I needed some distance before I could write the second part of the Cabaret blog. I’m still in mourning. I think Cabaret requires extra recovery time from post-show blues because it is so intense and emotional – it’s the show itself. I told my castmates that I am experiencing actor karma for when Paul (my Cliff) and I conspired before Act 2, “Let’s crush their souls! Mwahahaha!”

I did watch the movie yesterday – wow, it’s different – and many clips from the show that I couldn’t (read: refused to) watch while I was playing Sally. If I can avoid it, and I do unless a director says otherwise, I won’t watch any other interpretations of my role while I am cast; I do not want to be influenced by others’ performances. I am pleased to report that of the clips of the title song that I watched – Jane, Liza, Natasha…couldn’t find Emma – my rendition was different.

Scary Sally – Cabaret
Photo by M.Butler Photography

I’m really happy that my interpretation was not a carbon copy. It wasn’t completely cheerful or jazzy, and I didn’t full out scream the last verse…I roared it. Safely of course – never from the throat – I am a soprano and very protective of my voice. The technique felt close to when you add those fall-off-the-note or break-ish flourishes while singing jazz…a similar thing to what I did while singing “Maybe This Time.” I explain in more detail about singing “Cabaret” below.

TECH WEEK

Typical tech. Enough said. The difference was that our Thursday final dress was open as a donations-accepted performance for family and friends. The audience mostly liked it – except for the offended couple who left after “Mein Herr.” Sorry folks; I don’t write the songs – I just sing them.

It was also the night we were all excited about taking pictures, many of which can be seen here and on the related posts. Facebook exploded with Cabaret pics – it was a joyous time on The Interwebs, indeed.

Cabaret 2015 – Live Arts Theatre – backstage

Our beautiful KitKat Klub dancers – Cabaret
Photo by M.Butler Photography

PERFORMANCES

The shows went well. I had several people say I blew them out of the water with the song “Cabaret.” For those who are unfamiliar with the 1998 revival, the stage directions around the title song are “Sally appears. Something is not right,” and “Sally begins to break down,” right before the last verse. It is not a happy song in the revival. In the movie, it’s sort of a celebration of showbiz and living a wild life as a performer (or just a jazzy song); in the revival, it’s a rather horrifying realization regarding the unfairness of a difficult life.

My best compliments included a new friend who said she was unfamiliar with the show and completely enraptured and angry with me at the end (and she cried). I am always thrilled when people say they cried and were rooting for Sally and Cliff. (“I was like, ‘Just do it. Go to Paris. Just go!'”)  It means I did my job right. And this wonderful compliment came during a chat after the show:

“Where did you come from? Are you here for school? Are you from NY or something?”

“No, I live here in Atlanta right now. I’m aiming for New York in January.”

“Well, you could totally do it. You had me crying from ‘Maybe This Time’ on. I seriously kept crying the rest of the show. I believed absolutely everything you did. ‘Cabaret’ was riveting and I was so mad at you at the end! You were incredible.”

It made me feel like I am on the right path. The two lovely gentlemen who came up to me after the final Friday performance and communicated their gratitude primarily in gestures (one took my hand, kissed it, and placed his hands on his heart) moved me to tears.

A friend said the show was “shockingly intense” and wrote that she and her husband were still talking about it the next morning. “‘Cabaret’ was award winning. Honestly…so unbelievably moving.”  I also got my first fan email, which was exciting.

Someone maliciously decided to sing along – in an exaggerated manner so I’d see it – to “Cabaret” during the final Saturday performance. Classy, no? I held it together (as together as Sally is at that point), but it was not cool. It’s not Mamma Mia, people. Please respect your fellow actors.

SINGING CABARET

Because some people may find this interesting, here’s what happens to me when I sing the title song (all onstage pics by M.Butler Photography):

It starts as fairly normal, but slightly off. I never even walk onto that stage balanced. It’s not genuinely happy; it’s fake and forced. As the song progresses, the fidgeting and level of uncomfortableness grows, and I actually change my breathing patterns as things spin out of control.

I avoid techniques for beautiful singing at that point because Sally is not pretty at all at the end of that song. To make it lovely and tuneful then is a disservice to the character. I did it safely, but I was sure to make it truthful/scary/ugly.

By the last verse, I usually get a chill when I sing/roar the line, “Start by admitting from cradle to tomb…” I cannot explain it, but it often happened that way – and the shaking was real if those chills happened. Someone asked how I did that…I don’t know. I just felt it. By the end of the song, 95% of the time that shaking was involuntary. If you heard it in my voice, it was real.

PERFORMER GOALS

The reason playing Sally was, for me, so fulfilling, is that I moved people. I really touched them. That has been always sort of a background goal until it solidified a few years ago when the Les Mis tour came to town.

I love Les Miserables. It is my favorite musical (yes, even as often as I profess my love for Lenny Bernstein). But “Bring Him Home” has never been one of my favorite numbers in the show. However, Peter Lockyer sang it so purely and simply that I did not even realize I had tears streaming down my cheeks until a verse or two in. He sang from his soul and I was listening to an angel. I sat there, silently weeping, and thought, “I want to do that. I want to move people to tears.”

THANK YOU

To have the opportunity to move people as Sally Bowles was incredible, and I will always treasure that. Thank you to my friends in the cast, crew, and orchestra. Your support lifted me up when I needed to hear it.

Cliff and Sally

A special thank you to my wonderful Cliff Bradshaw, Paul Franklin. To be up on that stage with you, crying through our last scene of the last performance – I will never forget that.

Sally confesses to Cliff  (dress rehearsal)