Simply put, random onstage thoughts are the enemy. Any pondering that takes you out of the present while performing tends to do more harm than good; being in the moment aids each actor in reacting to the action of the scene. That said, these stray seeds of distraction are unavoidable, and since I’ve noticed a pattern in my own random stage thoughts, I thought a further examination seemed in order (of course I had this contemplation in the middle of a scene). If you’ve spent any time in front of an audience, perhaps you can relate …
Oh my God, did I turn my ringer off?
For me, this has been a classic onstage question since college, when I was doing Steel Magnolias in a small black-box theater. All that separated my cell phone from the audience was my Jansport backpack and a heavy curtain. I immediately flipped out and envisioned it ringing at that very moment. I’d ruin the vital curtain speech, my professors would be incredibly disappointed in my theater etiquette, and clearly, I’d then be kicked out of school …. So, as I was about to go onstage, I sent a teching underclassman to find the phone and turn it off. Since that panic-stricken moment, it doesn’t matter if my phone is five rooms away or already turned off, my mental check list before going onstage is “Oh my God, did I turn my ringer off?” I think about it numerous times a night.
Oh no, I have to go to the bathroom …
Inevitably, with the amount of water we down in a night, this one creeps up on us all. I always make the trip to the bathroom at half hour and intermission (whether I need to or not). But there’s something about being onstage and knowing that you can’t “go” that makes you have to even more.
No one is saying anything — is it myline?
… No, I don’t speak for another half a page. No one’s spoken yet; what should I say? What happens in this scene? Crap. I’m gonna say something, “Well —" Oh, thank God, he said his line. What the hell was he doing that he forgot it? And now he’s smirking. Crap, don’t you smirk too. Think about your objective. Don’t smile. Don’t smile. Shit. Maybe people won’t think I’m smiling. I’m sure it could just look like I am very interested. Get it together. Focus. Why is no one saying anything? Is it my line? Shit. Yes!
Why oh why did I have that pizza? (damned if I do … )
Yes, sometimes we give in to temptation. There’s a pizza sitting in the green room and a slice is not gonna hurt anything. In fact, it might be good for you, because you really didn’t eat much for dinner, and it’ll give you energy. Until 30 minutes later, when you are tap dancing onstage, and the pizza is bouncing around more than your boobs.
Crap. I’m hungry. (damned if I don’t … )
I HATE being hungry and having to be onstage. If you are like me, then you also don’t like to eat right before a show. And Lord knows, sometimes shows can last three hours, and at some point, your body is telling you it’s time for a meal. You’ve got something stashed at your dressing area for afterward, and it’s taunting you worse than the possibility of your cell phone ringing loudly at any moment. Fortunately, performance adrenaline can chase away those hunger pangs for a little bit, but you know it will be back, and there’s not much you can do about it. Except eat.
Did I remember to put on my dance trunks?
I think this one is fairly universal, though it might take different forms. We all have a fear of exposing ourselves in some way. For men, they wonder if they remembered to zip their fly. For women, it’s whether we put on dance pants under a dress. The last thing you want to think about while you are in character is whether or not you are showing too much. Not to mention, with tights and lots of layers on, you really can’t feel whether or not you are wearing that crucial covering.
My prop. OMG, I FORGOT MY PROP! Wait, that was yesterday. I think I set it today. God, please let it be set.
There is nothing worse than doing a scene that revolves around a prop, say a telegram, and forgetting to preset it. More often than not, this pivotal responsibility rests squarely on your shoulders. Sure, if you forget the telegram you could pretend it’s just smaller than the palm of your hand and you can stare at your own palm while you read the message aloud. And yet somehow you know the audience (and your onstage actors) are not quite buying it.
You are terrible at this.
Our insecurities. They are a much deeper enemy than some random thoughts. They are the demons inside your mind telling you that you aren’t good enough. It’s that part of you that only hears your faults, remembers your fears, preys on your anxieties and taunts you. It thinks you were miscast, it points out all the people who are better than you, and it shows up when you want it least. But to look at the bright side, our demons are what make us work harder at perfecting our craft when other people would have left good enough alone.
There could be someone in the audience falling in love with me right now.
It’s that connection we all feel with the hundreds of people who have paid to stare at us all night. As we act in service of the script or sing a heartfelt ballad, we hope that somehow we are having an effect on at least one person (Except that asshole in the front row sleeping. Perhaps you can kick him when you go down left).
What show are we doing?
I don’t care if you are Sir Patrick Stewart or Sutton Foster, it’s that moment when you are dressed and ready to go, you’ve just walked onstage, perhaps thinking about your phone ringing in the wings, the lights are on you, and you just need that fraction of a second to remember “What show are we doing?”
I’m sure I’ve overlooked some crucial common onstage thoughts, so please share in the comments below some other thoughts you find yourself pondering onstage.
