That’s what I was doing on Saturday evening. The beret was a deep pinky mauve, not the bright red I would often wear in any kind of performance. This beret was part of the ritual, the armour. The show was ‘The Vagina Monologues’ and it was in our Pole Barn, a rehearsed reading, seated, with scripts, to raise money for a sexual violence charity – New Pathways. The six of us raised £750 – a satisfying figure.
On balance, the evening was a success. You can’t please everyone and, of course, some of the material is disturbing, difficult to hear, but there were lots of positive comments. I’m glad we did it. It’s my third time – well, third time for three of us, including the director – but the two previous occasions were over twelve years ago, when I was shorter in the tooth, and much more accustomed to the stage. Work, or rather this work, at this place, Ceridwen Centre, has made performing a far rarer occurrence for me. So yes, I was scared. In any kind of group endeavour, it’s the fear of letting down the others, the team, as much as the fear of letting yourself down. You don’t want to be the weakest link!
The other hats merely added to the fear. When you, (in this case, I), host any kind of happening, you want it to be well-received by the audience, punters, guests, customers, a success, you want it to be as glitch-free as possible, you want it to achieve whatever the business/financial goals of the event are. You want it to go well. I was wearing a hosting hat and an organising hat, as well as the pink beret.
It’s a bit like hosting your child’s wedding at your own wedding venue, (which we’ve done). Very tricky being both fully present in the moment and having an overview of the whole process. How do directors of huge feature films manage to star in them as well? It does happen. More like multi-existing than multi-tasking. They have my respect. Hats off!
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