Make it Fabulous, Y’all
When I’m teaching a class or directing a show, I frequently say, “Make it fabulous,” as I step back to observe.
It’s not enough to simply do something. It’s not enough to go through the motions, regurgitate the steps, flail to your place on stage, recite the lines. The audience deserves to be transported, and our performance is their mode of transportation. How we rehearse it is how we perform it, so we have an obligation at least, hopefully coupled with our own passion and desire at best, to make it fabulous every single time.
Then I ask, “How do we make it fabulous?”
The answer depends on what class we’re in, what step we’re learning, what show we’re rehearsing... The babies enthusiastically yell in response, “Sing! Smile! Dance!” The older ones say, “Smile,” or, “Dance with your whole being.”
Eventually, they reach the point where they have to wonder, to question, the answer. We don’t smile when we’re performing something thoughtful. Or sad. Or do we? How do we? And how do we make it fabulous when we’ve done this a million times?
Stop “doing” it. Start PERFORMING it. That’s the difficult part though, isn’t it? The part we can’t teach, yet we demand. To bare your soul to the audience. To let them into you and to take them with you. To be present with nothing between you but a lone, invisible wall. To believe that you are fabulous so that they, too, believe it.
So perform it. Become it. Always. There is always, always an audience, even if it’s an audience of one, and that one is fabulous you.