, the teeth, the tip of the tongue, the articulatory tools.”

They talk about decrescendo and fortissimo. All of these things may seem foreign and strange to the uninitiated. Just go with it. It all makes sense eventually.

The great thing about community theater is the sense of community. Once you are there, you belong–even if it’s your first time ever backstage. The cast, crew, directors, costumers, set designers, choreographers–everyone comes from very distinct backgrounds and has plenty of other things going on in their lives.

Yet they all come together and devote an impressive amount of time, talent and energy into creating something that will hopefully entertain a few dozen people for a couple of hours one Friday night. And everyone is invested in making sure that each other member succeeds, so that the entire show can be a success.

If you’re thinking about dipping your toe in the theatrical waters, by all means, do so. I thought about it for years. After closing my first play, I can only wonder: what took me so long?

Thanks, Rick!  We can’t wait to see what your next stage adventure will be.  Don’t forget, sign up to audition here on July 19!