Actors Making Magic

Welcome to this week’s edition of Summit Stages News! I’m Rebecca Burnham and this is where you get weekly updates about musical theatre that promotes wholeness and belonging; learn about visionary creators, producers and others; and discover some mighty stories that need to be turned into musicals.

I’m on a collaborative mission to give cynics reason to become connectors, drifters hope to become builders, and enemies understanding to become friends, all through musical theatre. It’s a task that’s way bigger than I am and this newsletter is my effort to gather with people of vision, heart, and skills so we can do that work together.

Today, I’m focusing on a certain kind of energy that I’ve seen actors bring to a production, not only winning the hearts of audiences, but also inspiring the cast and elevating the entire show.

Blocking rehearsals can be a painful bore. At least, that’s been my experience, which is limited to community theatre. You have a whole bunch of people onstage, trying to dial in to their director’s vision for where they’re supposed to be and how they’re supposed to deliver their lines (which they were supposed to know, but they don’t). They do their bit, get corrected, try again, and again and again, and then wait (distractedly) while the director goes through the same process with someone else who’s also onstage. These are the kind of rehearsals that find me reminding myself why I think theatre is worth the investment in time and energy. They are unglamorous, slow, and they feel like work.

Or they can be a delight. I was surprised by delight this week at a blocking rehearsal for Act I Scene 2 of The Little Mermaid, in nearby Magrath. The moment Sebastian darted onstage and began playing to an imaginary full house, high-fiving phantoms on the front row and calling for more and more applause, I was transported to King Triton’s court. It didn’t feel like a blocking rehearsal at all. It was real theatre, more than a month before we have people in the seats.

It reminded me of the production, almost two decades ago, that drew me back into musical theatre. That was The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Our Tom was a new actor, gracing the community stage for the first time, who approached his part with focused energy that made our story feel immediate and alive. It was infectious, drawing in the ensemble as well as the other leads. Most of the time, it was playful, because that’s what Tom Sawyer is. Sometimes, like during the court room scene at the end of Act I, it was intense. Always, it helped the rest of us rise to the best we had to offer. And it wasn’t diva energy in any way. This particular actor was authentically friendly with everyone in the cast. He connected in a way that helped us all to pull together. His influence leveled up the show for everyone.

I’m not entirely sure how an actor creates such magic. I’ve seen it happen repeatedly in the years since Tom Sawyer. I’ve tried to practice it myself, but I haven’t reliably learned how yet. I didn’t do it as Mother Gothel in the lead-up to our Thorns production last week, where I struggled to connect with the character for months. It was just a couple weeks before we started performing that things started to gel for me and rehearsals finally started feeling fun.

Although some aspects of this are still a mystery to me, here are some of characteristics that actors who make magic seem to have in abundance:

• Courage to fully commit to a role, without holding back for fear that maybe that’s not what the director wants. From a director’s perspective, an actor who fully commits in an experimental way can be redirected more easily than an actor who is hesitant and fearful about doing it wrong.

• Focused playfulness. In community theatre, I think we’re inclined to associate “focus” with work instead of play. But that might be more a result of being scolded for distractability during those painful blocking rehearsals than it is a reflection of the nature of play. Games are generally more rewarding when we focus. It’s the same with acting. And there’s a great deal of fun to be had in exploring the possibilities of a character’s responses during the story that’s being told.

• Willingness to share the joy. They approach a play as a collaborative, not a competitive, sport. Their craft doesn’t say, “Look at how good I am,” but more “Come and join in the fun!” They take delight in the courageous, focused and playful offerings of their fellow cast members.

• Preparation. They are able to explore possibilities and play with their part because they know their lines and have thought about what they’re meaning to convey.

Actors and directors, what have been your experiences working with actors who make magic?