Okay, I lied.
Five months ago I ended this blog. I said I was done writing here. I am back in Abilene now, so why is it that I am writing another post on a Study Abroad blog I left behind last semester? Yes, the Study Abroad semester has concluded. But despite this, I can’t get the Thames River out of my head. It haunts me. I dream of moments on the ramble. In my dreams I imagine different ways that I might return to England in the future so that I can hike the Path again. And I can’t stop thinking about London.
My life update: last year while hiking the Thames River Path I did so knowing that when I returned to Abilene I was planning to fulfill another bucket list item of mine: auditioning for a role in one of my favorite musicals, Sweeney Todd. Across the nearly 200 miles of rambling the Thames Path, I spent hours rehearsing songs from the show, reciting lines, and imagining what it might be like to play the title role in a real stage production. In the rural stretches of the Thames Path, nobody can hear you. In the urban jungle of London proper, nobody cares if you are singing Sondheim lyrics about a daughter you have lost and men that you want to kill. It’s glorious. While in London last Fall I made a special side trip to Fleet Street just so I could make the connection to the real street that is the home of the legendary barber.
This Spring I auditioned for the show. I am thrilled to share that in June 2023 I’ll be playing the title role in the Abilene Paramount Theatre production. It has been 30 years since I’ve performed in a show. We began rehearsals this week. I’m in awe of the talent of the other actors I’m privileged to work alongside this summer. This is a dream come true. If the hours I spent walking the Thames Path singing Sondheim played any part of making this happen, I can confirm the truth of Sweeney’s words at the beginning of Act 1: there’s no place like London.
Granted, Sweeney himself means something different by these words. His comment is one of disillusionment and despair about a world in which the privileged use their power in ways that directly harm the most vulnerable. For the next two months I’m going to be living in this world, and I’ve decided to restart this blog. I’m uncertain how much or how often I’ll write here (how much can I write, what with an entire musical to learn?), but I see this as a sort of epilogue to my 2022-2023 academic year, a way of connecting my current obsession with the obsession that gripped me last fall. I want to reflect on the meaning and value of live theatre, and I want to share what it feels like to step into the role of Sweeney himself.
Halfway through our first week of rehearsals, I’ll end this post with a few initial thoughts about returning to the stage:
(1) I confess that I’m intimidated by real actors. There are some current and former theatre students in this cast who are exceptionally gifted. How am I getting to play alongside these men and women? I’m excited, somewhat nervous, but mostly grateful for the opportunity.
(2) In our opening rehearsal, the costume designer said something profound that I wrote down in my libretto: “Your body is a solution, not a problem.” I’ve been thinking a lot about what this lovely comment means to me. This week as we’ve begun blocking the opening of the musical, I’ve become hyperaware of some feelings I have about my own body. I’m self-conscious of how thin I am, especially my arms. When I think of the character I’m playing, I have long seen Sweeney as a physically imposing figure (for example, Bryn Terfel in the 2014 concert production). Physically speaking, I am not an imposing person, so as much as I love this musical I’m trying to figure out how to play it in a way that feels natural to me. The latest Broadway production casts Josh Groban as Sweeney, who offers a very different take on the demon barber. Physically speaking, Groban is lighter, less imposing. With respect to physicality, I see these Sweeneys on a spectrum, and of sheer necessity I am located closer to Groban than Terfel on this spectrum.
(3) I’m also thinking about the intersection of these physical differences with the different manner that each actor portrays Sweeney. Terfel’s Sweeney is vocally imposing; one can almost feel the menace in the weight of his every word. Groban’s Sweeney is more lyrical. While I have not seen the latest production, I wonder if the menace of the character is found in the stark juxtaposition of Groban’s light lyricism with the vivid horror of what he is doing on the stage. I’m mulling over all of this as I think about my own portrayal.
(4) A final personal note: for those of you who were following my blog last fall, I shared that my mother was in physical decline. Many of you already know this, but I’ll share it here: my mother died in February. This weekend my family is returning to Pennsylvania for a memorial service we have organized in her honor. Last summer when I told mom that I was planning to audition for Sweeney, she was delighted. It was one source of joy for her during the last months of her life when she was suffering so greatly. I regret that mom is not alive to see the June show. I’ll have her on my mind and close to my heart this summer while on the Paramount stage. Here’s a link to the eulogy I wrote last Fall in her honor: For You, Mom–Vic
