And thus ends Banquo's soliloquy as he finally understands the full scope of what his best friend has done and is capable of doing for power, and in desperation asks why he may not hope to attain a place in history too when promises were also made to him. As anyone who has read or seen the Scottish play performed knows, Banquo does attain a place in history through his heir, Fleance, but himself is savagely murdered at Macbeth's behest shortly after delivering these lines. Tragic as they may be, I feel that they sum up my feelings on the past year. If someone else can, why not me?
When I was in the first grade, my teacher announced that we would be doing a play. Everyone would participate. The play was Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, and we would soon be assigned our roles. I don't remember fervently hoping to be cast as Snow White, but I do remember when I was, and I do remember running up the front steps to my house, bursting with excitement to tell my mom that I was the star of the show, I was Snow White! After that, I was hooked. Our class performed one play every year. Some years I had a lead role, other years I had 2 or 3 smaller roles in the same show, but every year I loved it.
When I got to high school, I joined drama right away. I auditioned for the school's fall play, Antigone, my freshman year, and got a role in the chorus. I was fine with it, it was my first play at the school and I thought that in time I would of course get better roles. This did not necessarily turn out to be true. I tended to get cast in the ensemble if there was one, and in the smaller, stranger roles (Gloria Rasputin in Bye Bye Birdie, Whore #1 in Les Mis, Mrs. Soames in Our Town). It stung a little to see my peers start to get larger roles while I was continually passed over, but I stuck with it, and I'm glad I did. I made more friends through drama than I did through anything else I did in high school. I was painfully shy and lacked self-confidence (maybe this was why I didn't such great roles), and if it had not been for drama I probably would have crawled into a hole and not socialized at all.
Then came college. When I first arrived on campus I started looking for auditions right away. Not the school's main stage productions, of course (while the auditions were open to all, it was somewhat of an unspoken rule that those were reserved for the school's acting students) but for the club shows. I quickly gave up on plays after I faced a few rejections, but did have some luck getting cast in student film and TV projects. As a Spanish major, I also got the chance to perform in a couple Spanish language plays. I will never forget one night towards the end of my sophomore year, I stepped up on stage for a tech rehearsal for one of these plays and felt the warmth of the stage lighting on my skin. I remembered it so well, but had somehow never been conscious of it before. It was one of the best feelings I have ever had to this day.
After college, my primary focus was settling into my new life living with my boyfriend, Adam, and getting a job, any job. Acting was forgotten for the time. Things progressed quickly with Adam as we fell even more in love, got engaged, and moved to Washington. Between planning our wedding and setting up a new life in a new place, it wasn't surprising that I didn't take much time for any hobbies. A couple years later, I found myself so homesick that I finally convinced Adam to move back to Massachusetts with me, and we again started the process of setting up a life in a new place.
Cut to fall of 2013, and finally feeling settled and grounded enough to start exploring a little, I resolved that I would go on a few auditions for community theater shows, just to see what would happen. To my great surprise, I got a role in the first show I auditioned for, ironically, Antigone, the first show I did in high school. Joyful and proud as I was, I knew the director had taken a chance on me. I was rusty and had chosen a very age-inappropriate monologue for my audition, plus my acting resume was blank for the past, er, 6 years. In any case, I was grateful for the opportunity to get back in the game, and took full advantage of my situation. I studied the actors in the lead roles, I soaked in their grace and poise, their articulation and their intensity. I thought to myself, I'm not there yet, but I could do that. If other people can do it, why not me?
Turned out I was right, I landed another role before Antigone had even finished its run, the role of Banquo (played as a woman), the author of the title of this post. I remember saying to one of the other actors in the show that I felt like it was a fluke that I got such a good role, but I was going to play it cool and just act natural. After that show I got cast as the lead in another, and have just learned that I will be performing in another great show in the fall. Every time I perform, in a rehearsal or in a live show with an audience, I feel myself become a little more open. I am still in the beginning stages, I think, where I discover by feeling and operate on instinct. Technique will come with time and experience, I am sure, but I know my choices get better and better. The mousy girl from high school is gone and in her place is a hungry, vivacious woman who actually has some semblance of stage presence. Being cast in certain roles has forced me to look at myself in different lights. Why shouldn't I be the lead? Why shouldn't I be the brave one, the beautiful one, the funny one, the one who has to cry? I still face frustrations and rejections (all actors do), but I am better equipped for them now. I realize that if I am not cast in something, it's not because I suck, it's because I wasn't right for the show, or at least the director's specific vision for the show. I'm okay with that. I can say, "Whatever, I'm awesome" and move on. Part of that is me getting into my late twenties and just not giving an eff anymore, but part of that is also the confidence I have gained in the past year, and that is a direct result of my return to acting.
I'll close with this - even though (on my more cynical days) I might see my involvement with theatre as a continuous cycle of running myself ragged, sacrificing any hint of free time or a social life, and having my heart ripped in two every couple months when a show is over just as I've begun to get really close with everyone, it has taught me so much about living in the moment. Performers crave the spotlight, so we feel some of our very highest highs up on stage, and sharing that with an audience and other performers is, aside from falling in love, perhaps the closest thing to magic that exists in this world. For me, this is what makes all of the work, the sacrifice, and the heartbreak worthwhile. Those heart-pumping moments when everything else falls away and you just feel totally and completely alive.
