Part of the reason I couldn’t manage to write a post in May was because I was busy every single week night in rehearsals for a local play. This opportunity was new and exciting and involved performing for three long weekends in June, so I’ve barely had a chance to reflect on it. So, in a very messy way, here are some things I’m left thinking about:
1. Okay, I’ll Admit It: Theatre is Tiring
I’ve always looked forward to rehearsals, even after a school day. I’d listen to a classmate stress about having yet another night of practice and think, “If you don’t want to be in the show, I’ll gladly do it!”
But performing after a full work day is a different animal. I feel a little guilty for writing this, worried that it will make me sound ungrateful for the experience. But I think it’s healthy to remember that you can both love something and be drained by it. Pretending that it’s not tiring to leave the theatre at 10 p.m. on a Wednesday with sore feet and get up for work the next day doesn’t make you a more joyful performer; it just makes you in denial. I loved making the audience laugh, and I loved being able to work with a talented group of people, and also, I am relieved to be able to get home from work and collapse on the couch this month, as God intended.
2. The Challenge of the Staring Eyeball
If you’ll recall my first ever post here, you may have noticed that sustained eye contact is one of my many foes. I used to get corrected in acting classes for dropping my eyes during intense moments or struggling to stare at someone’s pupils. Maintaining eye contact required constant concentration, usually at the cost of understanding a word the other person was saying.
Then I started on an anti-anxiety medication in December, and eye contact abruptly became a little easier.
After the first week of rehearsals, I marveled to my mom that being able to look around and share a moment with the other actors made the scenes feel organic in a new way–I didn’t have to anticipate the oncoming emotions in each scene, I could just look at another character and watch the moment unfold or automatically react to their expression. This is partly due to working with a talented cast that’s present and reactive, but also partly due to the ability to withstand eye contact for longer than one second. In many ways, this was an exciting development. At the same time, part of what made this discovery possible was the fact that our show allowed room for distracted characters who spoke while looking in the opposite direction and emotional beats that could play out without a staring contest. Having the freedom to look away made it easier to share those moments.
Which brings me to…
3. What Is “Natural”?
In theatre, there is an emphasis on behaving naturally, never looking too stiff or performative. However, this advice was always a little challenging for me. After being told that I can appear accidentally standoffish throughout my childhood, I’ve gotten used to monitoring my facial expressions in daily interactions to make sure my face reads as “friendly” and “listening” and “amused,” matching what I’m feeling inside. But this can be an issue in theatre, because my “natural” state can already feel like a performance. It’s challenging to express joy or sympathy onstage when your default habit is checking whether your eyebrows are expressing intrigue or ennui.
As I’ve continued onstage, I’ve gotten better at being “natural.” Part of it is due to becoming genuinely more confident and expressive in my daily life, and part of it is continuing to practice letting my guard down and seeing what emerges. But while I’m glad to be learning these things, I can’t help but wish there were more room for the ways people’s bodies and faces actually behave in a scene. It’s important to be intentional with how you move and speak onstage, but so often there is an expectation that “natural” behavior fits into a certain box, with only certain gestures and expressions allowed.
In my senior year of college, we had a speaker come and present her work teaching acting to folks who were neurodivergent in some way, discussing how theatre can be a space to explore social interactions and public speaking in a safe environment. I remember asking, at what point is someone allowed to speak in their natural cadence or use their natural body language? Where is the line between teaching performers to behave with confidence and ease and changing our definition of what those things look like?
This is less a reflection on this particular play and more a continued reflection on what acting asks of us and how it could evolve.
4. And now, for something a little more show specific:
This show was fun and exhausting and illuminating. It was the longest run I’d ever done, and it was exactly the kind of character I love playing: someone who gets to be ridiculous and goofy while still feeling grounded in reality. Being in a show about a kooky, eccentric family after growing up in one was probably why this show felt like a chance to merge my real self with performance in a new way.
I deal with a lot of insecurity when it comes to shows, often wondering if I’ll get another opportunity to perform after one ends. But performing a comedic role after months of trying out comedy independently of theatre was a rewarding process. I am trying to tie less of my self worth to whether I get picked for a show and remember that there are other ways to perform.
Here’s to whatever comes next.
Hannah McNulty graduated from Calvin in 2021 and stuck around Grand Rapids, against all odds. She has spent her last few years singing in choir, teaching herself to love reading again, and trying to learn every fiber art simultaneously. She currently works at Eerdmans Publishing, where you can find her burying her nose in old paperwork and forcing anyone within earshot to listen to her bad puns.
