I’ve gotten a little reflective this past week or so now. It all started with a conversation in therapy about finding the balance in work and joy in performing. I learned it all ties back to a very open-ended question: “why we do it.” I’m never dishonest to any of you on here when I write my reviews and whatnot, and I won’t stop now. In truth, I never pondered that question. It’s not that I never wanted to; it was just something that hadn’t crossed my mind. So I was tasked to spend some time to think of a response not just for therapy, but for myself as an artist. I’ve shared this answer amongst family members and my therapist, but I feel truly comfortable enough to share it with all of you given theater and performance is an enormous part of my DNA. So, here we go.
While I wasn’t introduced to theatre ‘til age 7, artistry was always a very present thing in my formative years. I can’t recall every part of my childhood but I can always remember watching and imitating “Bear In The Big Blue House,” drawing, singing along to The Wiggles, being involved in elementary school music club and assemblies, and pretending to be Peter Pan via imitating the VHS Mary Martin performance. Safe to say I was performing right in my own home back then. I always gravitated towards things classmates considered “abnormal,” “other,” or whatever words a 5-year-old would use in this manner. But I kept doing it any way. Although there was hardly anyone to indulge in these activities with and I had issues making friends enough as it was. But then my catharsis happens.
I willingly agreed to see “Beauty And The Beast” before it closed on Broadway, and from that moment forward everything changed. Yes, the kid part of me was entranced by the spectacle of it all, but my eyes were always locked on the actor playing Lumiere. Looking back now, I think I was amazed at the showmanship of the actor in that heavy, fire-producing costume, and how someone could captivate a crowd like that and get them to emote. I wanted to get people to see me the way they saw these actors onstage: as someone who was accepted for liking what was considered “other.” That’s when I knew I wanted to be an actor, and the trajectory of my life has been quite the thrill ride because of 7-year-old me’s decision.
As I continued to grow, see more shows, perform in numerous roles (one of them eventually being Lumiere), the “why” question began to broaden a bit. Yes, it started with acceptance, and I believe that’s always gonna be the foundation of this question, but then I truly began to find my actual friends: people who could talk about “uncool” stuff for hours and share common thoughts and interests as me while still being able to hold my own opinions. I could actually hang with people, collaborate, network in a social sense. Yes I still have trouble socially at times but it doesn’t stop me from trying. So I can add community to my “why.” Whether it was people I worked with on and off the stage or those out in the audience, I knew somehow I was feeling like “a member of the gang” in the industry.
I guess you can also say my next “why” element I developed, connection, could go hand in hand with community. Yes, connecting with others for social purposes, and even business purposes, is factual for this one. But as I got into my 20’s and learned more more about the deeper impact live theatre could have on audiences, and began to tap into my own mental health struggles and portrayals of mental health onstage, I was opened up to a way of reaching out to others I’ve never met who were and are just like me and grapple with issues like this on a daily basis and/or maybe have issues worser than I did (and do). They wanna be heard and seen and feel like they have a voice in the world. This thought alone’s established what I wanna do with my career and the stories I wanna tell, but it’s a “why” because knowing I’d be making someone out there in the dark feel like they’re seeing themselves onstage gives me a sense of purpose and that I’m doing my job, and in a way reassures me I’m believable to an audience which in turn falls back into the acceptance branch in question I guess.
But I think the most important aspect to why I perform would have to be that it simply gives me the absolute freedom to be me; to express all the parts that make up my DNA, scars and all. It allows me to escape the clutter that comes from being a part of the day-to-day grind where it’s all “monkey see, monkey do,” and I can feel, even if not exactly like Peter Pan, that I’m flying because, seriously, who doesn’t want to fly?!
There’s nothing else in this world I can see myself doing other than being a performer, that’s for certain. Even if I don’t “make it,” I’d still wanna be involved in this field in some way, shape, or form because this business is literally what I breathe in and out. I get stir-crazy when I’m not doing anything artistically because I start to feel like a waste of space and just some joker sprawled on the couch with a beer (metaphorically that is). Of course I have to relax when need be, but if I’m not working when I know I should be, then there’s just no point anything.
My answer(s) to this question may alter and have add-ons as time marches on, but this business will stay with me. No matter how much of a love/hate relationship I have with it as an artist, it’s made me a better person. A person who’s still got a lot to learn, but definitely better than before. And to end on a positive note, I’m home within it, and there’s no better feeling than knowing you’re in an industry of wildness and unpredictability where you can feel a sense of comfort and love. May this be my home to my dying breath.
If you’ve made it to the end of this, meaning you actually read my little monologue of sorts, you’ve shown me that you’ve been following my journey as an artist and understand how integral the arts are to my life. Maybe I’ve even inspired you to share your “whys.” I hope you do. I’d love to hear your origin stories and understand why you put yourself out there in front of a crowd night after night. To my fellow artists out there, keep doing what you’re doing up on that stage! It’s a beautiful thing and, as mom will say now and again, it takes a lot of guts to get up there. Be proud of that, and keep on loving it.
#whyiperform
