The real magic started after we opened. With tech rehearsals over and done and folks recovering from the long hours and stressful last-minute changes, we could relax into the show and enjoy it. “The Lusty Month of May” finally became fun again — singing lead with a chorus behind me is one of my favorite things about musical theatre. It’s an indescribable high, absolutely incredible. (The pic below is me is part of that scene, listening to Pellinore talk crazy, when I’m not sure if I trust him yet.)

The costumes were gorgeous and fit right into our beautiful set. The crown was indeed heavy, as the saying goes. There was that one night where it attacked my nose and left me with a tiny dash-shaped bruise on the bridge of my nose for a week. Ouch. (It was completely my own fault. I forgot to take it off and it got tangled in my dress. You can see the bruise on the pic below if you look closely.)

I adored working with Joel and would love to play opposite him again in a show. (I have told him this.) Playing Jenny opposite his reluctant King Arthur gave me so much safety to find all of the quirks and moments of ruling a kingdom together. To share a stage with such a professional…well, it makes it difficult not to grow and learn and change as an actor. It was an absolute dream to play a queen — and a mythical but humanly flawed one at that. “Before I Gaze At You Again” has been in my audition book for years, but singing it in the context of the show, filled with guilt and near tears, was a lesson in stillness.

Dress rehearsal pic by our own Lancelot, facing out into the house

At the final performance of our 16 shows, I expected my last scene of saying goodbye to Arthur and Lancelot to be more intense. I usually cried a little but was appropriately armed with a tiny handkerchief, then went downstairs and fixed it up. (“Who needs waterproof mascara?” I mistakenly wondered. “I’ll just clean it up a bit before bows like usual and it’ll be fine.”)

I cried my entire face of makeup off. All of it. All the mascara, liner, both fake lashes (although they were falling off before “Guenevere”), blush, highlight, eyeshadow…There is no photo evidence of this because it was not beautiful or queenly in any way, shape, or form. It was a full-on ugly cry. Knowing that Camelot would never exist on that stage in that space with that cast ever again was so incredibly sad.

But we touched a lot of people’s hearts and brought them joy. We had couples who saw the show at least twice, many said it was the best show they’d ever seen at the Cumming Playhouse, some said it was way better than the movie, and one man tearfully told us, “I’ll remember this for the rest of my life!”

One gal even noticed my queenly hands! (I did my pretty Disney princess/ballet hands the whole time.) “I know everyone compliments you on your singing and acting, and all that was wonderful, of course. But I loved your hands! You had beautiful, floating, gentle hands and I loved that!”

Having so many performances helped ease the post-show blues, I think. I’ll always carry a little piece of Camelot in my heart. I still miss it, two months later, but I’m hoping to have a similarly wonderful show experience next summer!