Who am I anyway?
To seek a life
Enchanted
Lovely
Full of song and dance
And music
To share stories
Desire the positive
And inspirational
And surround myself with
Like minds
And minds that challenge
Who am I to stand before a group of students
And tell them
"What I know"

Here is the secret...

I know nothing

And it is humbling
And funny
All at once

The end.

You slog uphill
Drill notes
Please memorize
Count
Project! 
Energize to the end of the line
Trying to get a long and tricky piece together
With limited rehearsal
And you think it could never come together
Was it this hard last year?
You just about give up
And then suddenly
"Suddenly"
The day before the show
There it is!
Harmonies rich and full
Soaring and lovely

And before you even realize it
The performance is over
And the relief
The weight off your shoulders
The view of
The shining happy faces of kids who have felt the spotlight
Known what it is to rehearse
And stand before other people
And sing/dance/act/play
(Often at the same time!)
Is worth
The uphill climb it took
To get there

The end.

I didn't allow myself to get excited
Her reputation
Precedes her
Canceling, forgetting lyrics, swallowing words
But tonight
In her signature sparkling black top
That shimmered and reflected light
And almost seemed to be electricfied
Liza Minnelli
Was radiant

Her speaking voice
Is not just breathy
It's breathless
She seems barely able to string a sentence together
And then she sings
Sure the top notes aren't quite there anymore
But the richness in her voice
The undeniable "Liza" tone
The timbre so full
So present
It's phenomenal

They talk of
Living legends
And truly
She is one

In just under two weeks
This living legend will be 67
She's frailer than she used to be
Apologized for sitting for much of the concert
But the audience didn't mind
When she sang, honestly
Magic happened
She seemed somehow younger
The way she can tell a story through song
Transport you worlds away
With her voice
The simplest gesture
The audience erupted after
Every single number
And the applause wasn't gratuitous

In the same way that her mother
Never escaped the rainbow
Liza will never escape the cabaret
But you get the sense
She's happiest there
It's where she grew up
It's where her family,
Literal and accumulated,
Come from
And her gratitude to the audience
Felt genuine and real

The final encore
Every single person was already on their feet
And it was just
Liza in a spotlight
Singing acapella
The hush that fell over the crowd
Oh, that voice!
And right before the final note
A whispered
Thank you
And the audience melted
Audibly gasped
And we cheered in response
And Liza bowed
And walked into the wings

The end.

I first saw A Chorus Line when I was ten years old. It was the first musical I ever saw live. We had a spare ticket and I remember standing outside the theatre with Mum trying to give the ticket away. We ended up giving it to a lovely lady who had to find a pay phone to tell someone at home she would be late. The next thing I remember is sitting in the theatre, the lady offering me some chocolate, and then the theatre going pitch black. I grabbed Mum's hand because I was scared. The opening refrain, the mirrors shimmering into view, and then, "A 5-6-7-8!" I was transfixed, transported, and utterly sure of what I wanted to do when I grew up.

How does a ten year old from Sydney's leafy North Shore resonate with a musical about struggling dancers in New York? What was it that grabbed me? The swearing and many of the stories went way over my head. I liked Diana. I liked her because the girl playing her had been my Mum's student. I also liked her because she had a good monologue, and because I too was not genetically disposed toward bobsleds. I liked the "tits and ass" girl because she was blunt and straight forward and no nonsense, (Years later I was walking down Park Ave in NYC, and the line "Park and 73rd" kept ringing in my ears, and it cracked me up when I realized where it was from. Is the Good Doctor still working to take flat chested dancers from chorus girl to star? How does my feminist grown-up self feel about that character now?). I also liked "the ballet song" because I was doing ballet then, and when they sang it, I knew the smell of the rehearsal room, the feel of the barre, the narrow stairway, yes everything was beautiful at the ballet (even though I personally struggled because I didn't pick up choreography quickly, and though graceful "with lovely ballet hands" I was somewhat uncoordinated and awkward, no it wasn't paradise...). And I got it. I even used to dance around the living room. I also related to the tales of broken homes and divorced parents and escaping to ballet/performance as a means out. 

And as I grew up and listened, and re-listened, and listened again, to the cassette of the cast recording, the music changed and meant different things. Suddenly I was twelve, and thirteen, and unsure. Still, I knew I wanted to be a performer. I had the drama teacher that made me feel "nothing". I was short. I had no boobs. I actually lived the knee injury bit. Had a doctor tell me I would never dance again. What happens when you can't perform anymore? You crawl into a ball and suffer through depression for two years, and don't come out until you start performing again. 

And then I wanted to get married and live in the 'burbs and have a stable life. And then the stupid boy broke my heart, and changed my life because I was so mad at him, and so heartbroken that I had no choice but to pursue my original dream. While training I saw Donna McKechnie perform live, the woman whose voice I had listened to a million times. Give me somebody to dance for! The woman is in her seventies and she's still got it. I saw Marvin Hamlisch (may he be resting in musical theatre heaven) conduct the London Symphony Orchestra playing a medley of songs from A Chorus Line. And I gave up everything I ever knew to move across the world to study at a crazily expensive school, have my self-esteem torn to shreds, and be told I should "reconsider" this career choice. But you have this little persistent voice inside your head that says I DON'T WANT TO AND CAN'T DO ANYTHING ELSE. THIS. IS. IT. And sometimes you just have to ignore the naysayers and the statistics and the struggle that is auditioning and putting yourself out there and honing your craft and praying "Oh, god I need this job!" Not just for money, but for my soul. 

So it's no secret that I'm emotionally invested in this show. For me, A Chorus Line is THE show. It's the reason I became a performer. It's the reason I'm obsessed with musical theatre. It's the inspiration that keeps me going. And tonight, seeing it performed to almost utter perfection in London was astonishingly wonderful, inspiring, and uplifting. 

The end. 

Tonight
I was selling programs
And a woman came up to me
And said
"Are you an actor?
You have a lovely theatre voice."
To which I laughed
In reply
And said
"Just about every usher
In the West End
Is an actor!"
And she laughed too
And we had a little conversation
And as she departed,

Program in hand,
She smiled and said
"Well, good luck,
I'm sure you'll get work in no time."
And it truly made my day
To have a random stranger
Say something nice
Say something confidence boosting
To remind me
Why I'm here in the first place

The end.

If you had told me
Three years ago
Sitting in my lounge room
In suburban Sydney
That I would three years later
Be sitting
with the host and creator of MusicalTalk
In London
Singing a new song
For a new musical
And recording tracks for my agent
I would have laughed
And said
"That's cool...
I want to be her."

The end.

In the morning I went to an audition
And then I went to work
In the West End
And did the double show day
And it was long
And I came home absolutely shattered
But I realized
I'm living the dream!
I'm an actor in London
And it is hilarious.

The end.

At work
An actress whom I daily admire
Said to me
“Every time I see you, I think of a young Liza”
And it thrilled me 
Because to be told you look like one of your heroes 
Is
Well, thrilling
 
Now I know 
That just looking like one of your heroes 
Doesn’t make you like
One of your heroes
Looks do not give you 
A phenomenal belt
Or amazing dance skills
Or a guaranteed career
 
But it does
Boost one’s confidence
And tells you to keep going
 
When I cut off all my hair
“Pixie” cut
I never intended to look like Liza
I cut it off
Because I wanted to
And, honestly,
It was one of the most liberating days of my life 
 
I’m keeping my hair short 
Because it’s me
And that’s the person
Who I most want to be 
When I grow up
 
The end. 

There is something comforting in the fact
That every day
A show is being performed
The people are singing
Masquerades are on parade
Children are revolting
 
Somewhere around the world
The story of a boy band is being told
In neat
Introduction, climax, denouement form
With feel good songs
And slick choreography 
 
Every day
The performers are singing and dancing
The costumers re-hanging shirts and wigs and dresses
The stage hands striking and re-setting props 
And getting ready to do it all again
 
No show is ever the same twice
The audience is always different
Sometimes a line is dropped
A prop forgotten
The cast slightly shuffled
 
And every day
There is someone in the audience
Watching it all for the first time
Laughing, sighing, gasping
And walking out of the theatre
Feeling happier
Feeling uplifted 
 
And I get to meet that someone 
Eight times a week
And I get to watch it all
Eight times a week
And feel comforted that 
Every day a show is being performed. 
 
The end. 

Sitting in my robes in Royal Festival Hall
Graduating with a Masters
I feel like I'm six years old playing make believe
The robe keeps slipping off my shoulders
The ridiculous hat keeps sliding down my forehead
It doesn't feel real
This past year. I still can't quite put it into words.

I thought that with my Masters
I would be amazing,
But I still don't feel like I am.
I still can't belt an E
I have worse stage fright now than when I started
I want to be brilliant yesterday
I want to be wonderful super fantastic coolness remarkable
Right now!
What does it mean exactly to "have potential"?
What do they see that I, still, after all this, can't access?

What do I want to be when I grow up?
I want to be Mary Poppins and Maureen Johnson and Miss Honey
I want to sing and dance and act and write
What I really want is to play roles I've written myself
Perform my own material
I want to travel
I want own my own house
I want to live in the same continent as my love
I want to sing and be able to write good music
I want the praise of my superiors and my cohort
I want to feel accepted
I want to be happy within myself and proud of my own achievements

What do you do with a BA in English (/History)?
You travel the world
You fall in love
You have visions of living in happily married bliss on the leafy north shore
And you have your heart broken
And you re-assess
And you say "fuck it".
And you leave everything you know and move to a whole other country
Where everything is the same but different
And you deny that you're experiencing culture shock because you are already
Widely Traveled and Older than the average student
And have Life Experience

But really, you're still young
You're still at the beginning
Even though actually you're already part of the way
And actually,
No one knows what is next
No idea.
It's what makes people scared, greedy, snide, arrogant
Everything
Because none of us knows what is next
Yes we can dream, we can plan,
VITAL!

But actually, we have no idea
It doesn't scare me
(actually it does,
but, in this moment, it's liberating)
I can do whatever I choose.
 
The Principal of the School at Graduation
Do something every day that
scares you
Today, again, I choose to blaze a trail of my own
To remember to stop looking around me and totally freaking out that the other peoples paths look better or different to mine
In the words of Elle Woods
I've got to find my way 
In the words of Sondheim
It's our time, breathe it in, worlds to change and worlds to win

What do you do with a BA in English (/History)?
You get an MA in Music Theatre,
You take a deep breath
And -