It was a really beautiful school and a small one – a little
women’s college on a hill, the kind that you don’t find any more. Even that
one has expanded and started accepting men and has become a university now. When I arrived there it was like a place
from another time, and Pittsburgh had a nice feeling too – not quite a city,
but still a city, not snobby in the way the East Coast can be – much warmer and
more homey. Because it was such a small school, I was able to get lead roles in
the plays from the beginning, something that wouldn’t normally happen for a
freshman acting student anywhere else. I had wanted to be an actress from the earliest time I can remember. My family used to go away every summer to a little
town in Rhode Island, and there was a woman there, the mother of my summertime
beach friend, who was an actress. She was so glamorous and elegant, with a
melodious voice - I never saw her act, but that didn’t matter to me – I thought
she was wonderful and I wanted to be just like her.
When I was about nine years old I read a book called Tall
and Proud, about a girl who has polio and learns how to walk again through
learning how to ride a horse. I’ve loved horses all my life, and always had a
strong connection to them. In our summer place I used to go riding at a crazy barn
called Jerry’s. Jerry let the older kids hang out and party, and the younger
kids could always ride horses for cheap. I don’t know what he did for a living,
but that didn’t matter to me – Jerry’s place was like another kind of world
where horses and kids and teenagers could run amok. We had neighbors in my home
town who had a horse farm. Those were racing horses, and the husband was a
trainer. I couldn’t ride them because they were all thoroughbreds and high
strung and high priced, but he let me visit with them whenever I wanted to and
taught me how to feed them apples and carrots out of my hand.
When I read the book Tall and Proud, I got it into my head
to write to the publisher of the book – or maybe it was the authors, I don’t
remember now – but I wrote to someone – ah, yes, I do remember, I wrote to a
movie studio – MGM I think – to tell them how much I loved the book and that I thought
it would make a great movie, and I wanted to star in it if they ever made it. I
got a stamp from my mother and did it all on the sly – I didn’t want her to
know what I was doing because I didn’t want to feel silly if nothing ever came
of it. Besides, it was my secret dream and I didn’t want to let anyone in on
it. Nothing ever came of it, but I did do plays in my home town community
theater and in a boys’ school the next town over. But when I told my mother I
wanted to be an actress she was really surprised I think. I went off to a
liberal arts college and maybe she thought it was going to blow over, and we never
really discussed it much except for the usual stuff about her not thinking it
was a good idea to go into a field where I couldn’t have a “real” job. And she
was probably right, but I’ve honestly never regretted that choice. I had a lot of
good years in the theater in New York, and if I’d never done it, I always would
have regretted it. Some of the best friends I’ve ever had came from that world,
and some of the best times too.
When I was in Pittsburgh that first year, a man came to the
first play I was in that first semester and I met him at the cast party. He was
a local Pittsburgh actor who they brought in to do plays from time to time when
they needed a man. He knew some of the other students and they always invited him to their shows. He was such a kind and fun and loving person, and he took me
seriously as an actor, something that was very important to me then. He talked
about my role in the play which had not been anything very serious – it was a
parody of Bible stories of all things – God really is funny that way - before I
ever knew Him, there He was, showing up in the thing I loved to do most of all.
I had played the snake in the Garden of Eden and if I remember correctly I came
out in a jogging suit. Not the most high brow of plays to be sure, yet here was
this kind man, a professional actor, who took the time to talk to me about the
role as if it was Shakespeare.
After that play I was in several more with roles that were
much bigger and richer. My new friend talked me through them all, giving me
acting tips and notes after rehearsals and performances, sharing the wisdom of
one actor to another. Acting is a very strange art form in that we create the
art with ourselves and other people. We start with a play that was written by a
playwright, who we sometimes can know, but often we don’t. The play is a
blueprint for the roles we’ll create, but we often can't ask the playwright what things mean and how he or she meant them to look and to sound, and so we work on it together with other
actors, a director, and the props and lighting and sound designers and try to figure it out. What we
develop can never be repeated again. I’ve been part of long running shows when
people left and others came in, and it’s always different, even though the new
people learn the role from the person before and even when the stage manager is
keeping strong notes. People are people are people – we’re all different and
unique and we bring ourselves into those roles and nothing can make our
performance the same as anyone else’s. Even the same actor can change in a role over time, and different nights can be different, a matinee can be different from the evening performance because the audience is a part of the performance too. How they respond, whether they laugh or cry or walk out or sit as if they're in a stupor - everything affects a performance, even the time of the year and the weather. Having a friend who has experience and an
eye and ear for the theater is a priceless gift. We learn acting by doing – we can
study it and we should if we’re serious about it – but those times we spend
with a good actor friend can mean the difference between a good performance and
a great one.
I remember one play in particular that I was having a really hard time with. There was an actor that had been brought in because we needed a
man, and it wasn’t my friend. This other actor was a good actor, but for some
reason I felt like he was acting outside of me. It was like we were in two
different plays and there was no connection. It was a two character play – a one
act by J.M. Barrie, an English drawing room comedy called “The Twelve Pound Look,”
about a woman who goes to work for a man as a hired secretary and it turns out
that she is his former wife. She left him because she felt stifled in their
life together, even though he was a wealthy man and she had everything
financially and socially that she could ever want, and she chose to go out to
work for herself to have her freedom. The twelve pounds refers to the typewriter she buys - the cost of it in English pounds at the time, and probably also the weight of it, though I don't remember now. I love the play, and I didn’t know why I
couldn’t get my grounding in that role. Something wasn’t working and I couldn’t
figure out what. My friend got it when he came to see a rehearsal. He said I
wasn’t standing up to the actor because he was taking the stage. He was a professional
and I was letting my knowledge of his professional status overpower me. The
woman in the play has the upper hand, and I wasn’t taking it. I remember talking to him about how I felt like I couldn't take the upper hand, that I couldn't take the stage because of my youth and inexperience, but my friend said that none of that mattered. What mattered was whether I chose to take the stage or not, what mattered was the way I felt about myself on that stage in that role. I had a role and I could fulfill it or not, it had nothing to do with anything else except my own choice. My friend saved
my performance with his words of wisdom. I got my ground and took it and kept
it, and never forgot that lesson.
There are people who come along in our lives who help us
through a certain time and give advice for a certain thing, but it’s advice we
carry with us forever. The lessons they teach us go deeper than the activity of
the moment – the play we’re in or the thing we’re doing is really incidental,
and it reflects a larger lesson we need to learn about life. The story “Tall
and Proud,” is not just about a girl and her horse, it is about learning how to
live again, how to overcome pain and disappointment and the judgments that
others make about us that threaten to hold us back from the deepest dreams we
have for our lives. The horse in the story is a racehorse that was crippled from
a fall. I know from my years of horse talk and riding that a crippled race horse
is considered useless. Sometimes they kill them when they fall after a race –
they say it’s to put them out of their agony, but I don’t think that’s true. I
think they just don’t want to have the expense of the care and feeding of a
horse that can’t make them money any more. But it’s that horse that helps this
girl who is expected never to walk again to walk again. It is their bond that
helps her to heal.
When my friend helped me with my play that time – and all
the other plays and all the other times he helped me with his wisdom and love and support over the years – he wasn’t just helping me stand up to
an actor who was intimidating me, he was letting me know that I didn’t need to
let myself be intimidated by anyone. It didn’t matter who the other person was –
whether they were older or more experienced, a man or a woman, a teacher, a
star, the director, my boss – my friend helped me see that who I am is important too, and that I am
just as strong as anyone else if I can believe in my own heart that I am.
In Joshua chapter 1, God speaks to Joshua and tells him
several times to be strong and of courage because He will be with him wherever
he goes. In Jeremiah chapter 1, He does the same thing for Jeremiah. Jeremiah
says that he is too young to play the role of a prophet, but God says that He
is sending him and He will be with him, so he does not need to be afraid. Sometimes
those words are so important for us to hear – that we don’t need to be afraid –
that we have strength that we do not see. Sometimes we let ourselves be
overtaken by our own fears of failure and low self worth, and the words of a
good friend can help us stand tall and proud, and face the giants we see in
front of us.
After I left that little women’s college and transferred to
one in New York, my friend kept in touch with me. I’d visit sometimes and when he
came to New York he’d invite me to dinner and a Broadway play. I had one of the
most memorable evenings of my life one summer when he invited me to come see
him in the city. He was staying at the Omni Berkshire Hotel, and he let me stay
in his room on a fold out bed they brought in that was more comfortable than
any bed I’ve ever slept in before or since. He took me to the Four Seasons, the
best restaurant I know of, and one that is still my favorite, even after having
had the opportunity to try others in that league over the years, many times with that same friend. At the time I’d
never been to such an elegant and beautiful place, and it was and still is a highlight of my
life. They made me hollandaise sauce at the table! I’ve made it myself, but I’d
never seen that done before. And the tray of desserts was divine – so many
wonderful things it was difficult to choose. I’m sure I had something chocolate because that's always my favorite,
but if my friend did what he usually does, he may have ordered something else
just so I could try it too. After that exquisite dinner he took me to see Guys
and Dolls, a wonderful musical anywhere, but that cast was astounding. I’d
never been in a Broadway theater before and we had orchestra seats, the best in
the house.
My friend was always doing things like that when I was still
in Pittsburgh – he took me to the ballet and out to dinner all the time. And he
is funny and makes me laugh so much, even when we are on the phone - his company is very special, and he is very
special to me. He doesn’t travel so much any more, and I haven’t been back to
Pittsburgh in years, but when I call him I’m always blessed because he is
someone I can always talk to about theater and art and movies and life and always get a good word, a good laugh, and know that someone out there loves me - that I'm worth someone taking time out of their busy life for.
It’s a rare gift when someone can make you feel like you’re
special, like you deserve the best in life. It’s a rare gift when someone gives
of their time and their gifts to help you grow and learn to live your life in a
way that is full of life. Without my friend, I never would have dreamed of
going to The Four Seasons – I never would have known what it was. And if I had
ever heard of it one day, I never would have thought I could go there. I took
my mother there once, years after my friend had taken me, and the only reason
she was able to have that experience was because my friend had given it to me
and let me know it was possible. Because of my friend, I learned that all
things are possible. I learned that I don’t have to be afraid or feel less than
or not good enough. Because of my friend I can stand tall and proud wherever I
am, and I thank him for that gift from the bottom of my heart.
Blessings,
Jannie Susan
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