Dear Eurydice,
Remember when we first met? I was afraid to
approach you in the beginning. You have lived for centuries. Your tale is ancient,
yet your words are new and alive. You now tell your story with your own strong
voice. The honor of giving sound to that voice is overwhelming and expectations
are high, especially the expectations I place on myself. Questions such as,”
Will I find your voice speaking honestly and bravely through my own?,”
“Can I capture you in a recognizable and original way?,” and “Do I have
the emotional strength to carry this titular role?,” pulsed through my mind.
Mixed with this trepidation was also bursting
excitement. A famed character from Greek mythology now adapted to speak with
such bravery and generosity, you are an iconic role to play. The range of
emotions you express are a welcome challenge for anyone honing their craft.
While the weight of the play is heavy, your lightness of spirit is joyful. How
often does one get to tackle such a paradox!?
This lightness and simplicity of your speech at
first belies the depth of your intellect and capacity to feel. You say you do
not need rhythm, but the rhythm of your heart is undeniable. The beats of your
emotions and the rhythmic pace of your journey from life to death, love and
loss; are as lyrical as Orpheus’ music. The poetry of your words and bravery in
your choices give me the opportunity to travel your road as I speak words which
not mine, but made mine. Ours. As we dance together.
And we have danced! Our friendship blossomed to
complete happiness with a power to feel and play that I have never felt before
in rehearsals. With the loving support of a creative team and surrounded
by an encouraging and talented cast, my fear quickly melted as I found freedom
to make mistakes and expand my physical and emotional abilities.
Eurydice, do you recall that secret I told you?
Crying was embarrassing for me. There was something in the release of tears
that always felt weak and shameful. I expect most people understand that
feeling. But you have taught me no emotion is weak. Your expression of love is
so free and your thoughts so open that to share them is a delight and not a
shame.
I have no embarrassment now in loving, laughing,
and crying. It means I am alive.
We are alive.
Your story reminds me that time is short. I hope
it reminds our audiences, too. It seems like yesterday that we said “hello.” Now
it is almost time to say “goodbye.” We should be good at that by now. We say
difficult “goodbyes” so many times in this play. Leave-taking should be our
forte. I confess I am still not a master of it. I struggle now to find the
right words to express myself. You have connected my heart to my voice, for
which I am eternally grateful.
I want the words to be perfect and saying
everything. I even thought saying it in a letter would be easier.
All I can say is thank you for letting me share
breath with you.
Sincerely (and always) yours,
Rebecca
Rebecca