from Christa Kimlicko Jones, Associate Artistic Director, Director of Programming:
I just closed a show.
Up until last Sunday, I was acting in a new play called The Woman Standing on the Moon, by
James Haigney. We had a 16 performance run
at Urban Stages in NYC. During tech
week, classes started back up, so I was teaching a full load and then walking
over to the theater each night. My ritual
each evening was to touch base with my husband and pick up the largest bottle
of water I could get, a yogurt, a banana, a coffee (I know, I know, not the
best thing, but…sometimes I treated myself to a Pumpkin Spiced Latte, and that
just made me happy!), and some kind of protein bar. I couldn’t really eat anything more than that
before the show, because, though it was long, it was very emotional, difficult
subject matter. Most nights after the
show, I would need to walk it off. I’d
walk in the night air—a full 12 extra blocks
to get to my train. I’d get home close
to midnight, sleep for an average of 4 ½ hours, and do it all over again.
Since school had started back up, I invited my students to
come, which many of them did. (I have to
give a big shout out to them right now: Thank you to the students, especially
of Stella Adler Studio. You know how to
be great audience members!!) At any
rate, I can only imagine it was an interesting introduction to me; they
definitely saw me in a different light than in the classroom! After the show, there were many dear moments
with those students…and the next day in class…and days after. One day, I recall many of them swarming
around me and asking me how in the world I could do that show and then come to
studio each day bright and shiny to teach and give so much? And truly, I have to say… I wasn’t quite sure
myself. I don’t know exactly know where
the energy came from or how I got through…all I know is that I had to be right
in the moment. I knew what my objective
was for each class, and I pursued it to the best of my ability. I tried not to think about what was going to
happen at the end of my day (i.e. get in a major fight and completely crumble
into a snotty, wailing mess in the middle of the stage). If I thought of that too much, I’m not sure I
could get through. But instead, I was
with my students. And the moment. I took
one breath at a time, one moment at a time, and the next thing I knew it was
the second act, and I was in the middle of that stage. During this process, I learned how to pace my
energy out. Whenever I found a quiet
moment during my day, I took it. I drank
water all day long. I ate light, but
healthy. I figured out what my body
needed so that I could run the marathon.
Oh, and I laughed A LOT. With my
students, my colleagues, my husband, and my cast mates. Laughter is good stuff.
I am so happy to have had an opportunity to play a role like
that, for many reasons of course, but also to be able to tackle that question
of, what does one have to do to be present, to not play the endgame, to not
collapse from exhaustion when you’ve got so much ahead? I think it has to do with breathing and
taking that first step. Taking every
moment for itself. I remember in
graduate school, I was talking to my professor, Franchelle Stewart Dorn, who had
played Medea. I asked her how in the world she did that every night. She said, “I took a breath and I walked on
the stage.” And I realized then, “Oh,
that’s what we should do every day—take
a breath, start the day, be in the moment, and allow yourself to be surprised
by the outcome.”
The motto at the Stella Adler Studio is, “Growth as an actor
and growth as a human being are synonymous.”
What a great truth that is. I am
so proud to get to do what I do every day.
I am often amazed. Man, to be an
artist, to learn how to be in a moment in life—and
to help shape and hopefully inspire young minds—what
could be better? Sure I like sleep too,
but…that’ll come soon enough.
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