Somewhere between coffee number 2, coordinating my Kaplan teaching schedule, and facilitating the daily PR whirlwind at L+F, I realized that the most significant intellectual relationship in my life is a consuming, heady, butterflies-in-the-stomach love for the NYTimes opinion column.
Today's contribution by David Brooks only confirmed my passion, which has blossomed over four years of New York Today, Arts, and Politics email blasts from NYT. In The Modesty Manifesto, Brooks put voice - er, pen - to the thoughts that have been pinballing around my brain for the past several months:
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/11/opinion/11brooks.html?nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha212
You may be wondering how on earth Brooks' article about the American citizen's [d]evolution away from modesty and toward overconfidence relates to trying to be a dancer/singer/actress on Broadway.
What it comes down to is this: how to balance self magnification without losing sight of your better virtues?
Magnification of the self is crucial for a Broadway hopeful to find success. Let's be real, look at Wall Street, medical schools, the fashion world; it's kind of critical everywhere!
To sing in a way that is hire-able, you must literally magnify your voice to be heard above a piano in an audition room; later to be heard over an entire orchestra in a show. Whether in class, in an audition studio, or on stage, you must dance (and act) with the most intense life and passion you can muster. Your challenge is also your most substantial declaration of love: to direct all of your energy the person in the last row of the theatre, in partial view, who has risked the nosebleed section (as well as significant eye strain) to come see you perform.
People hear Broadway and think: Jazz Hands, Falsies, Drag Queens, Campy Grins, a little arachnoid catastrophe here (so sad, Julie!), a little rock star pregnancy controversy there (gross, Constantine), but everything screams EXTREMES.
Yet when you want to retain the respect and interest of casting directors and choreographers, extremes can be the end of you! I've seen it in action, a dancer gets over-confident and showy, eats up space in the room, and the directors are disgusted. A singer goes diva and loses the allegiance of her conductor (therefore her whole orchestra) and stage hands (no curtain call, indeed).
Commanding attention is key, but transgress the fine line between confidence and cockiness, and things start to get ugly!
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