No one knows what they’re doing and everyone is doing their best

The magic of theater is that it’s live. Despite having a script, cues, rehearsals, and anything else the cast and crew can use to achieve consistency, the live nature of theater means the production remains mutable. You can’t “lock in” scenes like you can with film. Plus, not only will everyone working on the show arrive in different conditions, we’ll also show up to different audiences. No two shows are ever alike.

Which also means no performance is invulnerable to mistakes or sudden cancellations.

It’s a concept that wracked my nerves for months — from when I took over a stage role written and originated by my friend Shalom Lim in August until my performance weekend in November.

Recommended Reading

November 17, 2023 Columns by Alyssa Silva

Handling the reality of respiratory infections while living with SMA

Every time I tripped over a sentence, delivered an unintended emotion, or could feel my back start to ache, I thought, “Shoot. I’m going to ruin the show.”

It didn’t help that I caught a respiratory virus a few weeks before my performances. In fact, my co-stars, crew, and director were put in the unfortunate position of having to do tech rehearsals the day before opening night without me — one of their two leads. I’d developed a migraine midway through and coughed up, instead of speaking, every other word. I wasn’t sure I could perform at all.

This is simply the reality of performing in the theater. Whether you have SMA or not, your mastery over your body and health are critical as an actor. When COVID-19 infiltrated Broadway, it wasn’t long before the entire block closed its doors and put everyone out of work.

I’m not saying the show I was in could be a Broadway production (who knows!), or that I was expected to perform with as much finesse and as loud a voice as Tony-winning actress Idina Menzel. As a dramatized reading from a disability arts nonprofit’s incubation program, it’s clearly a work in progress. But I knew the show could not go on if I could barely function, and that, even if I could, any unplanned changes would affect the entire team and confuse our audience at best.

Almost an entire year of work from the team would go off the rails, if not crash altogether.

Suffice it to say, I had a ton of responsibility on my shoulders. I felt like I had no idea what I was doing. The pressure hit me like the pressure the flu can stuff your nose with.

Maybe don’t break your spirit along with your leg?

I wish I could say my performances unfolded without a hitch. There were so many hitches on my part that the morning after opening night, and on the day of our second and last show, I cried over those hitches in a McDonald’s.

I prepared to be confronted by my team. “Why did you freeze, Sherry?” I thought they’d ask. “Why did you miss and skip cues? Why did the delivery of your third scene revert to an earlier version we scrapped in rehearsals? Why did you mumble lines that needed to be enunciated?”

It turned out that I was overwhelmed for almost nothing.

When I arrived at the studio, everyone greeted me with warm smiles. Everyone was understanding. Everyone told me to be less hard on myself, especially because it was my very first show. The mentors for both cast and crew even explained to us mentees that they’d made mistakes, too, over the course of their careers. No one doubted we were all doing our best.

Knowing that, I felt like I could breathe for the first time that weekend.

To add to my relief, my brother, Gabriel, later told me he couldn’t tell there were mistakes in my delivery or in the show in general. The performance ran seamlessly in his eyes as an audience member.

I recount all of this to tell you, reader, that if you’re putting pressure on yourself right now, there’s a chance you might not need to. And if you’re beating yourself up over mistakes you’ve made recently, you shouldn’t. As my psychologist says, all we can do is our best. That is all we can control.

And you know, some of the more believable parts of my performance came from happy accidents and discovery in rehearsal. Even on stage, my hyperventilation scene felt more visceral to me when I needed to actually cough halfway. Obviously, I don’t recommend getting sick to play a sick character or forcing yourself to function if you can’t, but don’t stress too much if you’re ill, either. Just trust the process and enjoy the ride. You’ve got this!

Note: SMA News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of SMA News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to spinal muscular atrophy.