Image taken from the cover of Carol Burnett Sings: Let Me Entertain You.

The phone rang on Friday night at 10p, as expected. The first rehearsal was scheduled to start in 12 1/2 hours. I had arrived home just 20 minutes before, after spending 90 minutes at a 2nd callback for the lead in a musical revival (of sorts). 30 minutes prior to that 2nd callback I spent an hour (& $15) warming up. The night before the 2nd callback I spent 2 1/2 hours learning 2 songs & 2 scenes (& reviewing 2 other scenes) as The Director was not, as we were previously told, ready to cast “the leads” and we would have to come back with the new material, ready to play. The night before that I spent 2 1/2 hours at the 1st callback. The night before that I spent 30 minutes (& $15) warming up prior to a short audition. The night before that I spent an hour preping for said audition, while the week prior to the audition I had 2 voice lessons (& spent $150) to discover what to sing as well as prepping it. That same week I was emailed by The Director as to what I should prepare to put my best foot forward. A few weeks before that The Producer looked me in the face at the production meeting where the show was proposed and said, “We’re looking to do this show for you.”

Which brings us to the ringing of the phone. It was the Director calling – someone I’ve done 2 shows with for the same theater company, someone who I’ve assisted behind the scenes so she can get some help with growing the thater company, someone I’ve come to consider my friend personally.

It was like she read from The Script. Y’know, the one taken from Why Michelle Just Doesn’t Want To Be A Part Of This Business No More. It goes a little something like that call:

“First off, I want to thank you so much for giving us so much of your time this week.”

I gave Luke the thumbs down. He rubbed my back.

“You know how much we think you’re talented, and you’re just so unique. You really showed us this week, though, that your acting skills go far beyond what we thought you could do originally. You gave The Choreographer chills when you sang ‘Usher From The Mezzanine’ - really. (Beat) But we’ve decided to go in a different direction.”

I asked her who she cast. The Ingenue, she said. I silently grieved for character actresses everywhere when I learned that a role that Carol Burnett originated went to a petite, blond soprano who can’t consistently belt.

“The reason we kept you so long tonight” – after the other contenders for the part (including The Ingenue) were sent away, I was asked to come into the room to read more and tap dance (ALONE!) with The Choreographer – “was that we were honestly thinking about double casting this role, but we realized it would have been a nightmare for me and The Choreographer. We do have another role we’d like to offer you, but we’ll understand if you want to sit this one out….”

Yes, please, sitting out sounds good. I patted myself on the back for saying “No”, although it was little comfort at the time. Although I’m itching to get on stage, I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing The Ingenue do “my part” at every rehearsal. I’m also not willing to stretch myself so thin for “another role”, committing myself to 12 hours of rehearsal/week for 3 weeks on top of my coaching & my day job.

So, here I stand, Multiple Character Woman. That’s what I’ve been cast in for 3 out of 3 shows in the last 2 years. Don’t get me wrong – I love the chance to create new characters, to inhabit multiple people in one show, to get the laughs. But The Script hurts, and it hurts because it has said, “You’re unique, and you’re talented, and you bring to the table something that nobody else does. (Beat) But we don’t know what to do with you.” It hurts because it’s also said, “There’s a role out there for you. Somewhere. And I’m going to find it.”

I’m 31 years old. I’m still waiting.

The Director told me that she’s committed to finding a show that the theater company can do that will showcase me and my talents. I don’t believe her. I honestly now feel like I’m She That Can Not Be Cast (As A Lead). If a role that was written as a vehicle for Carol Burnett is given to an ingenue, I certainly have no idea what The Role For Me could possibly ever be.

This is where I wish I was a singing, writing comedianne, so I can create that role. This is also where I wish I was able to control my artistic passion & not leave it in the hands of others. Without being given a role, I can’t perform. Artists can paint and writers can write and dancers can dance when they please, but musical theater performers have to wait to be granted their wish. And while I know I DO have the ability to create my own performance, and I can take classes until the cows come home, it’s not the same as doing what I love – performing.

I wanted this post to go into all the reasons why this was a positive experience for me: what I learned, what was reinforced. But honestly, I’m not ready for that yet. I’m still sad. I’m still grieving. I’m still bitter and not sure how and when I want to move forward. Thankfully coaching fills a huge space in me that being on stage used to take up, but I know I’m not fully me unless I’m able to perform.

One of my clients who went to school for musical theater but hasn’t performed in years said to me this week, “When people ask what I’ve been up to, I can tell them about my desk job and I can tell them about my marriage. But where’s the Me in that?”

I’m still trying to find my way to The Me.

 

 

Related posts:

1. “How is this my life?”
2. Design Your Life!
3. Your Life Sentence: The Six-Word Memoir

Tags: About Michelle

This entry was posted on Thursday, January 29th, 2009 at 2:40 pm and is filed under Clear Careers. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.