The Comfy Corner

So I think I've done enough greeting lines with enough companies now to have an opinion about them. We begin with a definition. The greeting line: the thing you do after a show where you thank the patrons for coming, shake hands, sign autographs, and take pictures. It's essentially the stage door of regional theatre! And I've officially decided that I am not a huge fan of them. I mean, I love talking to patrons and encouraging them to continue seeing theatre and what-not but the majority of the time it is just awkward. For both parties involved. It is awkward for the people who just saw the show because they are kinda overwhelmed and in a state of confusion where they are lost for words. Which is why you get comments such as,

"Wow, you can almost act, sing, and dance!"

"Is that a pillow under there or is that all you?"

"Those glasses aren't real!"

"You should consider doing this professionally!"

And that's just a select sampling. Don't get me wrong, most comments people make are genuinely heartfelt and lovely to hear. But every so often the comments are inappropriately hilarious or sometimes they can be kinda unintentionally mean. It's worse when you have to collect money in a basket at the greeting line. Because then you actually need something from them so you have people doing the avoidance smile-and-nod as they guiltily breeze past you. Also, at the theatre I'm currently working for, I've had the unique added frustration of people congratulating me for shows that my friend Anthony was in last summer and I was in fact not in. I usually just say thank you and pretend to be him for a second, but sometimes I have to explain that they have the wrong person. "We went to college together, he's a good friend of mine, we get confused all the time." Although, we don't look that much alike in my opinion. Maybe it's our Emerson training they are getting confused...

There is one greeting line situation that I love. And that is the greeting line for kid's shows. I get to feel like a rockstar and see all the cutest babies in the world at the same time! When I was with "Seussical" there was the cutest handicapped boy who came through the greeting line in a wheelchair and sang "How Lucky You Are" to us. If that doesn't make you cry then nothing will! There was also a kid that came up and handed me and my other Wickersham a banana because he thought we might be hungry. I could have died from the cuteness. Not to mention the hoards of kids dressed like the cat in the hat. I could sit in those kinds of greeting lines all day long. Otherwise, I'd rather change into my footy pajamas and crawl into my comfy corner with a bowl of mac and cheese. So whether you are in the greeting line, greeting people in the greeting line, or if you don't have to deal with this at all, stay comfy y'all.

"White, a blank page or canvas." These are the first words spoken by George in "Sunday in the Park With George." I've never really understood the depth of that first sentence until recently. There is nothing more magical than that silent moment before a band starts playing, the blinking cursor before the first word is typed, the empty staff before the first note is written, the moment before an idea becomes a physical reality. The blank canvas. It is my favorite part about art and I didn't really understand that until very recently.

I am not much of a composer/lyricist but I have written a few things and that moment when the idea in my brain becomes a song that someone else is singing or playing - that moment is more powerful than anything else in the world. I remember in college, when my class sang this group number I had written, I sat there in awe. I could have cried. I didn't write anything down or record anything because I was so mesmerized. It was the first time I've ever heard a made up song from my brain exist in real time with real people. Where there was nothing, now there was something. I also remember my very first day of marching band in the eighth grade and hearing that first downbeat of the first song of our show for the first time. I got chills. I. Always. Get. Chills.

The show I'm in currently in, "The Drowsy Chaperone" has an incredible moment when the overture is being played on a record player and midway through the song it seamlessly shifts from the record player to the live orchestra. That moment always gives me chills. Always. And this is my third time doing this show. I'm currently working on a solo show and I've turned a bunch of my blogs into songs. And that moment when I just sing a melody to my music director and he lays down an accompaniment out of nowhere. That moment is so magical. I hate to use the world "magical," but that's what it is! Harry Potter magic doesn't exist to my knowledge, but that "group mind" where two artists can be on the same page about something without even describing it in words - that be nothing else but magic, right?

So when you are hesitant to start something. If you're hesitant to write that first word, sing that first note, drop that first downbeat, take that first stroke - don't be. Because you are about to create something out of absolutely nothing. And that is magic. And that in itself is a miracle. And that feeling is incomparable to anything else in the world. Stay comfy y'all.

People say that improv can be a kind of therapy for some people. Heck, people say that about theatre too. And it's simply because in improv you get to just be as weird as you want to be. As weird as you probably are. So all of the misfits and weirdos that have never been able to find creative satisfaction in other fields find improv to be a rather comfy corner. I know this to be true because I am that misfit weirdo that recently found his comfy corner in improv. I used to hate improv. Sorry to all my friends that were in improv troupes in college, but I just did not enjoy seeing improv shows. I didn't like watching actors struggle on stage. I didn't like the discomfort of knowing that things could fall to pieces at any moment. I am the type of person that practices too much, demands perfection when perfection isn't reachable, and generally just tries too hard. I like theatre to be in a nice, squeaky clean little box that is polished till it shines. That's probably why I like musical theatre so much. But then I forced myself to join an improv troupe and the walls came tumbling down.

All of the freedom, the relaxation that I worked SO HARD to achieve in college has finally started to sink in. It's like I took some miracle antidote that made the metaphorical stick up my butt just disappear! The problem in college was clear. I was "working so hard" to "relax." Not really very effective, right? But in improv, I can't really work too hard because I don't know what's gonna happen next. So voila! I stopped working so hard and finally I was able to relax and just do it. And the fear of failure in improv is silly because the odds are totally in my favor. Just by the nature of it, it's all totally made up, so you are going to be funny 95% of the time if you are being honest.

So, therapy indeed. It seems like a contradiction to put yourself in a high-stress situation in order to unwind all the things that are tightly wound inside of you. But it totally has worked for me. All of my favorite actors started out as improvisers so of course this is the path I want to be on. So to all of my fellow therapy group members here in Boomtown, thank you for welcoming me into your world. Whether I'm actually good at it or not, it doesn't matter. It's become like a weird drug for me and I'm gonna keep taking this drug until I need something else. For now, this is the best high I've ever had. Stay comfy y'all!