Technically Speaking

I know what I have to say. The words are there. I just have to say them, commit to them, trust that they are right.

It's tech week, also affectionately called "hell week" by those who have lived through such a phenomenon before. The last few days before a show opens: everyone who has been learning their own choreography must become part of the larger dance. The actors, the directors, light, sound, props, set - all critical elements. Though I'm involved as an actor this time around, I'm under no illusion that my role is any more important than any other. As I learned when performing at the London Fringe Festival a few years back, without the costume, lighting and sound crew, actors would be nothing more than naked people emoting in the dark.

However, there is a certain pressure that comes with being an actor. You're the one up in front of everyone, all eyes upon you, spotlights making the sweat trickle down your make-up caked cheek. Though I've kept my hand in the theatre world through my writing and some occasional directing or teaching, it's been three years since I've appeared in a full-length production. I've become accustomed to being the name on the page, not the girl on the stage.

Learning lines seems a little more difficult than I remember. Driving home tonight, I kept thinking:

I know what I have to say. The words are there. I just have to say them, commit to them, trust that they are right.

I know the lines. I do. They're there. Yet sometimes, when I reach for them, they get away from me. I stumble over a word, get the sentiment right but the words wrong, or start to say something too early and realize I need to transpose my sentence right as it begins to come out of my mouth. I know what I'm supposed to be saying, and more importantly, I know the impact of the words. Not just the abstract impact they might have on the audience, but the concrete impact that they have on my fellow cast members, and our crew. My words are cues. Others will respond verbally, visually, or through the flick of a switch based on the words that I utter. Yes, sometimes a good team will save you when you fumble - but who wants to be the one who drops the ball?

I know what I have to say. The words are there. I just have to say them, commit to them, trust that they are right.

When talking us through a difficult stretch where we feel pulled in opposite directions, yoga instructor Jean Powers frequently says, "...and isn't that just like life?" It's tech week. Other people are counting on me, and I'm counting on them. I know what I'm supposed to do, but it still requires some thought and effort, and will not necessarily be easy... but is ultimately so deliciously rewarding.

It's tech week... and isn't that just like life?