I have a music-theater-performance-itch in me. I've had it all my life. I have very early memories of twirling around the living room with my sisters singing and dancing as my mom or dad played the piano. As we got a little older, my sisters and I would do plays and ballets and other performances for my parents. We would make costumes and props and would rehearse and perform.
And once, a man in our Stake did a little summer music camp, and I got to be the Mayor's daughter, "Carrie Anne" in Davey Crockett. My mom made my costume, and I wore a yellow wig because of the song "Yeller Gold" which was all about my hair. (Being in this play is what later inspired me to start Children's Music Theater which is in its 7th year this summer!)
We'd rock out to Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserables, and Secret Garden on long road trips. And I loved it and dreamed of being "Cosette" or "Christine" or "Lilly" on a real stage in front of a real audience.
As I got older, I still had all those dreams. But unfortunately, my High School didn't really have a Music Theater program. I would go see my friends at other high schools doing great shows in nice performing spaces with good lighting and sound and I was super jealous.
My high school did two musicals while I was there, and that is because I asked the choir teacher if we could, so the choir teacher, the band teacher and the drama teacher put their heads together and gave it a try. (Bless their hearts.) (Our drama department was so small, they did their performances on risers in the drama classroom.) We did Wizard of Oz, and You're a Good Man Charlie Brown. I played "Dorothy" and "Lucy". And my mom made my costumes. I got to hold a real little dog for most of Wizard of Oz. My arm got a little tired, but he sure was cute. And in Charlie Brown, I got to yell and be a bossy, opinionated brat. :) And some of my favorite people were in the show with me. Windy Dougall as Woodstock, David Wells as Linus, and Natalie Stone (MY SISTER!) as Snoopy. Those were some good times.
We didn't have a dedicated performance space. Years before I got there, they turned the "Auditorium" into a second gym. That's right. We already had one. And they turned our performance venue into a second gym. Or maybe they turned the auditorium into a gym, and then built a new gym. I don't know the order. I just know that we had two gyms and no performance venue. And that was lame. The stage was still there, though, old and horrible and abused, but it was there. The curtain was in tatters--I think they ordered a new one for the first musical we did. And the air conditioning didn't work, so it was sweltering in there. The audience got to sit in folding chairs on the floor of the gym.
So my High School performance opportunities were a little bit lacking. Fine, whatever, I would go to college and knock the socks off everyone and get to perform on a real stage and be awesome! Well, I got to BYU and as a lot of BYU freshmen realize, wasn't as big of a sensation as I'd imagined because everybody else was just as sensational.
The only show I did in college was not at BYU. It was Steel Magnolias the first play to premier at Springville's Little Brown Theater. I played "Shelby." I couldn't believe I'd gotten the part because it was a straight play (no music) and my voice had mostly gotten me the parts I'd played previously, so it was shocking to me to get a part in a play where I didn't sing. I'd tried out on a whim mostly just wanting audition experience so when a part came up that I DID want, I'd be better prepared to get it.
Arthur and I were newly weds, with one car and no children yet. Arthur was really supportive and gave up the car most nights in January and February so I could drive our car from Orem down to Springville for all the rehearsing. I got to be Shelby, the diabetic, who had a seizure in Scene 2 while trying to drink orange juice. The entire play takes place in a beauty parlor, so I got a really short haircut for the show, AND I got bonafide manicures every performance. (The director was also the owner of a beauty salon!)
One performance, someone had forgotten to turn on the wax melter in time, so while the cast was getting make-up and hair done, Arthur stood over the wax with a blow dryer trying to melt it so it would be ready for scene three when I got my nightly manicure. He sacrificed a pair of pants for me that night, since the melting wax got splatters all over the bottom of his pants and we couldn't get it out.
Anyway, it was super fun and a little stressful too. But mostly fun.
After that, we just got busy with school, and started having children and I started to learn the sad truth that there's just not enough time for me to do everything in my life that I want to do! Why do I want to do so much stuff, dang it?
A few years later, we were living in Ithaca, NY where Arthur was getting his Master's at Cornell. Dallin was 3 and Daphne was 1 and one day I saw an talent call in the paper for The King and I produced by a community theater in a neighboring town. I say neighboring, but out there in upstate New York, that was 45 minutes away along dark little country roads. When I drove out to auditions, it was pouring rain and I ran over more than a few frogs. My windshield wipers were going very fast, and I was leaning forward in my seat trying to see the lines in the road. And because Arthur was ALWAYS at school, a kind family was watching Dallin and Daphne for me while I drove out for my audition. I did a good job. And I got a call back.
Arthur wasn't completely on board, and I admit, I felt a little uncomfortable about it, but I wanted it so badly, that I pressed forward and went to the call back anyway. I wasn't sure what we would do with the kids while I had rehearsals because Arthur was in school, and wouldn't be able to help. But I figured somehow things would work out. I wanted to be "Anna" and wear those big beautiful dresses and sing, "Getting to Know You" and "Whistle a Happy Tune."
I nailed the call-backs. I was by far the best candidate, (in my not-so-humble-opinion) and had great report with the guy I was pretty sure they'd be casting as the King. But as I drove home I just had a nagging feeling that wouldn't go away. And all night it stayed and the next day too, and deep inside I knew it wasn't the right time for me to do this play. I resisted, and resisted, until I felt physically sick to my stomach, and then finally while I was crying in the shower, I told Heavenly Father I would give it up. And immediately a calm washed over me and I knew it was the right decision. For whatever reason, I was not supposed to be in that play. So I called the director and apologized for wasting their time, but my circumstances would not allow me to participate. I cried on the phone while talking to my mom about it, and she cried too and said that there would be another time--when Arthur wasn't in school and I didn't have to drive on dark little country lanes through bad weather and we could afford baby-sitters to help with the kids. There would come another time, and another show.
Two children and five-ish years later, I tried out for Secret Garden. I already posted about that, so I won't go into that story again, but after a mild amount of drama, I weaseled my way into that cast and played "Martha." It was super fun, and super stressful, but I'm glad I did it.
Something I learned from that experience, and other auditions here in ABQ, is that it's hard to get a lead with my limited experience. And the problem is, my time is divided such that its very hard to justify taking smaller roles to build up my resume and thereby increase my chances at getting the roles I really want.
So most of the time, I keep this whole performance itch tapped because it's tricky performing and being a mother of a large family. (Or any family, really.) It was tricky doing Secret Garden with four children at home who were needing everything kids need at dinner/bedtime.
But once in awhile a show is listed that I can't resist. And wouldn't you know, two more children and five-ish years later, I discovered that Landmark Musicals is producing The Sound of Music in July of 2014. I have dreamed of playing "Maria" in that show since I was little. So when I saw it listed in their season, I knew I had to try out. However, Maria is a HUGE role, and I knew I would never be considered if I didn't have more experience and some exposure with this theater company. Well, Fiddler on the Roof was the show they were producing just before Sound of Music, so I thought, "Daphne and I should try out!" Which we did.
And we did good, and we got called back. And I made them laugh with my story about my sisters and I acting out the dream part where Fruma Sarah was screeching about her pearls, PEARLS, PEARLS!!!! And we both were offered roles. Daphne was offered the role of the youngest daughter of Tevye and Golde, and I was offered a villager named . . . gosh I can't remember her name. But she did have a name, so that's something. They also asked if one of my boys (I told them I had four) could be a little boy at the end of the play with no lines, and just a small appearance. They liked Sean best (right age/look, I guess) so the three of us had this chance to be in a show together. My role was pretty small, but I accepted the roles, thinking it would be fun to do a show with Daphne and Sean, and it would hopefully get me some exposure so I'd have a better shot at getting Maria.
But after thinking things through and discussing things with Arthur and some friends, I started to wonder if I'd made the right choice. The role I'd been offered wouldn't really get me any exposure, per se, although it would give the company a look at my work ethic. And Arthur commented that it was a very big sacrifice for our family to make for a fairly insignificant role. He's happy to support me in this itch of mine but, I agree with him, it's asking quite a lot for a chorus role. Additionally, if I did Fiddler, and then actually got the part of Maria, that would be 6 months of pretty high stress in our family. To be honest, I don't know if we could handle two shows in a row. So I spoke with the director and producer about things and explained my predicament.
And in the end, I gave up the roles. Those last five words don't take long to write, but this decision was every bit as painstaking for me as the King and I decision. Lots of tears, lots of prayers; more tears, despair and wondering why God put this desire in me if I couldn't use it? I will always choose my family first. Always. But I wish it wasn't such a struggle for me. I wish I didn't have this desire to be on stage when its a hobby that is so difficult to make time for as a wife and mother.
As of now, my plan is still to try out for "Maria" in April. Because its a dream of mine. I want my children to reach for their dreams, and I want to reach for mine as well. (It should be okay for a mom to have dreams, right?) I don't really have any hope that I will get the part because my resume isn't beefy enough. But I'll take Dallin and Daphne and try out and see what happens. And pray for the courage to accept the outcome.
If I make it, then hurray! My performance itch will be satiated for another five-ish years. And if not, then we'll have more time this summer for our family vacation. And that will be fun. And probably more meaningful. (And I'll probably wonder what would have happened had I taken the Fiddler roles, and probably wish that I had because then at least I could have been in one show with two of my kids, instead of no show with none of my kids.)
Whatever. As you can see, I'm still conflicted. How I wish I wasn't conflicted. How I wish something I loved didn't conflict so much with my most important priority. But I will always choose my family first. Always. And I guess every five-ish years, I'll try to squeeze a different dream in the middle of my more important dream. And sometimes it will work and I'll get to live two dreams at once for a few stressful months. And sometimes it won't work out, and I'll just remember which dream is actually better, and lasting and just keep enjoying them. Because for all my spotlight-longing, I would never choose it over these people.
And that's officially more than you wanted to know about me and my music-theater itch.
