Professor Sham's favorite thing to say about theatre is that you need to be the character. He tells us that we are not supposed to act because that is being a horrible, even wretched, actor. Anyone, he says, can get up on a stage and force what they would do on a character. Real theatre happens when you toss aside who you are, who you have been, and who you will be and simply exist in the moment.
I suppose that's how I ended up on a stage in front of my class lip syncing to "The Winner Takes It All" from Mama Mia.
About a week ago he went off on one of his "acting versus being" tangents, and then gave us all a wicked grin. "In a week, class, you are going to be a lip sync. You will stand in front of the class and convince us that that, up on the stage, is a real person and that the voice is coming from you."
I was horrified. How was I supposed to do that? Oh, sure, I understand the entire thing about being; I've had to let go of who I was many times in the past. But to make it seem like, down to the very breath, I was someone else? That was going to be tricky.
Most of the next week was spent searching for a song, my worry growing with each day as I failed to come up with an idea. And then the coughing started. Beth, one of my housemates, had brought home a cold from the hospital. "Well," I thought to myself when I lost my voice, "at least I would be able to sing along and not be heard."
I stood in front of the class, the first few strains of the music cutting through the air as I tried not to look too nervous. But I couldn't seem to focus. And then the words started. Seconds passed as I mouthed along, throwing my body into the act as well as I could (considering how angry my kidneys are being). I made sure to breathe and do my best with being in line with the words. And then it was over. Just like that. There was a pause as the class considered me, and then came the murmured, "She was out." Out of character.
Or rather, that's how it would have been if I had gotten the chance to perform today.