Tuesday morning- I woke up after the first tech rehearsal with no voice. My throat was cloaked with multiple layers of sandpaper. It sounded as if I had been smoking for fifty years. Opening night for Anything Goes was Friday. As Reno, my voice was crucial. As a senior in high school with ambition in musical theatre, this role was crucial to me. I had been working my entire life for this opportunity. My step- dad was in theatre, so he started me in theatre as soon I could dance (which was practically before I could walk). I had performed my fair share of small roles from Baby June in Gypsy to Random White Girl #3 in West Side Story. Now I was Reno in Anything Goes. And I had no voice.
My step- dad, Greg, had no sympathy. He had warned me at Monday’s rehearsal not to push over the pit and the tap dancers. I would have a mic for the performances.
‘Don’t push, don’t push, don’t push,’ Greg said over and over again. I still pushed and now I have no voice.
The news of my voice spread like a tornado whipping through the cast, leaving the remains of a once fantastic musical in its wake. The director kept a calm façade and said that he would figure something out. Greg, who was the vocal coach, began rehearsing the understudy. The director found me in the hall; his dark brown eyes had a sparkle like sparks flying from coal.
‘Allyson,’ he said, ‘we got the mics.’ He simulated the pea sized mic near his ear.
I was confused; I knew that we had been fundraising for these new, wireless mics for the actors. He continued, barely giving me time to respond.
‘Well, we were only going to turn the mics on when you sing, but why don’t we just keep your mic on the entire time? That way you don’t have to strain your voice. Now get to class, I’ll see you at rehearsal!’
I almost hugged him. I was Reno. At lunch, I left school to get tea with honey for my voice. The air seemed crisper than it had when I had left for school. I called my step- dad in the car to give him the news. He was pleased, but still concerned that my voice might not come back. He also reminded me how whispering would only hurt my voice more; I should continue to talk at a normal level but drink lots of tea.
Thursday- My voice came back, but it wasn’t only Greg that was scared that I would lose it again. Now that I had my voice, the nerves kicked in. Opening night loomed closer. I knew I was prepared; we had been in rehearsal for 5 months. I just wanted to not to be Allyson. For 2 days, I just wanted to be Reno Sweeney, the glamorous night club singer.
Friday night- the lights in the audience went down. It was so dark, you couldn’t tell where the auditorium ended. The lights that were aimed at the stage looked like lasers in a rainbow of colors. I was in the lobby of the theatre with my seven ‘angels’ behind me, ready to make my dramatic entrance as Reno. The orchestra played the first chord, before going into the theme of the title song. I was shaking so hard I thought that the bobby pins in my short hair would fall out. I smiled and asked myself how many times in the course of the past five months had I heard that tune? I could have sworn my heart beat that rhythm. I stood by the door to the theatre, anxious for my cue. I finally heard ‘We want a picture of you coming up the gang plank.’ I pushed through the doors and headed towards the rainbow of laser lights, with my angels parading behind me. As I walked towards the stage, I felt the slow decline of the floor under my feet; I had to be careful not to hit the filthy orange chairs filled with audience members. I knew somewhere in the auditorium sat my mom, proud of her little girl. She was probably shaking more than me. My friends from dance school sat in those orange seats, proud of the girl that they had spent years dancing with. The three stairs that led to the stage were the hardest three steps that I ever had to climb. I was wearing character shoes, which unfortunately have an inch and half heel. I knew I could dance in those shoes better than I could climb stairs in them. I was worried my voice would be shaking who I spotted my mom sitting fourth row center. I knew the only thing that would make her breathe for the first time since that same chord in the overture that made me start to shake, would be if I nailed my first song, ‘You’re the Top.’ While Mike, who was playing Billy, sang the beginning, I began to feel less and less nervous. I hadn’t put this much work into this role to end up sounding like a sixty year old chain smoker. I sang, trying to ration my voice so it would last. At the end of the song, I was worried about how the audience perceived it. They loved it, and my mom was finally able to breathe.
Saturday Night- We had finished the final performance. There had been a Friday night, a Saturday matinee and a Saturday night. Each performance, I became more and more confident and morphed more and more into Reno. As the last curtain fell, my adrenaline was still flowing. I turned to the other actors and felt so proud of them. They were my best friends, my family. We didn’t want this to be over. After this, we would all be separated. At the cast party, I knew I wasn’t Reno anymore. I was Allyson again. The space in my stomach where the nerves had lived all weekend now felt empty. This show had been my life for five months. In the blink of an eye, it was all over.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
WA 2 Draft 2
Tuesday morning- I woke up after the first tech rehearsal with almost no voice. Opening night for Anything Goes was Friday. As Reno, my voice was crucial. As a senior in high school with an ambition in musical theatre, this role was crucial to me. I had been working my entire life for this opportunity. My entire life had been spent in the theatre. My step- dad was in theatre, so he started me in theatre since I could dance (which was practically before I could walk). I had performed my fair share of small roles from Baby June in Gypsy to Random White Girl #3 in West Side Story. Now, curtain up, light the lights because it’s my turn. I was Reno in Anything Goes. And I had no voice.
My step- dad, Greg, had no sympathy. He had warned me at Monday’s rehearsal not to push over the pit and the tap dancers. I would have a mic for the performances. Don’t push, don’t push, don’t push Greg said over and over again. I still pushed and now I have no voice as evidence.
The news of my lost voice spread quickly around the cast like wildfire. The director kept his calm façade and said that he would figure something out. Greg, who was the vocal coach, began rehearsing the understudy incase, god forbid, she had to be used. Then my director found me in the hall, his dark brown eyes had a shine that reminded me of sparks excitingly flying from coal. He pulled me over, his hands practically jittering as if he had received a standing ovation. Or just been told that he couldn’t perform.
‘Allyson,’ he said, ‘we got the mics.’ He created an imaginary pea sized mic near his ear.
I was confused; I knew that we had been fundraising for these new, wireless mics for the 6 leads. He continued, barely giving me time to respond.
‘Well, we were only going to turn the mics on when you sing, but why don’t we just keep your mic on the entire time? That way you don’t have to strain your voice. Now get to class, I’ll see you at rehearsal!’
I almost hugged him. I was Reno. At lunch, I left school to get tea with honey. The air seemed crisper than it had when I had left for school. I called my step- dad in the car to give him the news. He was pleased, but still concerned that my voice might come back. He also reminded me how whispering would only hurt my voice more; I should continue to talk at a normal level but drink lots of tea.
Thursday- My voice came back, but it wasn’t only Greg that was scared that I would lose it again. Now that I had my voice, the nerves kicked in. Opening night loomed closer. I knew I was prepared; we had been in rehearsal for 5 months. I just wanted to not to be Allyson for 2 days, I wanted to be Reno Sweeney, the glamorous Evangelical night club singer.
Friday night- the lights in the audience went down. It was so dark, you couldn’t tell where the auditorium ended. The lights that were aimed at the stage looked like lasers in a rainbow of colors. I was in the lobby of the theatre with my seven ‘angels’ behind me, ready to make my dramatic Reno entrance. The pit played the first chord, before going into the theme of the title song. The nerves were making me shake so hard I thought that the bobby pins in my hair would fall out. I smiled and asked myself how many times in the course of the past five months had I heard that tune? I could have sworn my heart beat that rhythm. I stood by the door to the theatre, anxious for my cue. I heard ‘We want a picture of you coming up the gang plank.’ I headed towards the rainbow of laser lights, with my 7 angels parading behind me. As I walked towards the stage, I felt the slow decline of the floor under my feet; I had to be careful not to hit the filthy orange chairs filled with audience members that came to see me. I knew somewhere in the auditorium sat my mom, proud of her little girl that used to wear coke bottle glasses. My friends from dance school sat in those orange seats, proud of the girl that they had spent years dancing with. Some had even been in previous shows with me. Probably the most important audience members that sat in those filthy orange chairs was a representative from my dream school- Columbia College of the Performing Arts. He was there to see me, to see Reno. The three stairs that led to the stage were the hardest three steps that I ever had to climb. I was wearing my character shoes, which unfortunately have an inch and half heal. I knew I could dance in those shoes better then I could climb stairs in them. This was good, since my first song, ‘You’re the Top’ was practically as soon as I got on stage. I braced myself. I was worried my voice would be shaking like my mom, who I had spotted in the fourth row center. She was shaking for me. When I saw how nervous she was, I knew the only thing that would make her breathe for the first time since that same chord in the overture that made me start to shake, would be if I nailed this song. While Mike, who was playing Billy, sang the beginning, I began to feel less and less nervous. The nerves had transformed into excitement. I hadn’t put this much work into this role to mess up now. I sang, trying to safe my voice, while still sounding good. At the end of the song, I was worried about how the audience thought Mike and I did. I felt good about it, and when we hit that last chord, I knew Mike did too. Just because we were happy, doesn’t mean the audience thought it was good. The audience loved it, and my mom finally was able to breathe.
Saturday Night- We had finished the final of the three performances. There had been a Friday night, a Saturday matinee and a Saturday night. Each performance, I became more and more confident and morphed more and more into Reno. As the last curtain fell my adrenaline was still flowing. I turned to the other leads and felt so proud of them. They were my best friends, my family. We didn’t want this to be over. After this, we would all be separated.
At the cast party, I knew I wasn’t Reno anymore. I was Allyson again. The space in my stomach where the nerves had lived all weekend now felt empty. This show had been my life for five months. In the fall, I would leave for Chicago to be a musical theatre major at Columbia College. The theatre scout had liked me enough to give me a full dance scholarship. This was the only comforting part of the show being over.
My step- dad, Greg, had no sympathy. He had warned me at Monday’s rehearsal not to push over the pit and the tap dancers. I would have a mic for the performances. Don’t push, don’t push, don’t push Greg said over and over again. I still pushed and now I have no voice as evidence.
The news of my lost voice spread quickly around the cast like wildfire. The director kept his calm façade and said that he would figure something out. Greg, who was the vocal coach, began rehearsing the understudy incase, god forbid, she had to be used. Then my director found me in the hall, his dark brown eyes had a shine that reminded me of sparks excitingly flying from coal. He pulled me over, his hands practically jittering as if he had received a standing ovation. Or just been told that he couldn’t perform.
‘Allyson,’ he said, ‘we got the mics.’ He created an imaginary pea sized mic near his ear.
I was confused; I knew that we had been fundraising for these new, wireless mics for the 6 leads. He continued, barely giving me time to respond.
‘Well, we were only going to turn the mics on when you sing, but why don’t we just keep your mic on the entire time? That way you don’t have to strain your voice. Now get to class, I’ll see you at rehearsal!’
I almost hugged him. I was Reno. At lunch, I left school to get tea with honey. The air seemed crisper than it had when I had left for school. I called my step- dad in the car to give him the news. He was pleased, but still concerned that my voice might come back. He also reminded me how whispering would only hurt my voice more; I should continue to talk at a normal level but drink lots of tea.
Thursday- My voice came back, but it wasn’t only Greg that was scared that I would lose it again. Now that I had my voice, the nerves kicked in. Opening night loomed closer. I knew I was prepared; we had been in rehearsal for 5 months. I just wanted to not to be Allyson for 2 days, I wanted to be Reno Sweeney, the glamorous Evangelical night club singer.
Friday night- the lights in the audience went down. It was so dark, you couldn’t tell where the auditorium ended. The lights that were aimed at the stage looked like lasers in a rainbow of colors. I was in the lobby of the theatre with my seven ‘angels’ behind me, ready to make my dramatic Reno entrance. The pit played the first chord, before going into the theme of the title song. The nerves were making me shake so hard I thought that the bobby pins in my hair would fall out. I smiled and asked myself how many times in the course of the past five months had I heard that tune? I could have sworn my heart beat that rhythm. I stood by the door to the theatre, anxious for my cue. I heard ‘We want a picture of you coming up the gang plank.’ I headed towards the rainbow of laser lights, with my 7 angels parading behind me. As I walked towards the stage, I felt the slow decline of the floor under my feet; I had to be careful not to hit the filthy orange chairs filled with audience members that came to see me. I knew somewhere in the auditorium sat my mom, proud of her little girl that used to wear coke bottle glasses. My friends from dance school sat in those orange seats, proud of the girl that they had spent years dancing with. Some had even been in previous shows with me. Probably the most important audience members that sat in those filthy orange chairs was a representative from my dream school- Columbia College of the Performing Arts. He was there to see me, to see Reno. The three stairs that led to the stage were the hardest three steps that I ever had to climb. I was wearing my character shoes, which unfortunately have an inch and half heal. I knew I could dance in those shoes better then I could climb stairs in them. This was good, since my first song, ‘You’re the Top’ was practically as soon as I got on stage. I braced myself. I was worried my voice would be shaking like my mom, who I had spotted in the fourth row center. She was shaking for me. When I saw how nervous she was, I knew the only thing that would make her breathe for the first time since that same chord in the overture that made me start to shake, would be if I nailed this song. While Mike, who was playing Billy, sang the beginning, I began to feel less and less nervous. The nerves had transformed into excitement. I hadn’t put this much work into this role to mess up now. I sang, trying to safe my voice, while still sounding good. At the end of the song, I was worried about how the audience thought Mike and I did. I felt good about it, and when we hit that last chord, I knew Mike did too. Just because we were happy, doesn’t mean the audience thought it was good. The audience loved it, and my mom finally was able to breathe.
Saturday Night- We had finished the final of the three performances. There had been a Friday night, a Saturday matinee and a Saturday night. Each performance, I became more and more confident and morphed more and more into Reno. As the last curtain fell my adrenaline was still flowing. I turned to the other leads and felt so proud of them. They were my best friends, my family. We didn’t want this to be over. After this, we would all be separated.
At the cast party, I knew I wasn’t Reno anymore. I was Allyson again. The space in my stomach where the nerves had lived all weekend now felt empty. This show had been my life for five months. In the fall, I would leave for Chicago to be a musical theatre major at Columbia College. The theatre scout had liked me enough to give me a full dance scholarship. This was the only comforting part of the show being over.
Friday, October 10, 2008
WA- 2 Draft 1
Tuesday morning- I woke up after the first tech rehearsal with almost no voice. Opening night was Friday. As Reno, my voice was crucial. As a senior in high school with an ambition in musical theatre, this role was crucial to me. I had been working my entire life for this opportunity. I had been in theatre my entire life. My step- dad is the pianist for most of the musical theatre in Charlottesville, and he put me in theatre since I could dance (which was practically before I could walk). I had performed my fair share of small roles from Baby June in Gypsy to Random White Girl #3 in West Side Story. Now, curtain up, light the lights because it’s my turn. I was Reno in Anything Goes. And I had no voice.
My step- dad had no sympathy. He had warned me at rehearsal yesterday not to push over the pit and the tap dancers. I would have a mic. Don’t push, don’t push, don’t push he said over and over again. I still pushed and now I have no voice as evidence.
At school, the news of my lost voice spread quickly around the cast. Panic spread like wildfire. The director, though, remained his calm façade and said that he would figure something out. My dad, who was the vocal coach, began rehearsing the understudy incase, god forbid, she had to be used. Then my director found me in the hall, his dark brown eyes had a shine that reminded me of sparks excitingly flying from coal. He pulled me over, his hands practically jittering from excitement.
‘Allyson,’ he said, the sparks that were in his eyes were apparent in his voice as well. ‘We got the mics.’
I was confused; I knew that we had been fundraising for these new, wireless mics for the 6 leads that were about the size of a pea. He created an imaginary mic near his ear and continued,
‘Well, we were only going to turn the mics on when you sing, but why don’t we just keep your mic on the entire time? That way you don’t have to strain your voice. Now get to class, I’ll see you at rehearsal!’
I almost hugged him. I was going to be able to play Reno. At lunch, I went to get some tea with honey. The air seemed crisper than it had when I had left for school. I called my dad in the car to give him the news. He reminded me how whispering would only hurt my voice more; I should continue to talk at a normal level but drink lots of tea.
Throughout the week, I drank boatloads of tea. My voice came back, but everyone was scared that I would lose it again. I was excited that I had my voice, but now the nerves kicked in. Opening night loomed closer. I knew I was prepared; we had been in rehearsal for 5 months. I just wanted to not to be Allyson for 2 days, I wanted to be Reno Sweeney, the Evangelical night club singer.
Friday night- the lights in the audience went down. You couldn’t tell where the auditorium ended. The lights that were aimed at the stage looked like lasers in a rainbow of colors. I was in the lobby of the theatre, ready to make my dramatic Reno entrance. The pit played the first chord, before going into the theme of the title song. I smiled and asked myself how many times in the course of the past five months had I heard that famous tune? I stood by the door to the theatre, waiting impatiently for my cue. When I heard it, I opened the door and walked towards the rainbow of laser lights, with my 7 backup singers parading behind me. As I walked towards the stage, I felt the slow decline of the floor under my feet; I had to be careful not to hit the filthy orange chairs filled with viewers that came to see me. I knew somewhere in the audience my mom sat, proud of her little girl that used to where coke bottle glasses. My friends from dance school sat, proud of the girl that they had spent hours on end dancing with and singing show tunes with. Probably the most important audience members that sat in those filthy orange chairs was a representative from my dream school- Columbia College of the Performing Arts. He was there to see me, to see Reno. We had three performances, Friday night, a Saturday matinee and a Saturday night. Each performance, I became more and more confident and morphed more and more into Reno. As the last curtain fell Saturday night, my adrenaline was still flowing. I turned to the other leads and felt so proud of them. We didn’t want this to be over.
At the cast party, I knew I wasn’t Reno anymore. I was Allyson again. In the fall, I would leave for Chicago to be a musical theatre major at Columbia College for the Performing Arts on a full dance scholarship. I hope that I will have many more roles as good as Reno. My parents were concerned that I would never get a job. They had faith in my talent, but as my dad has learned, there are many talented actresses auditioning for the same few roles. Playing Reno made me realize what the most successful actresses have gone through, and I know I can handle it.
My step- dad had no sympathy. He had warned me at rehearsal yesterday not to push over the pit and the tap dancers. I would have a mic. Don’t push, don’t push, don’t push he said over and over again. I still pushed and now I have no voice as evidence.
At school, the news of my lost voice spread quickly around the cast. Panic spread like wildfire. The director, though, remained his calm façade and said that he would figure something out. My dad, who was the vocal coach, began rehearsing the understudy incase, god forbid, she had to be used. Then my director found me in the hall, his dark brown eyes had a shine that reminded me of sparks excitingly flying from coal. He pulled me over, his hands practically jittering from excitement.
‘Allyson,’ he said, the sparks that were in his eyes were apparent in his voice as well. ‘We got the mics.’
I was confused; I knew that we had been fundraising for these new, wireless mics for the 6 leads that were about the size of a pea. He created an imaginary mic near his ear and continued,
‘Well, we were only going to turn the mics on when you sing, but why don’t we just keep your mic on the entire time? That way you don’t have to strain your voice. Now get to class, I’ll see you at rehearsal!’
I almost hugged him. I was going to be able to play Reno. At lunch, I went to get some tea with honey. The air seemed crisper than it had when I had left for school. I called my dad in the car to give him the news. He reminded me how whispering would only hurt my voice more; I should continue to talk at a normal level but drink lots of tea.
Throughout the week, I drank boatloads of tea. My voice came back, but everyone was scared that I would lose it again. I was excited that I had my voice, but now the nerves kicked in. Opening night loomed closer. I knew I was prepared; we had been in rehearsal for 5 months. I just wanted to not to be Allyson for 2 days, I wanted to be Reno Sweeney, the Evangelical night club singer.
Friday night- the lights in the audience went down. You couldn’t tell where the auditorium ended. The lights that were aimed at the stage looked like lasers in a rainbow of colors. I was in the lobby of the theatre, ready to make my dramatic Reno entrance. The pit played the first chord, before going into the theme of the title song. I smiled and asked myself how many times in the course of the past five months had I heard that famous tune? I stood by the door to the theatre, waiting impatiently for my cue. When I heard it, I opened the door and walked towards the rainbow of laser lights, with my 7 backup singers parading behind me. As I walked towards the stage, I felt the slow decline of the floor under my feet; I had to be careful not to hit the filthy orange chairs filled with viewers that came to see me. I knew somewhere in the audience my mom sat, proud of her little girl that used to where coke bottle glasses. My friends from dance school sat, proud of the girl that they had spent hours on end dancing with and singing show tunes with. Probably the most important audience members that sat in those filthy orange chairs was a representative from my dream school- Columbia College of the Performing Arts. He was there to see me, to see Reno. We had three performances, Friday night, a Saturday matinee and a Saturday night. Each performance, I became more and more confident and morphed more and more into Reno. As the last curtain fell Saturday night, my adrenaline was still flowing. I turned to the other leads and felt so proud of them. We didn’t want this to be over.
At the cast party, I knew I wasn’t Reno anymore. I was Allyson again. In the fall, I would leave for Chicago to be a musical theatre major at Columbia College for the Performing Arts on a full dance scholarship. I hope that I will have many more roles as good as Reno. My parents were concerned that I would never get a job. They had faith in my talent, but as my dad has learned, there are many talented actresses auditioning for the same few roles. Playing Reno made me realize what the most successful actresses have gone through, and I know I can handle it.
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