On Performing

Three days to the showtime, so I guess it's high time to start thinking about it.

The last time I was to dance on a stage, I ended up in Tan Tock Seng Hospital's emergency unit.  Very frankly I don't know where I'll end up in this time. But just in case I manage to put my feet on the actual stage, well, I've been investing some time practicing.

Just like a band, dancers doing a collective dancing need to build a single item in synergy. Unlike a band, dancers are generally not given the privilege of having a conductor. The closest thing to it will be a collective effort of the musicians, and there's nothing much we can do except to breathe their rhythm and paint their notes in the visual dimension.

Assuming the role of a Performer is also inevitable. Whom am I performing for; the noble ruler of Tumapel, the audience (or at least part of it), those dear team mates or simply myself? The answer would most likely bear no importance to any other person, and each of our answers will most likely differ greatly.

Talking about the tricks of Performers, there's one spell one of my past conductors used to cast. During the essential few seconds before the sharp deep breath of the beginning, with his back already facing the public, he would look straight into our eyes and give his most sincere and warmest smile ever. Hidden from the public view, he'd lightly give his own left chest four silent and gentle, yet firm, taps. Tap-tap-tap-tap.

We've done everything we can in those countless rehearsals  I've yelled at all your mistakes and corrected them to your best at that time. Now leave them all behind and, yes, we enter this whole different realm. Together, now.

Tap-tap-tap-tap.