This week Playbill.com launches Celeb PlayBlogger, a new feature that will run sporadically in PlayBlog. Our first guest celebrity blogger is Tony Award winner Victoria Clark, the dazzling singing actress who won her Tony for her performance in Lincoln Center Theater's production of The Light in the Piazza. Clark is back at LCT in Andrew Bovell's award-winning family drama When the Rain Stops Falling, which will officially open at the Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater March 8. Clark will blog all week; her final entry follows:
There won’t be trumpets. Snippets of Sondheim songs keep going through my head this morning. Perhaps that is because in 40 minutes I have to appear awake and chipper at a rehearsal room on the fourth floor of Avery Fisher Hall. I’ll be meeting Lonny Price there to work on the Sondheim Birthday celebration. (It has a better name than that, but I can never remember.) I am more than a tad tired. There won’t be whining. Every day a little death.
The charming song Lonny chose for me is a rare gem, only performed, as far as I know, 40 years ago, and sung by a very famous beloved lady. Someone that I, quite frankly, idolize. It’s kind of a surprise, but I can say that the snippet from my song has something to do with doing a job well. The line seems particularly ironic as I contemplate all the jobs I have to do well in the next two weeks. Get through the critics week at the play. Perform in the Sondheim event on March 15 and 16. Sing the role of Ma Joad in the opera of The Grapes of Wrath by Ricky Ian Gordon and Michael Korie at Carnegie Hall on March 22. And every other night, keep doing the play. It is just the way the schedule worked out. We haven’t got time, or more aptly, It’s like I’m losing my mind.
I have to leave in 13 minutes.
After all these years in the business of show, I am still wondering why it is that we all work so hard. I know, I know. This is why we are here, what we hope for. To express ourselves, to give breath and life to words and music, to inspire, grow, learn, change. And I believe all that. But can’t all that happen in the shower, or perhaps while I am asleep? I’m just a girl who can’t say no. Sorry, wrong lyricist. But it happens to be true.
And, seriously. I can sleep when I’m dead. That was what my grandmother always told me when I was home from college. When, after patiently waiting for me in the kitchen, coffee made, she would come into my room to wake me up. It was more important to visit with her, to share what was going on in our lives. She was right. And now, this is more important: I am the lucky girl who gets to give breath to all these beautiful words. By our stunning playwright Andrew Bovell, by Sondheim, Michael Korie and John Steinbeck. I am swimming in music by Sondheim and Ricky Ian Gordon. Bathing in poetry. Who needs trumpets?
Thank you to the artists working with me at this time who remind me why I wanted to be an actor. Susan Pourfar, who sits next to me in the dressing room, you are a river of love. Thank you Rod McLachlan, my wondrous scene partner. If I say anything too specific about you, I will cry on the keyboard, and spills and drops are not covered in my laptop insurance. Thank you David Cromer. Thank you company of When the Rain Stops Falling. Thank you Andrew Bovell. Thank you Ricky. Thank you Lonny. Thank you Mr. Sondheim. To all of you, and to the up-and-coming artists I haven’t met yet: If it comes from you, then it will be new. Give us more to see.