The Best Prep for a Great Performance

Written by Carol Fox Prescott, my best life and performance teacher - Years ago, I was touring with a Broadway Show called “Pippen.” My first entrance was not until the end of the first act. I still had to be at the theater at least one-half hour before curtain, so I decided to volunteer as the Equity Deputy, an actor’s union designation. The task requires having an eye out for the acting company’s artistic and non-artistic difficulties and report them to the stage manager. The stage manager is then responsible for making sure the show runs smoothly and everyone is safe.

No one ever wants to be Equity Deputy, so people were fine with me taking on the job. Most of the time, there is little to do. I thought it would be a breeze.

On one particular, frigid winter day, we arrived at a theater in a small Midwestern city a few hours before show time. The actors found their dressing rooms while the stagehands went about putting finishing touches on the lights and set. I noticed that it was unusually cold backstage. Taking my deputy job seriously, I went to find the stage manager to see what was going on. Of course, he was aware of the cold even though he was totally focused on making sure all the various parts of the production were in place. He quickly assured me that something was being done about it. He told me to inform the cast and go back to my dressing room.

I thought that was the end of it but an hour later, it was still freezing cold. The dancers, who had been trying to warm up their bodies wearing the least amount of clothing, were coming to me to find out what was wrong.

I went back to the stage manager. As I approached, he turned on me and let out all his unhappy, gut level anger in a stream of curses and shouts.

I ran back to my dressing room, hardly able to breathe. I slammed the door and screamed, threw my play script across the room, and furiously reveled in cursing.

We had been on the road for months, traveling in a passenger bus with just enough room for us, our luggage and two dogs. Exasperation was at a tipping point, with or without a freezing backstage.

As time passed, my breathing relaxed, and I was able to entertain some rational thoughts. I looked around and saw that with all the destructive energy that had exploded from my wrath, I avoided my costumes or my make-up. I had maintained enough presence of mind to make sure that when the time came, I would be ready to go onstage and do my job. It made me laugh as I realized that I would never have done anything to jeopardize my precious character or the play.?

When it was time to make my long-awaited entrance, I did so ease. My breath, I noticed was excited, but easy. My eyes were clear, my body loose.?

My performance was perfect. I was present, enthusiastic, and responsive. I realized that my passionate discharge of energy in the dressing room taught me a secret that would serve me for the rest of my life.

The secret - moving and releasing energy. Had I not given myself over to the tantrum, I would have carried those bitter feelings, all that clenched energy stuck in my body, onto the stage with me. Having released them, I was free to do what I loved doing most in the world.

My “Pippen” tantrum emancipated my breath, placing me right smack into the present moment, my body and my voice fully engaged.

I now understand the connection between the release of energy and a body that breathes easily and responds spontaneously.?

Now, As soon as I’m about to do anything that tests, confronts, or challenges me - when I get out on stage, enter the room for an interview, or confront a difficult work or family situation, I know getting “riled up” is the normal response.?My breath might get higher and faster. I might find myself holding it for many seconds at a time. My mouth might get dry, my hands get sweaty, my mind fills with visions of failure. What do I do? ?

I get myself to a safe space, and using my body, my breath, and my voice, I experiment with movement and sound, working together, to free me of the distress. Sometimes it’s a good cry, sometimes thrashing around on the floor. It might be cursing the world, singing a sad song, rocking myself in my own arms, laughing uproariously, whatever it takes, as long as it takes the whole of me.

My one rule is I must not hurt myself, others or property. My intention will always be to make myself feel better.

I don’t advocate tantrums. I do advocate conscious, purposeful release of held energy, of feelings expressed. I advocate the pure pleasure of full body movement; the relief of free breath and the pure delight of allowing my voice to come forth; loud, soft, high, low, but always direct from the center of my being.

DAILY REMINDER - My Breath is Free….

When my breath is free, even as this ever-changing, constantly moving universe, swirls around me, I can live my life instead of thinking about it, engage in it rather than judge it.

My breath is free when I need not be afraid of feelings. They bestow clarity so that my decisions and my conduct will reflect my appreciation of life.

My breath is free.

I don’t need a gym, or special equipment. I don’t need anyone’s permission. When my lungs feel squeezed, when my body is tense, when my thoughts are self-critical, jumbled and destructive, preventing me from seeing clearly, I can move my body, I can let my voice ring out, I can speak my truth, I can dance, I can run, I can sing, I can laugh, I can write, I can cry, I can take up space.

I need only me, and the intention to seek and live, as much as possible, in the joy of my own experience.

And then, my breath will be free.

?Carol Fox Prescott, Master Performance Teacher, is renowned for her transformative, reliable, physical approach based on breathing, awareness and joy. Her work re-channels performance anxiety into free-flowing, intuitive, genuine self-expression. Carol’s clients include professional actors, clergy, attorneys, doctors, artists and educators, anyone for whom presentation, and self-discovery are essential for success. Read more at https://carolfoxprescott.com/

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