The word means behold.
And did we live up to the name of the showcase? It certainly was a night to beheld (no, not funny?).
Whatever the case, it was a journey for me. Did I grow as an actor? Yes. Did I grow as a person? Obviously.
For my piece, I chose an excerpt from A Chorus Line, and if you’ve ever watched A Chorus Line, you’ll know that each individual dancer has a monologue to their name. I performed the piece by Valarie Clark – you know, the one that sings Dance: Ten, Looks: Three, or maybe you’d know it as Tits and Ass. Whatever the case, that’s who I was. For those few minutes on stage – that was who I was.
There were a couple of things, however, hindering me. I have to admit, and I do so blatantly – that in the end, even on the stage, I refused to completely be Val – and that’s because she’s kind of a major bitch, and I don’t want to be a bitch, or rather, I try not to be. And yet, I chose this character.
So I ask myself, then, why?
I chose her exactly for the reason I wasn’t ready to be her. I wanted to get out of my comfort zone. Perhaps I just wasn’t ready to be that out of my comfort zone – to go full on bitch mode.
It pricked when my teacher told me I didn’t have the ego to play Val. Ironically that was the moment I thought to myself: I have the fucking ego to play anyone.
But for the oddest reason, I just couldn’t translate that into Val. I lost confidence in myself. My movements were awkward – I just couldn’t step into another person like I usually did.
Until the next day, when my ankle happily decided to get itself twisted in the most horrible fashion. That caused me to be bound in a chair for my monologue, in the end, and to be completely honest, it might’ve been a blessing in disguise. Because of my injury, I was 2000% done with life, because first of all, I was resistive against my character, and now I couldn’t even try because I was in a chair.
And that helped – it really did.
There was a new kind of drive, a new intention and motivation of my character.
In the end, at the end of the night, I was disappointed I couldn’t keep myself together just for those few minutes to be someone else. I really am. I still am, rather. But there’s a learning point, I guess. It’s something I’m still trying to work on – to live without regrets. I just need to keep trying.
I’m still on my way to becoming a great actor. And I’m not even good yet. Stanislavski – I will heed your words more carefully next time. I promise.