My youngest daughter just had her last performance as Viola disguised as Cesario in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. I got to see 3 of her 5 performances and this was easily the best one. All the performers were having fun with their roles and the audience was lively and enjoyed the show.
Stage performances are something I’ve grown to love ever since meeting my wife, and I truly enjoy seeing my daughter on stage. But the show itself is such a small part of what goes into a play. Three months of rehearsals with full weekends given up, and arriving home after 10pm four days during the week led to these performances. My daughter said after the show, “I have no idea what I’m going to do with all this time now that I’m done.”
Live performances are like that: Hours and hours of work leading to a series of shows, and then it’s over. Getting to be on stage in front of an audience is the reward, but alas it is fleeting, and the show comes to an end.
An artist finishes with an art piece that lives on. A performer presents their art work on stage and then it is over, and only memories remain. The performance must come to an end, a closing night, a last time to share what hours of preparation went into. The play starts with the well known verse, “If music be the food of love, play on.” But for the stage performer there comes a closing night, and the music comes to an end.
