“Assassins”, A Debrief
The end of a run of a show is a bit like a death. I don’t mean that flippantly or without reverence. (I lived through the death of both of my parents, I know true death.) You fall in love with this new and unexpected person and the world they exist in working their problems and trials. You become intimately intertwined in this human pouring soul and heart into bringing them to life. And then, always before you are ready, they are gone. They cease to exist in the world after thriving and exploding into the world just hours before. It is a jarring transition. Not only do you lose this person you have become but also the family and community that you have crafted around them. You spend every day with these people for weeks, even months at a time and then, all of a sudden, they are all gone. Without a trace. But, of you are lucky, around the corner, there is yet another family to join, in another universe and personage to create.
Every one of us performers lost something during the pandemic. Not only the opportunity to be on a stage with the energy of an audience feeding into us but the security that theatre would ever happen again. It was over two and half years when I found that possibility again. It shone like a gold nugget of being. After being offstage for what felt like an age, “Assassins” plopped into my lap and what a joy it was. As the process progressed, I found myself fitting gin and becoming more and more important to the show. I was made Assistant Director and even did some of the stage management work when we lost that person. I certainly was in demand over the course pf the rehearsals. It was like theatre ambrosia. But it was no easy process. Not only was I finding my way back to theatre, but theatre is finding its way back to theatre.
I think that the last update that I shared about “Assassins” I had just been made the Assistant Director. I had not yet delved into the role but was ready to get my feet all wet with the responsibility. Hillary (the director) and I sat down, and I very earnestly asked her how I could help, what I could do. I was told that she was having trouble with the opening, the finale and a couple more of the big numbers along the way. I took on the challenge. I spent many, many nights sitting in my window seat with each of the songs playing on repeat in my ear and trying to envision all of our cast members moving across the stage in patterns and formations. Sometimes, the ideas swiftly and smoothly flowed out of that, and the numbers were staged with no trouble. The rehearsal that we had when I brought my ideas for the opening number was the first that felt like joful collaboration. It was easy and natural, and we created a wonderful introductory number to welcome the audience into our show with. In other cases, my ideas needed actual visuals for me to conceptualize them. In one such case I blocked the different formations using a rubber duck, a mini brachiosaur, a tiny wooden stop sign, and a Lego figure. Not the ideal but it worked, and I was able to bring my vision to life with the actors knowing that each stage picture worked.
However, it was not all sunshine and creative roses. There were challenges that I ran into in the process of directing. One of my biggest downfalls was trying to adapt on the spot when one of my ideas didn’t work. I have always had a tendency towards pretty major imposter syndrome across the board in life. And this case was no different. I very much enjoy directing and feel pretty darn good about the shows that I have produced but in the grand scheme of things I am very new to it. I don’t have the experience that I do in singing or acting. I am still finding my way through the process and gaining the skills to become truly proficient at it. Cue the imposter syndrome. The “Assassins” cast was full of truly talented actors and technicians all of whom were new to me and my talents. Somehow, I had convinced them that I was experienced enough to be trusted with this position and I really, really didn’t want to fail them. I had also watched everyone’s reactions when things hadn’t worked along the way. When I brought ideas in that didn’t go as smoothly as others, I became paralyzed with the fear of completely failing everyone. It also felt like, sometimes, that the responsibility for the number or rehearsal was completely on my shoulders and there was no back up. Which was, to say the least, terrifying. I would spiral into my fear instantly and lose my ability to think on the spot. Certainly not the way to be in a position of leadership of a group of creators.
The other struggle I found myself having stepped into this role was, I lost a degree of my own creation. Meaning that my focus on the rile I had been cast in got forgotten along the way. I was grateful that I had had the time to focus on Sara Jane for weeks before I took on the directorial role. At least I laid down the groundwork for her to grow out of. But as I took on more and more responsibilities on the production side of the show, she was left in the dark. Beyond crafting the large numbers and solving snafus that came along the way in other songs, I began to step into stage management and created the scene shift plot. This went through scene by scene and assigned the movement of each piece of furniture and other items that allowed the change of one scene to another to specific people. Not only did I create this document but I also created and personalized and specific plot to each person involved in the show highlighting all of their jobs. Our rehearsal process was rife with absent actors and because I had staged the numbers, I ended up standing in for and walking multiple tracks during songs, rehearsals, and run throughs. During our designer run, I not only stood in for three other actors but did all of the previously assigned scene changes all on my own. I was exhausted. And had not been given the opportunity to work my own character’s track. The blur of my abilities, willingness to fill in the gaps, and my own work to bring a character to life became messy and overwhelming. But I forged ahead to fulfill all of my obligations.
This show ran into every hiccup one could possibly think of. We began the process without a full cast. New member of the cast filtered in across the rehearsals. We lost a cast member and had to substitute with an actor who couldn’t join us until less than two weeks before it opened. The scheduling was a mess and we had maybe five full cast rehearsals. We lost our stage manager. We teched the show until three days beforehand. And on and on. Yet, despite all of these challenges, we managed to pull it all together and created a fantastic show. We successfully performed all six\x of our scheduled dates, despite the threat of COVID and received standing ovations after each. I stood on stage and embodied a wacky, complicated exceptionally fun character. I got to discovered comedic bits and sign fantastic harmonies. I was able to come in at a very difficult time and craft beautiful pictures and guide other people to discoveries and revelations. My best friends traveled across the country to see me. To support me in my world. I made new friends and found a place where my voice and expertise are very wanted and will be used. I am so grateful for all of the things I did. All of the stress that I survived. And I would do it all again in a split second. And I hope that I get to do it all again so soon. My soul has been awakened and fed. Theatre has not disappeared. It just needed a little time and flexibility.
