It’s A Wrap: Four Lessons From A Stage Acting Debut

A few hours before the Oscars, I was power-strumming a guitar and taking a final curtain call onstage with a community theater company outside Charlotte, N.C. The play we had worked on since late December, “Foxfire," had completed its six-show run. 

This was my stage debut, in a group that drew the biggest audience of the Union County Playmakers’ short history. Since you’re only a rookie at something once, I wanted to document four major lessons learned or reinforced that apply beyond that small theater. 

Collaboration

I’ve read countless articles about companies trying to improve how employees work together. As you can imagine, a play without collaboration is a sure flop. 

My role, as a musician son who struggles with his elderly mother wanting to remain on her remote Appalachian homestead, had long scenes with four characters. It was critical to tend each of the relationships with these actors. We discussed each character’s intensions, how each actor wanted to approach each scene, and adjusting to what the director saw from the audience’s perspective. 

In my experience, previously as a newspaper editor and during this play, there is one attitude that wins for collaboration: Each cast and crew member took care of each other as much as themselves. Put simply, we had each others’ backs. Those relationships, and celebrating the success together when the work is done well, made the long hours and hard work a joy. I looked forward to each weeknight rehearsal across two months. 

One attitude wins for collaboration: Take care of each other as much as you do yourself.

And note above, it’s cast and crew. An actor’s line can cue a sound or lighting change critical to a scene. Not taking care of your wardrobe or props can cause nightmares for a manager working backstage in dim light. Those roles are unseen, but a poor or clueless relationship with those colleagues could quickly damage the overall production. As in a business, each team member’s role matters. 

Preparation

Being ready to do the work is key to success in any venture. The stage magnifies this rule. 

My initial fear was being able to learn all the lines and songs well, and friends would always say how they could never do it themselves. But you can if you remember:

—Fear motivates. Simply imagine the fear of standing before an audience, frozen as you forget a line. That far outweighs the initial fear of having to learn the lines, so you do the work. 

—A spotlight makes things easier. I had to play a mini-concert, with a spotlight blinding me against a black curtain. Thank goodness for dress rehearsals, because I’d never experienced that setup. But a spotlight hides the audience and strips things down to the content. You are aware of the audience, of course, but the searing light makes it easier to knock out those tunes you had worked so hard to master. Some moments, you actually feel as alone as a kid in a bedroom, singing your heart out into a hairbrush/make believe mic. 

—Collaboration (see above) keeps you on track. Your last line is a cue for your fellow actors and crew. You don’t want to botch their work. So your respect for the company pushes you to recall and deliver the lines as written and intended. And if a crew member hadn’t shown up to part that black curtain as I ended the mini-concert, it would have looked something like this scene.

—Practice as you play. You start rehearsals with script in hand, but it’s a crutch you need to toss as soon as possible. Failures in rehearsals become the plaster to smooth the rough patches. And the blocking (where you move and stand) attaches place and movement to your lines, which does wonders as a memory aid. Once you get that work done, you start really listening to the other actors and appreciate how you fit best while onstage.

—Be detailed. Being tidy like Marie Kondo is all the rage these days, and for good reason. Props and wardrobe items have a place. Put them back for the next show. I re-tuned my guitars before every show and arrived 30 minutes earlier when needed to cool any jitters. A huge help was to save a “cue file” on my phone. It listed the line that brought me on, the related script page, what I was wearing and carrying, what capo position I had on the guitar, and how and where I exited. So every time I left the stage, opening the cue sheet kept my focus on what mattered, which was the next scene, and not celebrating or lamenting the scene that I could no longer control.

It’s never perfect

How often do we hear this but still let one error snowball into an avalanche? 

I had one major flub during the fifth of six shows, and it was by saying “out” when I should have said “in.” It was key for the fellow actor’s next line, and I looked upstage feeling brief terror that I had disrupted her work. But being the veteran actor she is, Ginger Heath improvised to cover, and we moved on. 

Another night, we had a few dropped lines that changed a scene slightly. It meant adapting on the fly, cutting more lines that referenced the previous, dropped lines. We were all a bit wide-eyed up there, but no one in the audience knew, unless they were certain family members who attended every show. 

Speaking of flubs the audience never sees, my biggest screwup was in hastily ordering a cake for the wrap party. Yes, I know Firefox was a Cold War film about Clint Eastwood hijacking a Russian super plane. Not sure how that would work on the stage.

Back to Foxfire ... a flubbed or dropped line became a fun challenge. Did you learn your part and the actors well enough to be able to improvise? Preparation, again, is key, and it makes you nimble when Plan A crumbles.

Our director, Carey Kugler, stressed early the importance of letting those flubs go and not letting it take down the next scene or scenes. As we’ve heard so often before, it’s out of our hands now, so what’s next?

Expansion

It’s so easy to stay in a safe zone, taking comfort in routine. 

I get bored and antsy in the winter. Taking on a play was a way to fight that, and because it was something I always wanted to try but had never stepped up. 

I wish I had, years ago. 

There are lyrics by my favorite band, The Avett Brothers: “You gotta show up if you wanna be seen” and “There ain’t nobody here/who can cause me pain or raise my fear/Cause I’ve got only love to share.” 

My pastor reminds that relationships are what matters in this life, more than money, fame or property. This experience pushed me to grow new skills and find wonderful people whom I never would have met. What seemed like big risks to start melted fast in the joy of working with solid-gold people. 

That said, the biggest takeaway for me, and perhaps you, is … what’s next? 

Jeff Rogers, an editor by training, helps with sales and marketing at EMI Supply near Charlotte, N.C., He loves singing at First Presbyterian Church in Monroe, N.C., at a local memory care unit, and the occasional tap room.