Editorial Notes, 2024.

You don't have ideas, you develop them.
- Swizec Teller

This was originally written for emerging performers who attended the Circus Freaks' Open Stage Project. It appeared on the site's blog.

Seven years after that publication, I produced a video workshop for the International Thespian Festival expanding on these ideas which I entitled The Joy of Failure.

I continue to offer various forms of this workshop today,

Barring safety considerations of live performance during a continuing pandemic, I stand by the advice given.

Dear 'Fraidy Cat

2013-04-04

Dear Russ,
Have you ever been afraid of the stage?
If so how did you overcome your fear even if only for a moment?
Signed,
Fraidy Cat

Dear Fraidy Cat,

First, a confession: Part of my reason for creating the Open Stage was to help me get over a fully-debilitating case of stage fright.

The magic secret I have learned over the two years of working on the show is that you can summarize “how to get over stage fright” in three simple terms: Rehearsal, Connection and Momentum.

Rehearsal means preparation and practice of your art. Never put anything on a stage that you aren’t completely ready to perform. This idea is sometimes referred to as “the invisible work” of theater.*

Another confession: I’m actually a complete klutz. if I ever do anything that looks even remotely graceful, it’s the result of many hours of focused practice.

More importantly, when the fear hits (and it will) your preparation can take over like a co-pilot. The facts of your performance will be in your emotional and muscle memory. When you freeze in fear, take a deep breath and let all that practice act as a map to keep you from getting lost out there on the big scary stage.

Connection is the idea that live theater is entirely about being there with an audience. Part of this is getting past the notion of perceiving that audience as your adversary.

Because confession is alleged to be good for the soul: This was actually a revolutionary concept for me after years of being an unreasonably angry person.

A performing partner of mine by the name of William “Big Bill” Ewoldsen once said that no sane person one ever walks into a show hoping it will suck. As a participant or attendee of an event, they are by definition on the side of the performer who is brave enough to take the stage.

Once you have that in mind, it’s simply a matter of taking a moment to connect with your team. Rather than it being a room full of strangers waiting for you to screw up, it’s suddenly a cheerleading squad rooting for you to be as awesome as you possibly can.

The stage, without an audience on your side, can be a terrifyingly lonely place. Realizing that everyone in the room has the same goal did a lot to calm that inexplicable dread for me.

So part three. Momentum.

Get up there. Do it. Stop making excuses and get on a stage. Now.

Screw up. Bomb completely. Then analyze the mistakes and fix them. Then, just before you develop an ego about the process, get back on a stage and do it all over again.

Ultimately, I think you have to re-frame your perception of performance. Instead of your time on stage being the final product, it’s nothing more than a showcase of where you are right now in your process as a performing artist.

It’s just a moment, but you do have to take that moment. Without it, there’s no deadline pressure. There’s no performance to analyze and improve upon. Momentum is getting up there and doing the damn thing, whatever it is, over and over until you get better at it.

In all truth, a better question than “how do I overcome stage fright?” is to ask “how do I become a better performer so stage fright doesbn't stop me?”

And that’s easy to answer, because I just told you.

Do the invisible work until your brain and muscles ache. Cheat at every show by filling the audience with people who love you. Screw up often, and learn from it.

And never, ever, lose momentum.

-R.

Fun Fact

This email conversation actually happened, and ultimately inspired a series of stories I shared at the Open Stage. The monologues were drawn from my own experiences, and in their own rambling way covered the broad topics outlined in the letter above.

Special thanks to the internet archive for hosting these: