Divisions and Precisions

Broadway Baby

I've been mulling over an entry on how to survive unemployment. That may come later. Tonight I came to what is, at this moment, an even more pressing entry. I have a love-hate relationship with Broadway. I adore musical theatre. I have, from the first time I remember ever seeing my first musical. You'd figure I'd remember what that was, right? I have no idea. I remember being exposed to cast albums from Annie and Jesus Christ Superstar. Around the time we got cable, I used to watch Showtime all the time watching for any musical they'd show -- which actually means the first musical I ever saw was probably either Pippin or Sweeney Todd. God that explains a lot.

Anyway, the showbiz bug bit me early. Those musicals were what fueled my desire to sing. I never really wanted to be a rock star (aside from a brief span around age eleven where I lip-synched to Pat Benatar in my bedroom for hours at a time). I wanted to play Miss Hannigan in Annie. I wanted to play Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd. I wanted to find out what the heck Jesus Christ Superstar was all about.

When I got into drama in high school, I enjoyed working on all of the scenes we did (although again, I had what my classmates considered weird tastes -- if the teacher let us pick our scenes, I'd dive into Shakespeare first). But still, deep in my heart, I wanted to be in a musical. I think the first one I was actually in was a community theatre production of South Pacific, where blue-eyed, pale-skinned me was cast as a Pacific Islander. I learned the wonder and horror that is full-body greasepaint. Alas, it wasn't until my junior year that I was actually cast in a high school production, in the chorus of Hello, Dolly!.

It wasn't until three years later (and after another run in a Hello, Dolly! chorus) that I actually got to play a major role in a musical. At that point I was a college sophomore, and a music major. I was realistic enough to realize that I didn't have the talent or the determination to make it on Broadway, but I wanted to at least teach.

But I digress. Tonight I watched "The Best of Broadway" on Bravo, where basically a bunch of people just sing songs from different shows. I love these shows, and I hate them. I watch them, I sing along, I smile a lot. And then for absolutely no apparent reason, I cry. It's tough to explain why watching an absolutely hysterical performance of "Do You Love Me?" from Fiddler on the Roof (Shawn Colvin and Harvey Fierstein, only Fierstein is playing Golde, not Tevye: "I'm your wife!"), why this hysterically funny performance makes me cry even while I'm laughing.

It leaves me feeling unsettled and happy. Fidgety. I miss performing. I miss it, but I don't really feel like it has a place in my life as it is now -- aside from the occasional daydream while singing in the car. But when I watch other people performing, and I watch how much they love performing, it chokes me up.

Yeah, don't even ask what "What I Did for Love" did to me. Sent me straight to the chocolate chip cookies. I'm not proud.

(In case I don't get to the unemployment entry any time soon, rest assured that unemployment has been positively blissful so far. Aside from tonight's lapse of the Broadway blues.)

Posted by Lisa at June 9, 2002 10:33 PM