An extract
”Out, out brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” [1]
My favourite quote goes through my head at 5.31 AM. I’m absolutely freezing as I’m waiting for a train in the middle of fucking High Barnet (yes it is indeed the end of the Northern Line and yes you could argue that it’s barely in London). The warmth of thousands sweaty, stressed out bodies has not yet heated up the underground station, so my breath is depressingly visible.
Once again I got out bed at a godforsaken hour in pursuit of another part, in another play, alongside another herd of hopeful souls, that would all have their hopes crushed by the end of the day. The part that I should be auditioning for is as one of the witches in an actual West End production of Macbeth. Although I’m actually auditioning for Macbeth herself, the part that I was born to play. After I starred in an avant-garde off West End production as Macbeth, I’m definitely experienced enough for them to cast me – a woman – for the lead role of this notorious Shakespeare play. I got this in the bag, the reviews from the last show speaks for itself.
Mrs. Goldstein, my classical theatre teacher at drama school once asked us what our dream part was. Not even considering the question, I confidently answered Macbeth; whereto the entire class ridiculed me. ‘It obviously has to be a realistic part, dear, no one would possibly cast you as a male lead’ Mrs. Goldstein said with her fake, posh accent. We all knew she was born and raised in Peckham. Why can’t women play men, when men played women in Shakespeare’s time? I reconsidered the question. Studying classical theatre, it has been hammered into my head that Shakespeare is the only ‘real’ form of theatre.
I wanted to become an actress ever since we put on a production of Romeo and Juliet in my primary school, Stamford Green Primary School. I got the lead because I was the only one who could stop picking my nose long enough to actually take the poison at the end of the play. Ever since then I’ve been a Shakespirer. But I have never been able to find my ideal female part. I played Juliet, Lady Macbeth and even Ophelia, but none of these parts really made me feel as if I’d reached my full potential.
In the fall production at drama school, our Macbeth, Timmy Taylor, got the chickenpox the day before opening night. Typical of Timmy to sail through life, without having had chickenpox as a child. Anyway, no one knew his lines except moi, Lady Macbeth, so I got to play Macbeth and little Olivia from the year below, with her mouse brown hair, got her dream come true of playing Lady Macbeth. The fact that she dropped out of drama school a couple of months later, and is now working for her daddy’s law firm in the big city is a different matter. I got to play Macbeth.
I soon realised this was the part for me, and my opening night as Macbeth was just the beginning of my long career as one Macbeth after the other. I was horribly mistaken. Two days later, Timmy’s chickenpox was no longer contagious and he was back in the part and I was back to being his wife. Olivia was heartbroken, but that was nothing compared to what I was feeling. I mean, Olivia made a great Lady Macbeth, but my Macbeth was… phenomenal! Much better than Timmy’s, but according to Mrs. Goldstein ‘Macbeth simply has to be played by a male, ‘tis the only way to truly grasp the essence of Shakespeare’. And that attitude is exactly what I have been dealing with my entire life. Macbeth knew what I was feeling. He didn’t appreciate someone taking what belonged to him, and just as he knew he would one day be king, I know that playing Macbeth is my destiny.
As I’m standing in the middle of High (fucking) Barnet, on my way to yet another audition in Covent Garden, I think ‘Why I do it’? I finally get there, though the tube was late (at 5.31 AM, like what?) and I start warming up. Around me all the other hopefuls are trying to do the same. You can easily spot the rookies, who sneak looks to try and copy the exercises we pros are doing. I recognise some of the pros from drama school. But it’s an unspoken rule not to acknowledge each other at auditions, because you need to be 100% focused and drama school people will mess with your head.
[1] Shakespeare, W, Macbeth, Act V, Scene V
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