As I step into the wings, the electric atmosphere washes over me. The crowd is a sea of expectant faces, their collective energy palpable even from behind the curtain. Ben Whishaw, playing Vladimir, stands in his cubbyhole space, looking beautiful and awkward at the same time. We share a hug, our eyes locking as we both feel the adrenaline coursing through us. The familiar rush of pre-show nerves is back, but it's tempered by excitement and anticipation.
My breathing remains steady, but my heart is racing with the thrill of performing again after five years away from the stage. This feeling was my bread and butter for decades, and I've missed it dearly. As I glance over at Ben, we share a moment of understanding, our hands clasped together in the darkness. The call comes from the deputy stage manager, Sophie Rubenstein: "That's front of house clearance, guys." Terror surges inside me, but we're off.
As we step onto the platform, Ben takes his position under the tree, while I settle into mine. Just before I sit, I notice Jenny Grand, our company stage manager, waiting to rotate the platform. I give her a peace sign and wave it goodbye as we begin. The curtain rises, and the crowd erupts into laughter and applause. My mind goes blank, but Ben's voice brings me back on track.
The first act unfolds with Jonathan Slinger's Pozzo delivering a masterclass in vocal control, effortlessly navigating his character's stream-of-consciousness monologue. Tom Edden's Lucky is another highlight, drawing the crowd in with his charm and wit. I'm struck by their skill and artistry, my own nervous energy momentarily forgotten.
As we take our final bow, basking in the adoration of the crowd, I catch a glimpse of the sea of faces. Young and old, black, white, brown – all united in their love for us. The curtain falls, and we collapse into an elated-exhausted group hug. I burst into tears, and then they're gone as quickly as they came.
Behind the scenes, Beckett's masterpiece has once again captured the hearts of its audience. As a performer, it's moments like these that remind me why I do what I do – to connect with others, to bring alive the words of a genius, and to be part of something greater than myself.
My breathing remains steady, but my heart is racing with the thrill of performing again after five years away from the stage. This feeling was my bread and butter for decades, and I've missed it dearly. As I glance over at Ben, we share a moment of understanding, our hands clasped together in the darkness. The call comes from the deputy stage manager, Sophie Rubenstein: "That's front of house clearance, guys." Terror surges inside me, but we're off.
As we step onto the platform, Ben takes his position under the tree, while I settle into mine. Just before I sit, I notice Jenny Grand, our company stage manager, waiting to rotate the platform. I give her a peace sign and wave it goodbye as we begin. The curtain rises, and the crowd erupts into laughter and applause. My mind goes blank, but Ben's voice brings me back on track.
The first act unfolds with Jonathan Slinger's Pozzo delivering a masterclass in vocal control, effortlessly navigating his character's stream-of-consciousness monologue. Tom Edden's Lucky is another highlight, drawing the crowd in with his charm and wit. I'm struck by their skill and artistry, my own nervous energy momentarily forgotten.
As we take our final bow, basking in the adoration of the crowd, I catch a glimpse of the sea of faces. Young and old, black, white, brown – all united in their love for us. The curtain falls, and we collapse into an elated-exhausted group hug. I burst into tears, and then they're gone as quickly as they came.
Behind the scenes, Beckett's masterpiece has once again captured the hearts of its audience. As a performer, it's moments like these that remind me why I do what I do – to connect with others, to bring alive the words of a genius, and to be part of something greater than myself.