On the first day of our orientation here at USJ, we were told that Monsters was one of the most popular shows in the park. We were told that there were people who came weekly, daily and sometimes hourly to see our production. We were told that they would get to know the routes we take through the park to get to and from our venue. We were told they would try to offer us gifts and that it was in our best interest to politely decline.
It is one thing to hear about the superfans. It is another thing entirely to experience the superfans firsthand. Our first show on Saturday really opened my eyes to the phenomenon. I was surprised and bewildered when I realized that most of the people in the first 4 or 5 rows of the audience were doing every step of the choreography with us from their seats. At first it surprised me and took me out of my show for a moment. I quickly regained focus when I realized that these people probably knew the show better than I did at this point, and that I had better get it right because they would be sure to know if I missed anything.
The next show came, and I saw many of the same faces in those first few rows. This started to make me even more nervous for a moment, but the anxiety passed when I realized how much they were enjoying it. Everywhere I looked in the 800 seat house, there was a sea of faces smiling from ear to ear, clapping and singing along with the music. They are incredibly fun to perform for because they LOVE the show so much. Every single superfan in the audience knew that we were a brand new cast. Everybody came with eager expectation to meet the new group and choose their favorite monsters from this year's lineup. I was baffled when friends posted links on my facebook page to superfan's blogs which had already been inundated with beautiful photos from that day's performances.
It's strange. I had been told that there was a celebrity status of sorts here in Osaka linked with being a USJ performer. I have never felt more like a rock star in my life. Don't get me wrong, I'm not being chased by screaming fans and paparazzi, (or whatever the japanese word for paparazzi might be,) but I do notice people watching me as I walk through the park. I was even stopped for a photograph with a fan's young daughter on my second day of performances. I was dumbfounded that this woman could recognize me under the low brim of my hat and sweats. It's such a drastic difference from the dramatic make-up, massive curly wig, fishnets and high heeled boots I wear in the show. Not to mention the fact that I had only appeared 4 times total on the UML stage and I was ALREADY being recognized. It's flattering, to say the least.
I don't understand how a 20 minute show in a theme park can bring people so much joy that it keeps them coming back time, after time, after time. Part of me wonders what may be missing from their lives that they assign such a significant role to the Monsters show and the performers in it. But then, I remember that people like the superfans are the reason I do what I do. If coming into a crowded theme park and watching me sing "I Will Survive" 5 times a day brings a little sunshine into the lives of these people, then I gladly give them my all at every single performance. After all, their smiles, cheering and applause bring more joy to my heart than would probably make sense to most people. Who am I to judge?
Monday, March 22, 2010
Superfans
Posted by Leigh Cara at 7:54 AM 0 comments
Labels: fans, Japan, monsters, Osaka, performer, performing, show, theme park, universal studios, usj
Friday, March 12, 2010
A Grateful Heart
I wouldn't trade what I do for anything in the world. It feeds my soul in every hippy-dippy way imaginable. I, essentially, get paid to sing, dance and play dress up. I get to walk out on stage and entertain people. It doesn't matter what kind of show I'm doing or how long or short it is. From the time the lights come up on stage, to the time the final curtain closes, I get the unique privilege of taking the people in that audience on a journey. Sometimes I make them laugh, sometimes I make them cry. Sometimes they are impressed by the spectacle of the lights, the pyro or the sound system booming around them. But every single time, those people filling the seats of the auditorium get to forget about whatever it is that is going on in their lives and for a short time, simply sit back and be entertained. It is so very humbling to know that I get to spend my life making this kind of an impact on thousands upon thousands of people.
Doing what I do, I get the opportunity to travel, spend time in amazing places I would have never thought to visit, and meet incredible people from all different walks of life in the process. It is so invigorating to be living here in the Kaigandori House surrounded by passionate, quirky and slightly eccentric performers from all over the globe. My cast has already become my family. So long as there is not any kind of childish and petty competition going on (which thankfully, there isn't here with my Monsters cast), performers are very good at taking care of each other. We have to be. We're gypsies who are constantly leaving our friends and family behind, so we bond deeply and immediately in order to support each other and fill up those lonely places in our lives. We have new and exciting experiences together as we explore our new surroundings and create memories that will become the stories we tell for the rest of our lives. How many people get the opportunity to lead such a unique life?
I count myself incredible blessed to have the talent, the opportunity and the freedom to take advantage of every adventure that presents itself. I am at the very brink of this chapter in Japan and I can already tell this is going to be a time that has incredible impact on me and shapes my life. Working in a theme park is going to build up my stamina and endurance. Doing 5 and 6 high energy rock n' roll shows in a day is going to challenge me as a singer, dancer, performer and artist. I'll do this show more than any other show I've done up to this point in my life. I'm going to have to learn to reinvent it and give each audience the maximum experience they deserve. My ability to persevere is going to be stretched and forced to grow simply in the fact that I will be in one place for 13 months. (That may not seem like a big deal, but it is a challenge for one such as myself who has the spirit of a wanderer.) I have this time away from home to make some decisions about what I want my life to look like when I do come back. This job is affording me the opportunity to return home debt free and start my life in any city, focus and direction that I please. I am meeting people here that will help to shape me as a person, an artist and an individual. This year is going to be one of tremendous growth.
I am simply overwhelmed with gratitude.
Posted by Leigh Cara at 11:15 PM 0 comments
Labels: adventure, blessing, gratitude, performer, performing, theme park, travel
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Seat warmers, sound machines and vending machine lattes
Posted by Leigh Cara at 4:46 AM 1 comments
Labels: adventure, Japan, Osaka, performer, theatre, theme park, travel
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The Ultimate Test
It's a funny thing: the dynamic between men and women. With adulthood comes a whole new set of rules (and exceptions to them) in this game of love we are all clamoring to play. We realize that things are not nearly as black and white as we once believed them to be when our heads were filled with the image of the ideal romance painted by every one of our favorite childhood fairytales. With adulthood comes an understanding that though the basic framework of the game remains the same, the rules have changed entirely.
In today’s world, one’s lifestyle is often completely defined and dictated by their career path. Mine is no exception. I work as a professional entertainer and while I love what I do, it is not exactly conducive to building and maintaining committed relationships. Not in the conventional sense, anyway. People who work in the entertainment industry have long since come to peace with the fact that distance is an inevitable hardship they will have to endure if they ever hope to be a part of something lasting. In order to survive in this kind of dating environment, one must develop a certain casual approach in the earliest stages of courtship. Due to the fact that working performers are rarely in one place for longer than four to six months at a time, they must learn to appreciate any time they get to spend with someone they care for at face value. While passions often develop quickly and run deeply between these artistic types, they must understand that they can’t really trust their feelings until they have stood the test of time and distance. One thing that is very common of interpersonal relationships among performers, (theatre performers, especially) is that due to the nature of our jobs, we are constantly moving from one temporary community to another. We have grown very accustomed to developing deep emotional ties at an accelerated rate (due, in part to the exorbitant amount of time spent together in the rehearsal process) and having to say goodbye to our new found friends just as quickly. Romantic relationships within this realm reflect much of the same pattern. Often, these affairs fizzle as quickly as they were ignited.
Occasionally, one will find that they’ve stumbled upon a romance that is worth exploring beyond the end of the performance contract. Then comes the question of whether or not to remain exclusive in spite of the physical distance. No matter what decision a couple reaches about this matter, they will endure their own unique brand of heartache. If they choose to remain entirely committed, they will no doubt suffer great pains from the separation. They will, however, be able to take comfort in the knowledge that their significant other is not seeking the company of anybody else. Another approach is to leave the relationship undefined. To freely acknowledge their feelings for one another yet remain open to whatever (or whomever) may come along in the other’s absence. While this method awards each party certain freedoms, it can be a breeding ground for insecurity and distrust. It is important to remember that though it very closely resembles a relationship, it is missing a vital factor: commitment. It is crucial to keep things in perspective and guard one’s heart if they choose to move forward in this type of arrangement.
As grim as either of these two scenarios may seem, there are the rare occasions when time and distance do not serve as a means of tearing two such people apart but instead solidify their union. The funny thing about the heart is that is knows what it wants. No amount of separation can convince it otherwise when it has chosen to devote itself to another. There is a point at which we must choose to let go and trust that if it is meant to be, it will be no matter what odds are stacked against our promised happily ever after.
Posted by Leigh Cara at 12:06 AM 1 comments
Labels: long distance, performer, relationships, theatre