However, the very next day after the show closed, I found myself at auditions for a summer youth musical (for which I will act as music director), so I didn't have a lot of time to mourn the loss of this alter ego I had come to love.
Happily, I couldn't get away from the role that easily anyway.
I returned to school after my long weekend to students making comments like, "You did a great job in The King and I, etc., etc., etc." or "The dance in your purple dress was so good!" or "My favorite part was when you got all mad at the King and said, 'I shall say nothing more because I have nothing more to say!'"
One parent said her little girl, not quite school-age, kept asking, "When is Mrs. Duggan coming back out on stage?"
And every child loved the tantrum I threw ("Shall I Tell You What I Think") in my corset (or probably more accurately, in my underwear).
The speech pathologist told me there was general buzz in the faculty lounge after the show opened.
"I walked in during three different lunch hours, and the teachers were talking about your performance every time."
This general enthusiasm amongst my school community reminded me of one of the main reasons I accepted this role in the first place - to give my students the opportunity to truly experience the performing arts.
My family and friends had some interesting insights as well.
During intermission, my father and brother apparently had the following conversation (as overheard by my husband, Dan):
Steve: "I've seen her punch a pillow like that (referring to the aforementioned temper tantrum scene)."
Dad: "Yup, I've seen all those facial expressions. And I've heard that 'no' before (referring to the many times I said 'no' to the King emphatically throughout the show)."
Another friend of mine said about the picture below:
"Gee, when I worked with Becky, we all bowed toward her."
To which I replied, "Ha ha! That's the way it should be!"
Now Dan follows me around the house reciting dialogue from the show at the most inopportune times. I suppose that's what I get for making Dan run lines with me for the last three months.
For example, when I asked Dan if my father wanted me to call him "right now," Dan replied, "Now? Now is always the best time!"
During a slight disagreement, Dan said, "This is not scientific!"
I scowled at him, and he responded, "What is this face you put on?"
(If you hadn't already guessed, Dan was quoting the King.)
On a more serious note, this feels like my final goodbye to Anna. I will be 35 in a couple of weeks, after all. Chances that I will look young enough to play the role the next time the opportunity arises are slim to none.
And perhaps saying goodbye to this role is especially hard because every time I heard the overture from my stage right perch, I felt my mom, and saying goodbye to this role is a little like saying goodbye to her all over again.
Diva flowers from my students |
For more The King and I adventures, check out:
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