Diary Friday: The First Time I Met Brett


Me as Millie in PICNIC

When I was 16 years old, and a senior in high school, I auditioned for a university production of William Inge’s Picnic. I got the part of Millie. To say this was a big deal is an understatement. It changed the course of my life. Millie isn’t a bit part. She’s the linchpin to the entire thing, she’s William Inge’s alter ego, and I was surrounded by theatre majors (all of them excellent actors – it was a terrific theatre department) – and in one fell swoop I really upped my game. It was a huge feather in my cap. But it wasn’t just the acting part of things that was so important, it was the people I met. These people, all college kids, and a tight group of friends, embraced me wholeheartedly. The rehearsal process was intense. It was a whole new way of working. The director was a Meisner guy, so that was my real introduction to that process. He was an in-depth process-oriented director, and I learned things from him that I still use today. I had a natural talent, completely intuitive (ie: I didn’t know that I didn’t know what I was doing), and he didn’t really get in my way. But he did help me if I got stuck. I was so right for the part of Millie that he didn’t mess with me too much.


Me, Brett, Joanne, and Eric in PICNIC

Kimber told me later that when I had auditioned, and I was reading one of the scenes with Millie’s big sister Madge – I had a line, “Madge, how do you talk to boys?” And as I was reading, I paused before saying that, and he saw a huge blush engulf my face. (He said to me later, “I felt like Duse had walked into the room.” I had no idea what he was talking about then, and had no idea what a massive compliment that was. Google “Duse’s Blush” if you’re in the dark about it. I don’t mention this to brag. I mention it because sometimes people say things to you – about your talent, your gifts – and it is important, in darker moments, to REMEMBER them. To REMEMBER them so you can have the strength to go on. Kimber’s relating of the tale of my blush during the audition was one of his favorite stories he liked to tell about me, and every time he told it I got that strange feeling of pride and humility – because I honestly hadn’t known WHAT I was doing in that audition.) So Kimber didn’t want to get in the way of the part of me that so understood this part that an involuntary blush would occur during an audition. I was a pretty shy kid, and VERY insecure. I was constantly afraid of being humiliated or “found out”. It kept me on the straight and narrow. But I was suddenly thrust into this whole new world, where I had to be brave all the time. It changed my life. I would never ever be so nervous again.


The cast of PICNIC

Everyone I met in that cast – Liz, Joe, Linda, Brett, Joanne, Joanna, Eric, Jennifer, everyone – was so awesome to me. They were at different life stages, but they embraced me. NOW the age difference between us (3 or 4 years) is nothing – but when you’re 16, a 4-year age difference can be a lifetime. But they greeted me as an equal, they LOVED me. And I loved them back.


Me as Millie

Brett was playing the part of Alan (Madge’s domesticated boyfriend), and this diary entry is the story of the week or so of my audition, my callbacks, and the news that I got the part. I was also starting to date someone for the first time (the “TS” in the entries, so there is a level of schizophrenia going on. Excited about auditioning, excited about TS – and wild swings back and forth.)

Thank you, Brett, for being so nice to me right from the bat. For welcoming me with a smile. For being excited for me. He totally got what it meant for me to be walking into the audition room. And thank you for winking at me. I can see that wink now.

SEPTEMBER 22

Tomorrow I am going to audition for a URI play – open auditions – for Picnic – (I believe there’s a 16 year old girl in it). TS wangled me into it. OH I HOPE HE’S THERE!

I know I know I can’t go alone. I feel ill.

SEPTEMBER 23

Diary, I feel physically ill. [The continuing theme.] I haven’t gone yet. I can’t stand how paralyzed and totally SICK I feel. Last night I was feeling so weird that I called Mrs. McNeil [the drama teacher at the high school] to ask her if I should do it. She wasn’t at home (a babysitter answered) but Mrs. McNeil called back right at 8:30 – when the sitter said they’d get back. So I told her about auditions and she said, “Yes. Do it, Sheila. You have absolutely nothing to lose. I mean – just for the experience. And since you’ll be going there next year as a drama major – why not make yourself known now?”

There is a “homely 16 year old girl” in it. Mrs. McNeil said, “Aha! So you’re walking in there with an advantage. Not every college student can look 16 – but you are!”

I am so sickly nervous. I want TS to be there. I don’t know if I can do this alone. TS probably went yesterday – but he said he’d come on Sunday to give me “immoral support”.

Mrs. McNeil told me to call her the minute I got back. She said, “I can’t wait till Monday to hear about it.”

Oh help me – listen to the ad in the paper:

“The production, directed by Kimber Wheelock, will be done in the Robert E. Will Theatre, November 29 through December 8. It is the theatre department’s entry in this year’s American College Theatre Festival, and therefore may be invited to the regional festival at UNH in February and the national festival at the Kennedy Center in Washington DC in April. Auditions will consist of reading from the script and are open to all.”

Good Lord. I want to audition with someone. God – do professionals ever get used to feeling this way?

Later:

I am bouncing off the walls! I am a pinball! Someone calm me down! I don’t know if I can make a living at this – I mean, feeling this way all the time – My adrenaline! I’m — I’m gone! I’m going nuts!

What a morning.

Wowee.

I didn’t sleep at all last night. I just lay in bed honestly worrying myself sick. [In looking back, I would say that what I was experiencing was NOT really worry or anxiety. It was ambition.] I had to go to the bathroom about every minute. And last night, real late – the last M*A*S*H* was on – Oh my God. Maybe I was in for a good cry. It is beyond my comprehension how the MASH people did it. Everyone – the actors, the writers – I went up to my room and CRIED AND CRIED. I didn’t sleep at all. I just lay there feeling sick and worried. I kept thinking, “Nervousness can be good” but all I felt like was throwing up. I’m serious.

I got up on my own accord at like 8:00 (auditions at 11:00). I just was pacing. I wanted to get hold of a script but where? [I hadn’t read the play, obviously, so I was walking in there blind.] I had no idea what the auditions would be like. I saw myself as they would see me – a bumbling high school kid, humiliated and ridiculed.

At about 10:00, I really didn’t want to go. But I had to. Mrs. McNeil would want to hear about it and I just couldn’t say, “I chickened out.” So I called TS. This time I got him out of the shower. GREAT. Again, he answered with this grunt. I said, “Hi – it’s Sheila.” I asked him, “Did you go to the auditions yesterday?” And he said, “Auditions? What the hell are you talking about, Sheila?” I KNEW somewhere in the back of my mind that he was kidding, but I still got all flustered, and stuttering. Finally I said, “You know what I’m talking about.” Turns out that he didn’t go yesterday, so he was getting ready to go today. I felt so relieved. Thank God! I would have gone even if he didn’t. But it made me feel so much better that there would be a familiar face there.

So then off I started. I walked there . I needed to do something with my coursing adrenaline. I felt like screaming, I felt roller-coaster sickness when I thought of auditioning.

It was a gorgeous perfect breezy day. We’ve really had beautiful Garden of Eden days lately. And everything is so green and yellow and blue. It was perfect exhilarating weather – just right for my mood.

And – just as I was walking down the road, I heard this, “Sheila! Sheila!” Mrs. McNeil was just driving by so she pulled over. Rebecca – her too-cute-to-be-true daughter was in the back seat. Mrs. McNeil said, “I was just thinking about you!” So we talked – she wished me luck and off I went. I kept pounding it into my head, “This is a good experience. This is a good experience.” But I was scared out of my MIND.

I finally got to the Fine Arts Center. All these Drama majors were milling around. They all knew each other. They all knew the play. I felt so country bumpkinish and disgustingly juvenile. In fact, I sort of hid in the bathroom. I was so scared and shy, and I had no idea what I was doing. I almost left. I really did. My teeth were chattering, I was all over goosebumps. I sat on this bench for about 15 minutes thinking, “Where is TS?”

The way the lobby is set up – there are benches around these huge square columns so I was sitting on an isolated side where no one could see me. I came so close to getting up and leaving when I heard on the other side, this guy saying, “Are you auditioning?” And I heard TS’ voice, “Yes.” I was practically crying I was so scared and afraid to move that I’d humiliate myself. So TS found me huddled alone, and he sort of told me what to do. There was this other guy on the other side with forms we had to fill out. So TS and I sat together and filled them out. Easy stuff, but I felt so idiotic writing: “Monday thru Friday – 8:00 to 2:00.” in the slot where it said “Conflicts”. Oh well. I can’t help it that I’m still in high school.

He also gave me a script to study. So we had a 15 minute wait, so TS and I just sat together quietly, reading. There was really only one part I could go for. That was the 16 year old girl Millie. I LOVE her. She’s shy with boys, but covers it up by being really aggressive. God, she’s so cute. The whole time I was reading I could hear myself saying her lines. I guess I looked pretty corpse-ish cause TS said, “You look like you’re on Death Row!” I read all the Millie scenes about 3 times – then TS and I just sat there whispering about the play.

The way they ran the auditions is that the director (Kimber Wheelock – dear Lord!) and two Drama majors would help with the auditions by reading opposite the auditioners. What I liked was that they auditioned us one by one so that I wouldn’t have to be intimidated by anyone else, and I could interpret it in my own way. But it was nerve-wracking anyway.

So this really nice lady who acted really informal and nice came out and took the forms off the pile one by one and brought the person in.

I went after TS. When he came out, she called, “Sheila O’Malley” and I stood up. TS said, “Do you want me to wait for you?” and me – the stupid idiotic girl – said, “Oh yes – would you?” Boy do I deserve a kick in the head. [Even back then, I was paranoid about being “too much” for whatever guy I was with. ]

The lady [hmmm … have no idea who this “lady” was. She was probably a theatre student which meant she was, oh, 20 years old … but to me, she was EONS older than I was!!] knew I was in high school so as we walked in the room she asked me if I knew Kimber, told me just to relax. God, everyone was so nice to me.

I was mostly just worried that everyone would be like: “Oh. You’re in — high school” in a derogatory way, and just dismiss me, not give me a chance.

The audition room was one of the acting class rooms. I’ve been in them before. They’re huge – but no architecture at all. It almost looks like a gym – or just a box with tape on the floor. [I didn’t know the lingo yet. Rooms like that are actually called “black boxes”.] Really bleak. And there was Kimber behind a desk, smoking on his pipe. And there was a guy and a girl sitting there. [This “guy and a girl” turned out to be Brett and Liz.] I had seen the girl in a play before.

The minute I got into the room, I wasn’t nervous anymore. In the middle of the room were 2 chairs facing each other. Kimber told me to sit in one. I did. I was ON DISPLAY!

He read over my form and said, “So. You’re still in high school?” I didn’t feel at all stupid saying, “Yes.”

I glanced over at the two theatre majors and the guy grinned reassuringly at me. They were both probably 20 or so. Kimber told the girl to go up and read with me.

It was a great scene. I’m dressed up for the picnic and nervous about my first date and I’m talking to my older sister Madge. The minute I started reading, I knew I was in control. I know how to act. In fact, I think I did pretty damn well considering how sick I felt before. Then we had to read another scene that the guy was in too. He played the paper boy – and he was calling me names like “Goon face” and making fun of me – and I had to scream: “YOU ORNERY BASTARD.” Well, I did scream. I hope I didn’t make a fool of myself. I felt my whole face get hot when I screamed. I don’t know. What a wonderful part Millie is anyway.

After that Kimber just said, “Thank you, Sheila.” And the lady escorted me out. As I walked out, I glanced over at the guy and the girl. The girl was whispering with Kimber, and the guy was smiling at me, this huge nice smile. Then he winked at me. As I came out into the lobby, the lady told me that the cast list would be posted on Tuesday. TUESDAY! TWO DAYS! I’m dying already.

Oh God. I felt good about myself. Everyone was just nice. Nevertheless I mean it when I say I have no fingernails left.

Then TS and I left together. I still felt all rattled and frenzied. To beat off some of it, we just wandered around the sunny campus talking about our auditions, how we thought we did and all that stuff. We went over to the Union to see if the book store was open. It wasn’t. So then we decided to walk back to my house and he could call his mom from there. Boy, have I walked a lot today.

We just talked. He kept saying, “Are you still quaking?”

I still have to tell about our Friday night date, and also about what happened at mass tonight, but it’s late and I have school tomorrow. I still can’t eat a thing.

SEPTEMBER 24

All right. Sit down.

I either got a part, or I made callbacks.

Can you believe this.

I don’t know WHICH though because I went out with Kate today after school and when I came home Siobhan [who was 7 years old at this point] had taken this message which I am going to keep FOREVER. I love her as much as life, you know. And listen to how CUTE she is. Her writing is in pencil, and it is huge and uneven:

“do a play at the same place on Thursday night at 7:30 URI Love Siobhan”

I can’t stand it.

I don’t know what it means, though. [hahahahahahahaha]

I’m gonna go tomorrow to see if there’s a cast list or a callback list. But can you imagine? If I even just made callbacks – I was good enough to be called back! This way at least I’ll know if I don’t make it that it wasn’t only because I’m in high school.

Oh My God

If I get into this my life will never ever be the same again.

Am I good? Someone tell me. Am I any good? I mean, this is getting to be big time.

What if I get a fuckin’ part in this thing?
What if I have gotten into this play?
I will die.

This weekend has been a rough one to get through, but I did it. And on my own steam. I feel very vulnerable right now. For some reason, all my defenses are down. I think it’s because of who I am. This weekend was not a weekend. It was crazy. I got no sleep. I ate nothing. And I went and acted – which further lowered my shields. Because no matter how much I want to be irrevocably me – and be free and unselfconscious – I have my walls up. But not now for some reason. I better be careful. Acting does lower my defenses. Sometimes I feel so scared in school because nobody would protect my vulnerability there.

SEPTMEBER 26

Diary — I made callbacks. There are about 12 girls called back — on the notice, it’s under a column titled: Women. [hahahaha That was a big deal – to be grouped under that headline, as opposed to “Girls”] There are 12 20-year-old Drama majors! I’m good enough to be called back!

Oh. But today was horrendous. First of all – Oh GOD – TS wasn’t called back. I know it has nothing to do with me, and I’m so disappointed for him. I haven’t talked to him yet. I know he knows cause on the notice on this bulletin board in the Centre we had to initial next to our names, so I know that when TS went he saw my name and my “SOM”.

Today’s Wednesday. TS and I were gonna go out. He hasn’t called. I wish I could talk to him. I WON’T apologize for making callbacks but STILL – he made me go, he’s a Drama major [this is hilarious – Once I got to college, I would never say the words “Drama major” – if anything it was “Theatre major” – which sounds much better, more professional … Drama major???]

There was one thing that happened on Friday that’s really confused me. [TS and I were dating. It was relatively new at this point. I was still freaking out about it. I never stopped freaking out, actually – but that’s what’s going on here. We would go out to movies once a week. He was 19. Out of high school.] We walked home in the dark – talked about our usual things – comedians, movies, drama. [Oh for God’s sake. How about “theatre”?? That’s a MUCH better word.] We talked a lot about Clint Eastwood. Then we got to Barber Lane – a small hill – totally surrounded by trees – and the darkness was almost liquidy there. It had substance it was so thick. I mean, I could feel that TS was there but I couldn’t see him. It was pitch black. As we turned down onto it, I heard TS sort of laugh, as a joke, ‘Hey — Sheila — what are you doin’ to me?” Oh, you’d have had to hear him. It was just strange. I was laughing at how dark it was, and then – suddenly – TS grabbed me tightly around the waist, pretending to be scared, going, “Lions and tigers and bears …”

I mean, it was like really dark. Suddenly, he had his arm around my waist – and he made it as a joke – you know – “Lions and tigers” – but I didn’t know what to do or what I was supposed to do. I mean, I could hardly see him. So practically immediately, TS let me go, and we walked to my house talking in a perfectly normal way. I was still like: WHAT JUST HAPPENED? [I love how important everything is.]

When we got to my house, all the lights were off, including in my parents’ room. I didn’t think of it until later but I should have at least invited him in.

So we were standing at the end of the driveway, and that’s when he suggested, “So … you want to go to Shadow of a Doubt next Wednesday?” [I love that we would go see these noir classics] I said yes.

He hasn’t called me. [This is really the main point here.]

Tomorrow are the final auditions. I have to go to those alone. Oh, I want to talk to TS. I wish we had gone out today. What a ROTTEN day. Now I’ll never go back to sleep. I have no damn stability in my life now. Too many crazy breathless things are happening: this play, TS, school, auditions –

I feel sick sick sick sick sick SICK

I feel so sick. [You got that?]

SEPTEMBER 27

Just came back from callbacks. Cast list up tomorrow.

[The following is written in miniscule letters.] I don’t even want to open my mouth. I just have to wait and see what happens.

[Back to regular lettering] It’s late now, but I’m still staring around me with bug eyes. [Wow. What an attractive image.]

Today was – my face was perpetually upside down. TS didn’t call.

What an awful week. [Really? Because it sounds like an excellent week to me.]

After I got off work, I had an hour and 15 minutes to wait – so I was going crazy. I wandered around. I bought a soda. I thought of calling J or something – but I decided: “No. I am, for once, going to do this with only me to supply the strength.” [GOOD FOR YOU!]

It was new for me. TS wasn’t there to help me. No one but me. As I walked alone up the Centre stairs, I was thinking, “Anyone who thinks I’m not strong doesn’t know me.” I didn’t feel strong – but I knew that I could do it on my own.

I was totally dying. Dying.

I was so so nervous. Nervous isn’t even the stupid word.

I want to tell details, but I also don’t want to. If I don’t get the part, I don’t want to talk about it again. Only ONE other girl was there for Millie, and I read for Millie more than she did. But I still don’t know.

When I become a Drama major [sigh], I hope I don’t turn into like some of those people I saw there. So fakey. So showoffy. I just sat in a corner, read my script, and glared at them. [hahahahahaha] The four guys who were reading were WICKED cool. I really liked THEM.

I think I did okay. Well. I DO.

There’s so much more to say – but I can’t talk details.

SEPTEMBER 28

I’m in I’m in I’m IN!

OCTOBER 1

What a weird weird awful wonderful day.

First of all, on Wednesday, I have a personal meeting with Kimber [the director of Picnic] cause he wants to get to know people he hasn’t had before as students. Oh dear Lord. Another thing to worry about!

Today in school they announced over the loudspeaker: “Congratulations to Sheila O’Malley, who was chosen for a role in the university production of Picnic to be put on in December.”

I’m sort of a little celebrity. Whenever Stephanie sees me, she sing songs, “Sheila’s a professional actress!” And Brian Records called down the stairs to me, “Sheila! Sheila!” I stopped and he came down to me saying, “I’m so proud!”

People are GREAT. I still can’t believe my life.

Look at my life! I have too much to think about, but I can’t throw any away, cause they’re all good things. But it’s OVERLOAD.

Oh Diary Diary Diary.

OCTOBER 2

Too much is happening right now. I have to calm down. The next few months are going to be absolute chaos.

I have to remain CALM.

OCTOBER 3

So anyways, I also had my meeting with Kimber. I was not at all getting psyched for it. Because today is Wednesday – stupid Film Noir night – every dumb Wednesday I just sit around sinking lower and lower and every time the damn phone rings, I just hold my stupid breath. I hate Wednesdays. [I love that I associated my high school sweetheart with Film Noir. It is fitting.]

So my meeting was at 4. I came home on the bus for about the 2nd time all year. Mum drove me up.

I walked up to the front doors. This building is a dramatic looking building – all cement, and this long walk up where you can see yourself approaching in the dark glass doors. Also, you can only see silhouettes inside. So up I strolled, trying to look like I knew what the hell I was doing. I came into the lobby, and there was Brett (the guy in the audition who smiled at me). He’s so CUTE. He struck me as so wicked nice, cause at callbacks, I was just sitting alone and he looked at me, smiled, and said, “And your name is?” I smiled and said, “Sheila. Hi.” He held his hand out to me. “I’m Brett. Hi.” It was so friendly, it really put me at ease. At the first audition, I came into the room – he and the girl were sitting there with Kimber – I glanced at them. He gave me this reassuring smile. As I was leaving, I was sighing in relief – that yes, I had lived – I glanced at him – He winked.

Diary, I CAN’T WAIT to get to know all these people! It’s so exciting! I cannot WAIT.

So anyways, he was standing there with the one other girl who had been out for Millie. You know, it’s funny – but at callbacks, I was just sitting there observing everybody and I didn’t know that she was trying out for Millie too, but I was looking at her, thinking, “Oh, I hope I don’t turn into someone like you.” I mean, she was funny, but she seemed “on” all the time. I think it’s great when first impressions are wrong. Because mine was. NEVER rely on first impressions. It’s a huge mistake, and it felt GOOD to be proved wrong.

Anyway, I came into the lobby, they both looked at me, and immediately both shouted, “Congratulations!”

Brett (who is adorable) hailed me, “Sheila! Congratulations!” I felt so happy, so welcome. Not alienated or too young at all. I walked over to them – Brett held his hand out to me – “Hello. I’m Brett – and you’re Sheila.” He paused to remember my last name. I said, “O’Malley.” The girl giggled, “Don’t you mean O’Millie?” She was COOL – I mean, yes – she is “on” – but she is also NICE. She held her hand out to me and said, “I’m Dina. I was out for Millie too, but you were the right choice – you’re much better than me.” [The generosity there is really quite stunning, and I mean that so sincerely.]

Brett hugged her mockingly and she said, “Hey, I’m being honest! Besides, I’m not the sort of person who goes –” and she started stamping around grumbling, “I DIDN’T GET THE PART! AHHHHH.” Brett grinned at me. “The minute you turn around, she’s gonna take out a hatchet.”

When I went back on Friday to find out if I got in, there was a dance class warming up in the lobby. I guess they were both there, but I didn’t see them. Brett told me that they watched me walk calmly by – and then 5 minutes later – watched me zoom back out at the speed of light. Brett said they had all been so excited for me, and excited to see my reaction, and they had wanted to talk to me when I came back from looking at the cast list – “But you were GONE. You ZIPPPPPED by!” I said, “So who are you in the play?” And he smiled at me – really cool and real smile, and said, “I’m your friend. Your buddy!” I said, “Oh! You’re Alan!” Wicked cool! Then I said, “Oh! I have a crush on you!” Brett said, seriously, “I’m flattered.” We all burst out laughing. He asked me, “So you’re a senior in high school?” I nodded. They were … nobody JUDGED me.

I can NOT wait to work with these wonderful people!

Brett said, “So you’re here to talk to Kimber?” I said, “Yes. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” And Brett grinned at me – and said, “Then we will escort you to Kimber!” So they did. They brought me into the audition room where Kimber was waiting with this big fanfare. Brett yelled, “SHEILA O’MALLEY!” And he and Dina started applauding.

I also can’t wait to work with Kimber. After one meeting with him – I feel like I can improve so much. I learned incredible things I’ve never even thought of before. Like: don’t learn the lines. Just learn the words. Learn them in a complete monotone. Don’t interpret yet – because interpretation depends on the interpretation from other actors. Acting comes from reacting to other actors. So if you start interpreting the lines in a certain way on your own, you’re sort of depending on the other actor to give you a CERTAIN interpretation. And that’s bad. Then you can’t act and react in the moment. Kimber said that it’s harder to get out a good interpretation if you interpret on your own, alone – That thought had never entered my mind.

It’s all so great.

AMBITION!

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39 Responses to Diary Friday: The First Time I Met Brett

  1. Melissa Sutherland says:

    Sheila, so many memories. Played Millie when I was a junior. All the others were adults and so nice to me, just like for you. I think it was the English Comedy Club of Brussels. I still have a review (in French!) somewhere. 1961. Was I EVER that young? Thanks for taking me back. It was a wonderful time in my life.

  2. Mark says:

    Google “Duse’s Blush” if you’re in the dark about it.

    Well, that doesn’t help. The first two results are links to this entry.

    Do you still have that message from Siobhan?

  3. sheila says:

    I don’t think so. But it’s preserved here in my journal.

    Duse was an Italian actress and famous for her spontaneous involuntary blush onstage. Huge compliment. Best compliment ever, actually.

  4. sheila says:

    My first encounter with her was through Lee Strasberg’s book but it was George Bernard Shaw who described her blushing after seeing her in a production in 1895:

    Then a terrible thing happened to her. She began to blush; and in
    another moment she was conscious of it, and the blush was
    slowly spreading and deepening until, after a few vain efforts to
    avert her face or to obstruct his view of it without seeming to do
    so, she gave up and hid the blush in her hands.

    That was from her performance as Magda in a German play. Duse is literally a goddess to actors, but at the time of Kimber’s compliment, I didn’t know what he was referring to.

    • I found this to be probably the best explanation of the significance of her talent:

      Duse’s blush expresses Magda’s emotion anew at each performance, recreating a living fusion of psyche, soma and behavior. How does Duse do this? When Magda is confronted (a psychic event), Duse allows Magda to be deeply embarrassed (an emotional state), evoking a blush (a somatic process)—ordinarily an involuntary response—followed by “vain efforts to avert her face,” (a behavior). The behavior appears natural. Duse does it “without seeming to.” She does not produce a blush by holding her breath. Instead, she opens herself to spontaneous organic experience, in the theatre, at that moment.

      • sheila says:

        Did you just Google that? Or was it in a book you had nearby?

        There’s a lot out there on Duse’s blush. I have many books on the shelves that address her particular brand of genius. The latest biography of her has a chapter called Duse’s Blush. Lee Strasberg’s Dream of Passion goes into it in some detail. She and Laurette Taylor are the main Pillars of how to live truthfully onstage.

        We can all get too technical about these things. Bottom line is, she was a genius at spontaneous reaction.

        • sheila says:

          And I’m not saying, ‘Then clearly so am I.” Kimber made that comparison, I didn’t.

        • I first came across her in an ancient theatre history book that’s somewhere at home, but found the above through Google using “Duse’s Blush” for terms (the possessive gave more specific results). Clipped that bit from Chapter Six of what appears to be an extended essay/thesis called “Kinesthetic Ventures” by Michael Protzel (http://www.uprighting.com/). Interesting, if non-theatrical, read from the bits that I skimmed…

          And the quote below is familiar, and wonderful. It’s the empathy that she feels for her characters that I really respect and admire. I’ll have to find that bio.

          • Correction: “Kinesthetic Ventures” written by Ed Bouchar & Ben Wright. Mr. Protzel is merely hosting a PDF of the book.

          • sheila says:

            Yes, I saw that in the Google listings too – how scary that my Diary Friday beat those scholarly references. Kind of hysterical actually!!

            Lee Strasberg goes on and on about her in Dream of Passion. I’ll pull some quotes tonight.

  5. God, I love reading these.

    All the energy, all the anxiety, all the drama of my own adolescence comes rushing back and I find my self feeling the same emotions in the same chaotic waves. Wonderful stuff.

  6. sheila says:

    Donald – It’s amazing, right? How unrelentingly INTENSE everything is!

  7. sheila says:

    And how tragedy follows immediately by comedy – like days are great AND they’re awful. I’m exhausted just reading all of it!!

  8. Brooke says:

    I can’t stop crying. I loved what you wrote on so many levels. That Brett smile is forever etched in my mind and your description brought it to life once again. Thank you Sheila. Thank you so much.

  9. sheila says:

    Brookie – I’m crying, too. You can just see him sitting in G Studio, can’t you? With his jeans and white sneakers, smiling encouragingly at the new young girl in their midst.

    One of a kind.

    Love you.

  10. sheila says:

    I’ve been watching Fatsi’s super-8 videos which are totally awesome, and haunting. But they’re also making me laugh.

  11. NEVER gets old Sheila! I re-read these entries and remember my thoughts of my experience in Pinic. Thanks for keeping those memories alive in me. Also, thanks for your help in my preparation for the role of Alan. Your insight was most helpful.

    Hope all is well.

  12. sheila says:

    Chuck – it was fun to talk with you about Picnic again! It had been years since I had really thought about it – at least in a really analytical way, so that was really fun for me!

    Sadly, I post this in tribute to my old friend Brett who played Alan – he passed away last week at the age of 47 from complications due to meningitis. So all of us who knew him are very very sad this week (see some of the comments in this thread). Having tributes to him on Facebook and here definitely help.

  13. sheila says:

    Poor Alan. He really does get the shaft in Picnic. He deserved better.

  14. That is incredibly sad. My thoughts go out to you. Losing friends, especially ones with bonds in theater, is extremely difficult. I do not think people understand those connections unless the live them. It’s strange though in all of that sadness we can always find the chance to remember all the incredible indiosyncracies (my favorite word!!) of those people we adore.

    And YES!! Alan gets the shaft BIG TIME!! It stung, Sheila, it really stung. And to think he introduced the guy to his girlfriend, what the hell was he thinking?

    All my very best,
    Chuck

  15. sheila says:

    // And to think he introduced the guy to his girlfriend, what the hell was he thinking? //

    hahahaha Methinks poor Alan isn’t the brightest bulb. Yeah, take one look at Hal in his stomping cowboy boots and bedroom-eyes and a smart man would be like, “Uhmmm, yeah, gotta keep my virginal girlfriend away from HIM.”

    poor Alan – I really do feel sorry for that guy! I feel your pain in playing him! :)

  16. DBW says:

    “He is an exceptional human being and he likes me. Why didn’t he call????”

    That is so funny. I just love 16-year-old you. She is so BUSTING with energy and emotion, and, like someone I know now, she does NOT hold back–at least when she’s writing.

  17. JessicaR says:

    I think what I love about this is how the reader can tell you’re an actress. Or even more generally the thrill of reading someone talk about what they love to do. It’s the voice of a nervous 16 year old but when you get to the acting parts and talking about your process it changes. You’re an actor, without even fully realizing it you’re where The Universe wants you to be and thrilling in the discovery of “this is who I am and this is what I kick ass at” even if it’s not a fully conscious thought.

  18. WBinNYC says:

    Nice Set. Looks like a good production. Ah, those Meisner guys. And the detail stuff.
    B.

  19. sheila says:

    It was a beautiful set!! Spectacular. Broadway-level. And yes, gotta love those Meisner guys. Meisner (or my introduction to him through Kimber Wheelock) changed my entire approach.

    Thanks for reading, commenting.

  20. alli says:

    I just love that you told your diary to sit down for the big news.

    So sorry about your friend and so glad that your wrote things like this down. Thanks for sharing some of Brett with us.

  21. sheila says:

    Alli – he was really special.

  22. sheila says:

    DBW – hahaha I know, that line stood out to me as well. Ah, those days when a HUG was earth-shaking. I guess, to be honest, a hug is still earth-shaking. Not that much has changed.

  23. sheila says:

    JessicaR – thank you for that observation! I noticed the same thing (there are so many years between the Me-Then and the Me-Now that it’s like I’m talking about another person altogether) – I was insecure about being treated differently, I was insecure about how I might be perceived – but I was NOT insecure about acting. You can totally tell that here, and I am really really proud of my nervous 16 year old self for knowing what she was all about.

  24. litdreamer says:

    Man, this reminds me of my big triumph as a high school senior, when I played the second waiter in Scapino. I couldn’t wear my glasses under (or over) my mask (ah, commedia dell’arte), which may have helped my performance. Made the audience a blur instead of clearly defined faces. But I still remember the applause after my lip-synced performance of “That’s Amore.” Man, I loved being a drama nerd :-D

    And, even back then, you were a very good writer. Sounds like you were a great actress, too. :-)

  25. sheila says:

    Hey, that’s so funny – our drama club did Scapino too, an amazing production that I will remember!!

  26. Erik says:

    I want your diaries to be published.

  27. tracey says:

    Okay. I’m doing my usual. Reading, stopping to comment, reading again.

    Why is this so funny to me?

    /The audition room was one of the acting class rooms. I’ve been in them before. They’re huge – but no architecture at all. /

    I’m picturing poor high school Sheila in a black hole or a horrible collapsing room. You are inside, but there is NO architecture.

    That just struck me as so funny. Okay. Back to reading.

  28. tracey says:

    /The minute I started reading, I knew I was in control. I know how to act. In fact, I think I did pretty damn well considering how sick I felt before./

    I’ve had that same feeling myself. I think we use that “sick” feeling — get it to work for us.

    /If I get into this my life will never ever be the same again.

    Am I good? Someone tell me. Am I any good?/

    Oh, that cuts right through me. I still ask that.

    ******

    /but I can feel that he can feel it. I don’t know what any of this means.

    He hasn’t called me. [This is really the main point here.]

    Oh, why did I wake up?/

    I want to hug you.

    ******
    Speaking of hugs ….

    /Because being hugged by him was so real – I mean, no kidding about it – God, talk about defenses down – /

    Oh, Sheila. I’m laughing and crying.

    *****
    /They were … nobody JUDGED me./

    I love how you start off to say one thing and something else comes out. It feels like you just cut straight to it. Beautiful.

    I have to say, Dina’s graciousness IS stunning. Who does that? She may have been putting on a good face, but I’ve never encountered anyone who ever did that. It hurts not to be cast. I’ve seen people put on a brave face, but I’ve never seen someone proactively — well — BLESS the person who got the part over them. The hugeness of heart of that kind of staggers me.

    I love how everything here is on the brink, on the edge, about to explode. (YOU are the firework!) I think this whole series of entries could make a great one-woman show. Seriously. There’s so much here that’s smart and poignant and just laugh-out-loud funny. And NEVER calm down. I love not-calmed-down Sheila!

  29. sheila says:

    Tracey – your observations are killing me. Me falling into some sort of architecture-less black hole … HAHAHAHA

    And yes: The nerves fall away once you’re no longer WAITING to act. Once you’re up there, you know that’s the only place you should be. Ahhh, nothing quite like it!

    A hug: “God, talk about defenses down”. hahahaha I was so innocent. I actually hadn’t remembered “the hug” so I looked at the entry where I described it – and it actually was very very intense. A deep long hug on a quiet country street at 10 at night. It wasn’t a goodbye hug – it was a communication. I can’t believe it didn’t graduate to kissing. But I was CLEARLY not ready for anything more. Good Lord! A hug sent me into a tailspin!

    I am now friends with TS on Facebook. Life is very strange.

    Also, I jsut love that all we did was go see film noir movies. He’s the reason I saw my first Marx Brothers movie. He’s the reason I saw my first WC Fields movie. He’s the reason I first saw all of those old film noirs. That was what we did together. Very cool!

    And yes: Go, Dina!!! So nice! I can only speak for myself – but if I was in her position – and it was generally considered a done deal that I would play Millie (Dina was in college, but she had a very youthful look) – and out of the blue a real high school student shows up and steals the part out from under me … I honestly do not think I would have been so gracious. Dina didn’t get a part in the show at all. So that makes her generosity to me even more stunning.

  30. sheila says:

    also, in your last comment about how everything is on the brink of exploding: it’s one of the few times in my life when I KNEW that everything was about to change. That I would change. That this would be a life-changer.

    So often it is retrospect that gives you that, you look back and go, “Wow, everything changed when that event went down …” but here (and a couple other times, maybe 3 or 4) I absolutely KNEW that I would come out of it a different person.

    And I was totally right.

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