Stage Fright and Superman
April 25th, 2006 . by mattOur mother put us on stage when we were five. I’m still not sure whether she did so because we couldn’t afford a babysitter, and Dad was away, or whether she really wanted us to begin a Life on the Stage; regardless, it did make a huge impact on me at the time. Evan (my brother) and I played little Chinese children in a production of “Teahouse of the August Moon”, which to this day I know nothing about… all I remember is that we got to wear cool little “coolie” straw hats, and large robes, and chinese slippers. There was a live goat on stage, too, and it was part of our job to keep the goat from eating the set. Sometimes the goat got rambunctious, and tried to tear into the styrofoam “jeep” that my brother and I sat on most of the play.
It’s interesting to think that I was in no way conscious of the audience that filled the playhouse each night. As far as I was concerned, being on stage was just another fun place to be, and wasn’t that different than the playground at kindergarten, or the musty museum that my father worked in, or our large backyard that led into a cluster of trees. There were rules that you had to follow, just like any other place (don’t talk until it’s your “line”, don’t fidget too much). That might be why you are supposed to never work with children or animals in theatre. They steal the show because they’re not in character; they’re completely unfazed by the concept of creating a world on Stage, and watching this is charming.
Maybe children that grow up in a mortuary are completely comfortable with death, or at least dead people. Children of scientists don’t get spooked by bugs or snakes or other creepy things. Skydivers that dive with their kids raise children that aren’t afraid of heights? I jest. But it seems to me that children of actors aren’t prone to stage fright. I’ve never had it. I’ve certainly been nervous about being on stage before, I get butterflies every once and a while, usually when I feel unprepared for something I’m about to do, but never outright fear. The stage for me is the most comfortable place I can think of being. I’d rather stand in front of a crowd of ten thousand people than be in a room with four or five strangers.
My room mate is different. She can’t imagine anything less fun than to be singled out on stage, in front of a group of any size. She’s acting as stage manager for the Cabaret, and last night we went over the curtain call, when we figure out who takes a bow when and how. It was suggested that I bring out the crew that has been so instrumental in making this production a reality, and everyone agreed that this would be a great idea. But this morning my room mate admitted that she was absolutely not going to be a part of the “crew bow”. Stage fright.
In some ways I can’t even fathom someone being that uncomfortable with being on stage. But again, there are plenty of things that I hate doing, and mostly out of fear of them. Or at least intense discomfort. As I said, being in small groups of people I don’t know spooks me. If I’m not a center of attention, and therefore don’t have a “job” to be doing, I’m the guy in the corner at a party that is sitting by himself, looking really awkward and trying hard not to. If I spend too much time by myself, for whatever reason, this behavior gets worse. I’ll gradually become more and more anti-social until I finally come up with weeks worth of excuses to never leave the house. I’m a home-body, and prefer to be alone. I used to think (but still use the excuse) that the reason I never hang out in local bars here in Charleston is because I’ve spent most of my life playing in them, but I think that’s a lie. I just have a hard time being comfortable in most social situations.
Why? Who knows. I think that at some point I realized that the only place that really did make me feel at home was the stage. Anywhere else was an aspect of my “Clark Kent” alter-ego, and that was the way I could explain away my shyness and feelings of discomfort. I would always be better on stage. Able to leap tall buildings and all that.
This is a blessing and a curse, I know. A blessing because I have had and hopefully will continue to have the opportunity to entertain people for a living, and it just happens to be something I love with all my heart. That’s great, isn’t it? But a curse because it’s not typically a secure or lucrative way to live, being on stage. And sometimes, a curse because it’s so difficult: so personal, and difficult to escape, even in my ‘alter-ego’. When a rehersal goes badly I can’t go home at five and have a drink and forget about it. It does tend to crush me for a while. It does take an enormous amount of drive and determination and even a little bit of talent, qualities that every artist I’ve ever known questions about themselves, constantly. When I look into my future, sometimes, I wonder if I can do what my mother is doing, at her age. A full-time actress who has found a job that is extremely secure by theatre standards… and yet she still deals with the very real possibility that it could all go away by this time next year. It’s inspiring, and frustrating, at the same time.
I won’t lie. Sometimes I wish that Mom had taken Evan and me to her big corner office in a high-rise office building in a big city, where she was a successful lawyer, instead of the tiny community theatre where she was a successful actress. And I would have grown up loving old dusty law books and late hours studying the ins and outs of our government’s rules and regulations and then make a fortune by the time I’m 35 instead of loving the smell of an ancient theatre house and the late hours playing rock music and and barely paying rent. Sometimes I wish that it was easier to be Superman when I’m not on stage.
But mostly I feel pretty lucky to have a Home that is always there for me, in every town and city in the world, and hope that I always feel that way. And I can’t honestly say that if I ever have kids I won’t bring them on stage with me to “corral some goats” of their own.
i feel the same way about my parents alot. their favorite lines were “we just want you to be happy” and “whatever you choose to do, make sure you like it, and it at least pays the bills” i never got that ’shoot for the stars’ mentality instilled in me, and i think because of that i never wanted to go to medical school or run for office. when i chose my major in college i didn’t think about how that was going to translate into a paycheck. psychology classes made me happy, so that was the obvious choice.
now i’m just looking for something that i don’t hate to do for 8 hours a day.
i’m not quite there yet.
This is very interesting to me. I totally relate to you where you say you are a home body and feel awkward in social situations, and feel anti-social for weeks on end. I am the same way. But it’s so facinating and foreign to me that the other side of the coin for you is complete comfort on the stage. Don’t get me wrong, I can muster it if I have to. I was a music major, and playing juries and recitals and all that. I even played a minor role in a play when the casted actress had to leave town for a family illness, and I was the only stage hand the right age to do it. But it takes such extreme energy for me to do, that it’s extremely draining on my energy. It’s one of the reasons I’m not a band teacher afterall, but instead a claims examiner, who goes into her office and closes the door, working happily all day listening to music. It’s just more comfortable.
Reading your entry makes me wonder if I did more extroverted things like act or perform more often, if it’d become easier for me and I’d find a new side of myself, or if I’d be doing a disservice to myself in going against my natural inclinations; sort of betraying my true self somehow. Though, I suppose there is probably a happy medium somewhere.
I am always interested by people’s complexities and variations and combinations of introversion and extroversion. Thanks for the entry.
Duality is the word of the day. The best thing I ever learned was the realization that things can exist and not exist at the same time — you can be social and anti-social and somehow find yourself not contradicted. Are you the product of your parents’ interest? Sometimes.
Take myself for example. Could I sing on a stage? Probably not. I say probably because you simply don’t know what you’re capable of until you do it. It’s a personal rule of mine not to speak in definites. The one time you do, you’ll turn the corner and run into the “exception to the rule”. So, probably a no on the stage thing. However–
I have my own stage in a matter of speaking. My mother is a horsebackriding instructor. British Horse Society certified. Good lady. TOUGH lady. It still behooves me to this day how a five foot tall lady can jack up a thousand-pound horse, or command respect from any animal with a stare. She’s my hero. Side-bar, moving on….
I was plopped on top of a pony before I could even walk well. Even though it’s a slight exaggeration, I’d like to say it’s the only thing I REALLY know. An inherent talent, like your stage acting, that I can leave, abuse, but go back to with a enormous sense of familiarity, like I’m home, and still do it well. I can compete in front of thousands of people, and have, without so much as an inch of fear, which, looking back, is crazy–I’m on the back of a living, breathing HERD ANIMAL that is very capable of tossing me off if the need was felt. And I’ve been tossed. In front of thousands of people, onto large wooden jumps, landing with my ass in the air for all to see. But it isn’t a source of vulnerability for me, not even then. I just don’t fear that kind of evaluation. But dear god, put me in a room with people that I THINK will evaluate me personally, like a room full of musicians, persay, and I’m a shadow of my former self. Despite knowing how capable and interesting a person I am, I clam up. You guys intimidate the living piss out of me, for no reason. I think it’s what you do that gets me. Singing and performing spell vulnerability to me, despite my desires to do so. Daulity. Odds are, jumping on a herd animal vexes a number of you, too.
Such is life!
PS. Your anti-social behavior I’m sure is more of a blessing than meets the eye. Keeps you at home and tinkering with your talents… instead of you being distracted by people, and just having a dilettante-like, superficial or pretentious knowledge of your craft, you’re naturally put in a position to focus on what you love to do.
I often wish my parents had fostered the dreamer in me more. Instead they were more “practical” people. Sure, my mother had a true appreciation for art and culture, but while teaching me to appreciate it as well, she made it seem so unattainable. They would steer me towards a career that would pay the bills instead of feed the artist within me. Figure skating lessons, music lessons, horseback riding lessons… those things were shot down. But if I wanted to go to some sort of college prep course or career planning seminar, then they were gung-ho. I *am* the girl who went to the law firm and sat amongst the books. I chose a “practical” major in college because “that’s where the money was”. Well, six years later I’m not using that degree and certainly not making a ton of money. And now the actor/dreamer/music maker/artist in me feels neglected. Sadly, I can’t help but feel like it’s too late to change that. So although the sight of a playbill or the smell of an ancient theatre house ignite the artist within me (way more the meiotic process of cell division does), I can’t help but feel a bit sad because it’s a world that seems to have slipped through my fingers.
I love how you write Matt. You have a way of being able to write things down that I’m only ever able to capture with a different medium.
But I definitely know what you mean. I’ll never understand people who can be so social and be terrified of being on a stage. But those same people don’t understand me because I’m the complete opposite. Always been fine on a stage but I almost never leave my house.
i think i speak for us all when i say i’m glad you’re not a stuffy laywer. i don’t think it’s in you.
i started out as a really shy kid who’d freak if she ever had to order by herself at a fast food place to not having a problem with performing in any capacity. even on a whim. i, too, like to be on stage. i’m told it’s because acting’s in my blood, but i really had to learn it. i just decided to get over it and followed through!
your description of yourself as a home-body sounds like me lately. it’s good to have time to yourself and not be “on,” right?
“I just have a hard time being comfortable in most social situations.”
this quote sticks out in my mind the most….I would have never thought YOU would have a hard time in social situations. I too have become a homebody since I made my move to charleston, I go out when I want to and when there is good music going on or sometimes I skip out on it all together and relax on my futon and play with my roomate’s dog. I have always had social situation issues. I’m always wonder what others are thinking of me at that very moment. I hate not having someone to “go with me” to a show or bar or restaurant, even if I know someone I know might actually be there, I don’t like walking in alone and having to look lost till I find my friend(s).
With that being said. I snagged my tix for Kiki Cabaret a week ago so I will be there for sure routing you on!
At a drop zone outside Chicago where I went skydiving, there were pictures all over of the people who run the place and of big coordinated dives, etc, including many of the owner and his kids skydiving together. That kid probably loved to jump off shit from a young age.
My parents never really guided me to a specific career path; they wanted me to be well rounded with music (quit piano and flute) and sports (quit quit quit) and go to college for something that I loved, without worrying about money. they were/are both in medicine, my dad being a cardiologist and my mom being a nurse practitioner, but since my dad was gone so much all I got out of that influence was knowing a lot of medical terms, always having a doctor to tell me what I might be throwing up from, and no problem whatsoever with needles.
Unfotunately I am worrying about money and have no idea what I’m gonna end up doing. But I dont blame that on my parents. I just hope I can work something out.
p.s. why does your blog make people want to comment novels? sorry.
I grew up with my father dragging me around old, musty courtrooms and large office buildings in Atlanta full of lawyers. I spent a lot of time hanging out in my mother’s orthodontic office (she even had a shit ton of toys and books to keep the kids happy). But I HATE law offices and courtrooms. I hate getting my teeth cleaned; I even have an irrational fear of floss. I’ve always been drawn to the mysterious places places I would stumble upon when I fled the boredom of sitting in court for hours at a time. Or the lives I dreamt up while reading those books in my mom’s waiting room. I think my overactive imagination had much more to do with my development than my actual circumstances as a small child. So I guess you should just thank god that you were lucky enough to grow up in circumstances that were in line with your character. Or maybe not. Sometimes I think it’s easier for me to know who I am because of the dissonances.
I have a mental image that came to me very clearly as I read this.
A couple of years ago, you guys played one of your shows at the Georgia Theatre. Somehow, after the show, you were coerced in following us, with a large crowd in tow, back to our apartment.
We spent a few minutes giving everyone the “grand tour” of the place and enjoying the chaos as random people climbed up and down the various ladders of our lofts.
We all gathered in the living room, milling about and talking in small groups. I looked around, checking to see that everyone was accounted for and that no one was destroying property. Everything looked normal, until I glanced into a dark corner of the room.
You were standing there, alone and still in your clothes from the stage, twirling a desk chair with a look of intense concentration.
There you go.
I’d also like to weigh in and say that, like everyone else, I’m glad you didn’t turn out to be a lawyer. I work for a lawyer. Lawyers suck.
While I couldn’t say it as well as she, catie and I have a very similar account of that night. But mine involves you more churning that chair around and around, maybe so it was almost like conversation. We didn’t interupt you.
All this lawyer hatred…
Can’t there be good lawyers? Like happy, humanitarian lawyers! That’s what I want to be. Amanda Mae especially gets a bonk in the head for the lawyer dissing… see if I buy you nice fancy dinners when I’m no longer poor
My first ever stage performance was in kindergarten. It was some medley of fairy tales or something of the sort. All I remember is that I was in a threesome (three pigs, goldilocks & the three bears, I dunno) and the other two kids in my scene totally freaked out and wouldn’t say a word. So I did the entire scene by myself and I was so mad at them I wouldn’t talk to them again for days!
In high school I did drama. Technically, I got my Varsity Letter in Drama (who knew this was even possible?) I never got a lead, but I always had a blast.
Now I teach undergraduate classes at a university. Still a performance with a HIGHLY critical audience, but now it’s mostly improv and the line of proscenium is so much more blurry and complex. Some people are just meant to be on stage. And Matt, you would never have made it as a lawyer, the kilts wouldn’t hold up in court =)
Personally, I always thought Clark Kent was sexier than Superman.
Normally I’m not one to comment on other people’s journal, but this time I thought I might as well put my two cents in.
I have been on stage longer than I can even remember and I could never imagine doing anything else. Off stage I am very shy and extremely introverted, but put me on stage and the shy me melts away.
It all started with dance and morphed into an intense love for music. I first learned the clarinet and detested it so I switched to bassoon. Then in high school I picked up the marimba. After that I would sneak into the band hall whenever I could, even if it was just for a few minutes, so I could practice on the school marimba. I would stay up all hours of the night practicing bassoon or guitar, annoying my parents and the neighbors to no end. Playing became like an addiction and it was all I would think about.
I have embraced the idea that you only have one life to live so stop thinking about what is reasonable and start doing what you’re passionate about. I have seen too many people give up what they love for a desk job that they complain about for the rest of eternity. Maybe you all think I’m crazy, and I probably am, but I’d rather be on stage than imagining what it would be like if I wasn’t.
he is, lindsay jean. he is.
all about the black-rimmed glasses.
oh yeah.
You and I have very similar upbringings…reading this nearly made me cry. The stage is an amazing place. I couldn’t have said what you wrote any better. beautiful.
[…] I’ve lived my life with that in mind for years and years. And I can vouch that it works. Although I feel blessed that I currently might just have the best day job in the entire world, I still know that I can’t keep it forever. It’s the principle of the matter, and I have to agree with Mr. Mamet. If you have something else to do, you’ll do it. I can see both sides, for sure, but I know that currently I miss the days of being able to focus on my artistic pursuits without any other distractions. But I’ve already posted on that topic. He also gives really sage advice on how to handle the more miserable elements of the theatre/music/dance/etc. business… the “Business” of being an artist. It all rings with a fantastic element of simple truth to me, and even though I consider David Mamet to be an international success, I can tell by his turn of phrase that he’s been where I have been, and made it through the worst parts of it, and moved on. It’s inspiring. […]
I hadn’t seen this entry till now, but I can really relate. I grew up in the theatre also, although never got to be on stage as a kid. But that atmosphere has always stayed close to my heart. And I think maybe the shyness factor in life plus the contradictory love for being on stage is part of that upbringing, because I really do feel that same way.
My brother actually left a desk job to peruse a theatre career, and not just left the job, moved back to our country (Russia) to work with the director we grew up with.
I am still at a point where I don’t know, because of my love for humanitarian work. I do think people should rethink their view of the world as a black and white binary of desk job vs. artistic job. There is work out there that makes a difference in people’s lives.
However, I do feel that as passionate as I am about such work, I will always miss the theatrical world and maybe like you I may come back to it at some point in my life. It’s a drug alright, once you get a taste of it, you’ll always want more.
Tramadol…
Tramadol…