My dear pal, Larry King, is out there today and so is my daughter and grandchildren. Frankly, I’m more nervous about them than about Larry-and I don’t usually get nervous about anybody. Will they get bored? After all, it’s not a show for kids. Will they be proud of me? I hope so. Maybe, even if they forget everything about the play, they will remember after I’m gone that they saw their grandma perform on stage. I bet there are things about the play they won’t forget-some of the visual effects, for instance; Beethoven’s amazing scene where he creates a fugue; the scene where we all sing together. In about 10 years I will ask them to tell me what they remember. Oops. The stage manager just called “5 minutes” so it’s time to grab my binoculars and go stand next to Don Amendolia in the wings. Maybe I can spot Larry and the kids. Later-
I’m in a scene break before I have to go back on. It’s weird. I am feeling far more emotional and fragile in this show. I think it’s because my daughter and grand kids are out there. For those blog readers who have never acted, it’s a particular type of experience-you are in the character, feeling, behaving as the character, yet at the same time you’re partially conscious of who is in the audience that you care about. Today this split is particularly acute and it is tending to split me open…not necessarily a bad thing given the story.
I probably won’t have time to write any more when the play is over and then I’ll take them to dinner. But you’ll get some photos. Don’t know if my daughter will let me photograph the children.
See you next time