by Annette Wasno
“O God! that one might read the book of fate.”
Herny IV Part 2, III.i
I’m almost 54 years old. That’s right. I’m a middle-aged female actor and, despite the generally accepted advice for my vocation, I just told the world how old I am. So take that, conventional wisdom! In your face, sexist ageism!
Wooo! That felt good! Wonder where that came from? It’s possible that playing the role of Queen Henri has gone to my head. More likely, though, the people that I’m working with and the conversations we’re having in the course of building a re-gendered world for these productions are prompting me to take a closer look at what I believe, what I say I believe, and how I act on those beliefs.
I went to high school in the mid to late 70’s. The upheaval of the 60’s was done but American society was still absorbing the impact of those many voices speaking out and taking action. I looked forward to my future knowing I would have more opportunities, fewer societal constraints, and a better chance at living an “unconventional” life than the women of my mother’s generation. And I was sure that that new, controversial form of address, Ms., would catch on eventually.
So life rattled along. I was able to do much of what I dreamed I would in terms of education, family, travel, work. There were sacrifices along the way, some dreams deferred, the occasional bump in the road. Next thing I knew I was tossing out phrases like, “I did that for about 15 years,” or “I worked with her 20-some years ago“ and “The last time I did that had to be, what? 30, 32 years ago.” I started to realize my life was, statistically, much more than half over and there was so much I still wanted to do. And that I had a finite number of years that my mind and body would be able to meet the demands of my remaining hopes and aspirations. The real wake up call was realizing that by the time my father was my age, he had less than 10 years to live. Of course, no one knew that at the time.
O God! that one might read the book of fate.
A couple of years ago, I became an “empty nester” and looked forward to what this next phase of life would bring. I took stock of my life and realized, yikes! I’d become a typical suburban housewife and mother. Not at all the unconventional image I’d designed for myself in my youth! But now I had the chance to return to acting, an outlier of careers if ever there was one, and a vocation I truly loved. Problem was that the acting world had changed. A lot. And so had I. It took a lot of time and effort to re-orient myself and begin making progress.
When Queen Henri talks about the book of fate, she concludes by saying,
“O, if this were seen,
The happiest youth, viewing her progress through,
What perils past, what crosses to ensue,
Would shut the book, and sit her down and die.”
If I’d known how much harder it would be this time around to get acting work, well, I probably wouldn’t have sat down and died (too dramatic for me). However I probably would have quit. But I’m glad I didn’t.
I eventually started to get cast and was offered some meaty, challenging roles in a variety of plays. Then I was cast in Henri IV. Right from the start, our rehearsal process was different from others in that we spent a lot of time together as a whole production team. We shared ideas about how our re-gendered world would look, what the design elements would look like, how to analyze and interpret the text, creating new words to fit in our new world, and on and on. As I listened to what the others, particularly what the other (younger) women of our company were saying, I realized how far I’d drifted away from that high school student who saw endless possibilities ahead of her. How many of my optimistic philosophies had given way to cynicism, at least when it came to applying them to my own life. How the list of opportunities had been slashed for no other reason than I got distracted or tired and gave up trying to make them happen. Now I’m thinking my new philosophy should be “Ask More.” Scratch that. “Ask Different.” Of life. Of myself. For myself.
Theatre serves so many important purposes. It can entertain, enlighten, move you emotionally, challenge your way of thinking, encourage reflection and dialog. The best theatre experience does all of these things. I admire the members of the Henri IV team so much for what they bring to this production: their creativity; the enthusiasm, excitement and happiness they exude in rehearsals; their camaraderie. I believe this all but guarantees one of those extraordinary productions that will stick with audiences long after the final bows.
Being with this group is a reminder of what I found so appealing about working in the theatre as well as what makes life better all around. And because of them, this middle-aged matriarchal monarch says, “Forget the book of fate! Get up and live!”