The show must go on - does it have to?

I think about this phrase occasionally. It’s certainly a philosophy that I have been brought up believing as the child and grandchild of ministers and public leaders, and as a performing musician. 

There is a stick-to-it-iveness that comes from this mentality. Put the personal drama away and get up on stage to do your thing.  No matter your mood or what has happened to you, the show must go on, so pretend everything is OK, or use it in your presentation if applicable. Not only was my Mom a minister, she was also an hobby actor, she wrote plays, she was a born drama Queen - imagine a ten year old (in the 50s) pretending to pass out in Bible Study b/c she was bored! She had a lifetime of stress (and privilege) of growing up a preacher’s kid and putting on a good face, even through an early abusive marriage. She taught me to put on a good face too.

This mentality has been helpful and harmful for me…

Helpful:

  • I get the job done.

  • I can put emotions aside and be calm in a stressful situation

  • I’m great in a crisis

  • I can work with difficult personalities 

  • I am observant and can read the energy in a room and respond accordingly

  • I’m a good wallflower AND a good public speaker

  • I can lead the charge when no-one wants to

  • And… It’s made me a good listener and peacemaker, helpful for my job as a musician and voice coach

Harmful:

  • After stuffing away emotions so many times, it’s been hard to know how to feel; so I’ve often frozen my emotions. 

  • Not sure feeling anything other than stable and happy is ok; permissible

  • I tend to fall apart when I’m alone

  • I learned not to ask for help

  • I sacrifice my comfort and needs for others

  • Hard to know or remember what I actually want and need

(I have been actively practicing unlearning these harmful traits. Trauma therapy, coaching, a litany of books, podcasts and talking with friends who are doing similar work have been most helpful the last 7 years in me being able to allow and identify emotions, recognizing they are all valid and important, and in turn, learning how to ask for what I need.)

Actors and Musicians live by this mantra too. It’s a competitive field and not all of the jobs have understudies or 2nd chairs, and if you call in sick and use the substitutes, that might be the end of that gig, or career. I believe that’s how Sutton Foster got her big Broadway debut. She was the understudy for Millie back in the 90s and got to fill in one night. Not sure who the original actress was. This is why performers careful not to get sick and will even go on sick or in distress; anything not to cancel a gig. I have had singers call and ask if there is a magical cure for a hoarse or sore throat because they have to go on. Many won’t let a break-up or family death stop them from getting up on that stage. 

I’ve lived “the show must go on”. If I was scheduled or assigned to sing in front of people, I did it; no matter what. I’ve sung hoarse, I’ve sung dizzy, I’ve sung material that I disliked or that disinterested me. I’ve spoken and sung through gigs during trying personal times. And, it’s taken me some time, like a slow dawning over several years to realize that I don’t like it. I think that’s one reason why I avoided a career on stage. I could sense the inauthenticity a long time ago without naming it. I was hiding on stage mostly for so long too, so it didn’t matter that much before I was self-aware and analyzing. It’s what I’d been trained to do since childhood; put on a good face and entertain. 

These last 2 years that’s been especially difficult and exhausting. If you’ve been trained in “the show must go on” philosophy, you know. I’m curious how my fellow performers and teachers have coped with it. Have you let yourself be real and vulnerable in front of your students?  

To my recollection, I’ve only canceled ONE gig before. A dozen years ago in grad school, I had to cancel one of my graduate recitals because I completely lost my voice. I mean, I couldn’t squeak or squawk. I was definitely sick, but I can also see how it was likely psycho-somatically induced. There was a lot of pressure and dispute and stress around my voice in grad school. It was the first time I experienced performance anxiety in my life. The first time I didn’t pass with glowing colors from professors. Those were a couple of hard years. And, I think my Dad was the only one put out from the cancelation - he was flying in, but he was happy to see me regardless. 

I remember when the magic left me in performance. After 7 years with the Opera Company, I was in one show that I was not feeling - the music, the actors. I was starting to me annoyed by my fellow chorus members. I was losing the joy. And, going on felt like such a chore. That was my last full season. This was also around the time I was doing more contemporary music personally and in the studio and was starting to make a connection to singing and authenticity that I’d never seen before, as I’d mostly used the stage as a place to hide and let feelings out. 

Every church I ever joined I had the pressure of joining the choir, because that’s what you do when you’re a singer. But, that always limited my involvement with other parts of church, or with my partner’s involvement, and I sometimes resented it. Of course that was me not knowing what I really wanted, or how to set boundaries. And, my interest in choral music waned. 

I’m happy to report that I perform now because I want to. The pandemic gave me that extra push to really listen to myself and be true to what I need and cancel when I need to - crazy that it took a life-taking virus to give me permission to say “no”.  Has anyone else experienced this gratitude for having this excuse to set boundaries?

Where “the show must go on” shows up in my life mostly these days is in my teaching/coaching and gig life. In less than a year I bought a home, moved, started construction on a studio, moved out of my commercial space, had my new home broken into, finally got my mom into a nursing home, lost my Dad and got rid of all of my Mom’s things (despite her still being alive) - all the while maintaining an online voice coaching business with 35+ clients. 

I love my work, and this last year has been a struggle even without a global pandemic. I’ve tried to balance honoring my exhaustion and grief with being a productive presence and coach for clients. And, I’m dismantling “the show must go on” here too. I cancelled and rescheduled lessons when I needed to in order to be the better me for them later. 

The reason I started this blog was because a client recently asked me, how to you go on, find the confidence to have a good performance when it’s your job, and you don’t really love the music. My short answer was, we suck it up. Then I added, if you can find a way out, to it. It does take a lot of energy and joy away. I asked for more time to think on it. Here’s something else…

I love performing. I’ve discovered my biggest love… performing my own songs. I’ll be looking for more opportunities to do that in the future. In the meantime, most of my performing these days is with my two bands; my trio Sweetgrass Serenade and the duo with my sweetheart Keith, we are Beauty & the Blues.

Right before my trio’s CD came out last December, I thought I should quit the band. I even told Diana and BK, maybe y’all should take up other projects, or find someone to replace me. I was in the throws of buying a house, moving and dealing with my Mom’s ever-progressing Alzheimer’s which had me to and from her place an hour away more frequently. I couldn’t imagine talking about scheduling gigs (this was before the vaccine came out). I already told them that I was out for the winter - no indoor gigs. I’m glad they waited for me. I’ve really enjoyed the few gigs we’ve had this spring and summer. We were recently picking songs to add to our set list and I said “no” to the ones that didn’t bring me joy. Win win!!

I make sure I sing songs I like. I mostly sing different songs with Keith. He and I had a lot of summer gigs this year. So, even though I’m singing music I like and playing with people I like, there were some days (given the shit-show of the year!) when I was NOT IN THE MOOD. Setting up in the hot sun, playing and sweating 3 hours in the hot summer evenings did not help! I sweat a lot and I get cranky! Even still, often I would find my mood would shift when we began. There is something so soothing in the vibrations in my throat; it’s always been my favorite thing about singing. Like an internal hug. 

There was one gig this summer when I stayed cranky. That wasn’t fun.  Feeling in a similar place an anther evening, I left the rest of the set up to Keith and went to the bar for a drink and a self pep talk. That involved some deep breaths, a little “you can do this and they’ll love you” kind of affirmations, reminding myself what fun it can be. A cheers and a kiss with Keith and indeed my. mood turned around. I’ve also brought a bad day with me to the stage and used it as banter and a way to connect to the audience. Not only did that help me, the audience got super engaged, and that was a really good night up at Summit Coffee. By the way, Sweetgrass is back up in Davidson on Sept 24th. Come out and see it all in action!

It would be harder for me to cancel on Sweetgrass - we all participate on everything. Keith frequently does his own solo gigs, and I could - and probably a couple of times should have - cancelled and let him carry the show. I’m still learning that “the show does NOT always have to go on.”

When I choose to “go on” and I’m not in the mood, I’m still grateful to be feeling all the feelings, even cranky ones, rather than being in the numb state I spent years in as a performer.

I’m curious to know how you might juggle this performing philosophy while honoring your own wellness. How can you stay true to what you need when the stage is expecting you?

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