How to make a Ginger into a Genius

I was in a play, Picasso at the Lapin Agile written by Steve Martin. I played a young Albert Einstein; it's a long story. The last three days we performed it at our college (my old college). The show was incredible! It was all such a wonderful experience. The fun of getting ready in the dressing room, warming up.


Walking around the stage in character. Feeling completely at peace knowing that you did all you can do and now it's go time, all while feeling complete terror as you realize that all of your lines have completely escaped your memory. This is when it has to become more than just reciting lines, it's about living the experience. Being so into that character that it doesn't matter what the lines are, because you know them inside and out, and you know what they'll say anyway. It was amazing, the excitement, that adrenaline rush right before you open the door to make your entrance. That silence as you enter, feeling their eyes shift toward you. The giggles from your friends as they realize that yes, that is you in the wig and over-sized mustache that make you look like Groucho Marx, or Mario from the Nintendo games.


Your first punch line and the laughter that follows. The laughter you hear from a face you just made. It's the nuanced laughter that you don't expect, because I'm not trying to make you laugh, I'm trying to make you believe this person I'm portraying is real, he just happens to be funny. I want you to forget that Taylor exists, and that this man does.

This has been the most challenging thing I've done in a while. It was so rewarding to, by the end of this whole stint, actually know this character. To be so confident with what I was doing. I wasn't worried about flubbing lines, or dropping props, as long as you recover in character, no one will know what's scripted and what's not. It's like riding a bike without training wheels, once you realize that the only thing from keeping your face off the pavement is speed, you want to go as fast as possible.

This is why we do it, so that when you walk out of that theatre, you got to see lives being lived in ways you'd never imagined, by people you wouldn't expect. Or maybe more simply, we made you smile. Because you knew that even though it was your friend in the pinstripe suit, she was happy, she was doing the thing she knows how to do best. And if that means putting on a mustache and wearing shoes that are too big for my feet, I guess I can do that. We are your modern day court jesters, you may make fun of us because we are too loud, or we do that weird thing with our faces. But we make you laugh, cry and cheer. All from the comfort of your seat. And you love it. But here's the secret, so do we. We are drama kids.