Thoughts on Acting

When I first arrived at Barnard College, my singular acting credit was Choir Member #4 in a community theatre production of Footloose. I had no intention of pursuing theatre as a major or as a career, having dedicated all of my spare time in high school to performing in a brass ensemble or to writing novel after novel. 

However, one week into my freshman year, I saw a half-torn poster, advertising auditions for Anton Chekhov’s The Seagull (in translation by Anya Reiss). On a whim, I decided to go. From the moment I first read through a crinkled side to the moment I was ultimately cast as Irina Arkadina, I felt as though electricity was coursing through my body. The power, emotional catharsis, and vulnerability I felt while performing was unparalleled, and I loved it with my entire being. Through the act of portraying another, I truly felt and understood my own body and breath for perhaps the first time in my entire life. 

Since then, I have involved myself in theatre in every way possible—as a puppetmaster, director, stage manager, playwright, designer, and, of course, as an actor. I dedicated my time, energy, and life to the craft of theatre, training with as many professors as possible and learning about all aspects of theatre. 

I celebrated modern pieces—one of my favorite learning experiences was working on a scene from Ruby Rae Spiegel’s 2015 play, Dry Land, with Professor Gisela Cardenas—and also fell in love with the aching, pulsating language of the past. I learned about Molière, the history of French clowning, and post-colonial drama. Every bit of literature I could find on Yiddish folk theatre was quickly consumed by my eyes and heart. 

It is in performing that I find not only intellectual stimulation, but also catharsis. It is there that I find a release for the twisted, beautiful, and delighted inner world that has followed me around for so many years, and where I discovered the unadulterated joy of bringing those thoughts and feelings to life.

When I see an audience member laugh, or brush a tear away from their eye, or shift uncomfortably in their seat, I know I have accomplished something special: the release of true human emotion, the connection between the body and the brain, and the experience of something new and unusual. That is why I act, and that is what I hope to accomplish, again and again, throughout my career as an actor.