I’ve just got a part in my next show. It’s ‘The Taming of the Shrew’.
Now before I go on, I should point out that the last Shakespeare play I was in, I played the part of a servant. Then of course there was my role in the pantomime where apart from the joys of being a dragon I was also, yes, yet another servant; this time a boy. Well it was pantomime after all.
So here I am, fresh from audition, cast as…yes, a servant and (this being Shakespeare) a male one at that.
Now, I’m actually quite happy about this. It’s going to be a lot of fun to do and I intend to enjoy every second; but it does tend to make one wonder.
At what point do I start to question why directors look at me and think ‘servant’ and even more interestingly ‘boy’. I did, admittedly, want to be a boy when I was eleven but nature made it quite clear that I didn’t have the genes for that; or, it turns out, the singing voice, although I guess an alto isn’t the ‘girliest’ of voices either.
Indeed what with my geeky tendencies, short hair, lack of makeup and general failure to wear dresses (unless they are ball gowns) maybe I fit the ‘boy’ mould better than I thought.
Hmmm, maybe I should worry more about ‘servant‘!