Extra-ordinary
On Pippin, ordinary lives, and saying goodbye to old dreams to find new ones (spoiler free!)
There are two versions of this weeks essay! Both essays are completely the same up until the end, where I discuss the end of the musical Pippin, which I would hate to spoil for you if you haven’t seen it! I learned this technique from who wrote two versions of the same essay for people who haven’t seen Everything Everywhere All at Once yet - like me! Thanks Tami!
This version has NO spoilers. Click here if you’re familiar with Pippin and want to read the essay with a few more plot details!
“Ordinary isn’t the lack of extraordinary. Ordinary is its whole other thing that has all of this beautiful cadence and rhythm and purpose and bond and magic.” - Amanda Doyle
In college, I wrote a short story centered around the musical, Pippin, in my ‘Process, Prose, and Pedagogy’ class. It’s one of the only assignments I’ve ever written without worrying about my grade very much. I forget what the prompt was - but it was definitely very open ended, because everyone in he class came up with something completely different.
Pippin is essentially the story of a young prince (named Pippin) looking for his life’s purpose. Throughout the show, Pippin explores various extraordinary settings and roles, with the help of a traveling troupe of performers led by none other than the leading player him/herself (depending on what version you’re watching. Ben Vereen originated the role in 1972, and Patina Miller led the Broadway revival from 2013-2014.) The fourth wall is constantly broken throughout the show. It’s very meta; a play within a play, if you will. Ex: We’re told off the bat that the actor playing Pippin is a new actor making his debut.
And if you’re looking for a full synopsis of Pippin, here you go.
My story, entitled, Stripping Down the Magic, is about a girl who gave up performing and moved to Chicago (remember that detail, it’s important.) with her partner, going to see a Broadway show for the first time since she left New York. That show happens to be Pippin. The girl has never seen the musical before, and is left fascinated and bewildered by the ending (which I was too, in real life, the first time I saw Pippin.) She replays the story in her head on the train ride home, while reflecting on her own life choices. Ultimately, she gains some peace and understanding of her decision to leave the actor's life behind for an “ordinary” life that she once rebuked and disdained.
Here’s an excerpt -
(Don’t be too critical, I was 19 when I wrote this! I’m sharing my teenage angst with you in short story form!)
I was going to be an actress. I was going to be a performer just like all the people on the stage in Pippin tonight, and all the other twenty something hopefuls in the city vying for parts. And it really did feel like my calling for a while…until it all just started getting so exhausting, and tedious, and it felt like work. I fell into this never ending circle of doubting myself and then having to convince myself that I was meant for this dream every day. That voice inside my head kept telling me “everyone doubts themselves on the way to the top, keep climbing, you’re talented, you’re good enough, you’ll get there.” It was almost like a mantra. I thought I was extraordinary too, so I kept plowing on with that little voice inside my head. That voice constantly told me that the fast track was the right track for me, and that it would all pay off when I took a bow on my first opening night, when everyone would finally recognize my talent (I was full of wonder lust and vanity back then, I know.)
At that time in my life, I couldn’t have been more different from my protagonist. I was starring in my first big college musical, an original production called HubCrawl, written by Evan Schlaich and Ethan Slater. l planned to go to London to study classical acting the following year. (And I did - it’s where I ended up meeting one of my wonderful friends who just happens to be playing the Leading Player in CHICAGO right now. Coincidence? I think not.)
In hindsight, I now realize that I wrote that story and then subconsciously lived it. I officially decided to switch from acting to playwriting back in 2021, but the seeds were planted long before then (Like when I took my first playwriting class in college, a semester after the class in which I wrote that short story. Or when I got my first New York Times review right after graduation, but found myself incredibly burnt out and unhappy with the actor lifestyle.)
So the question is, I never know if I’m writing my life or I’m living my writing. - Glennon Doyle
And that begs the obvious question…is my inevitable next step to move to Chicago like my character did, and let life fully imitate art…?
Okay, back to Pippin. We’ll talk about my switch from acting to writing and potential moving plans another time. For now, all I’ll say is that I may not be acting these days, but that doesn’t mean I’ll never perform again. No matter what I do, I’ll always be a performer at heart, and I’ll always be able to nail a Pas de Bourrée at a moment’s notice.
It was really very hard to not include every single song in Pippin this post, and link you to a million different performances. I exercised a lot of restraint. I deserve a medal.
The music is so evocative and powerful, even if you don’t know the plot. Morning Glow and Glory are practically musical theater gospel - somehow holy and completely sacrilegious in the best way possible.
And then there are the dance songs. Oh man. Your hips just take over when certain songs like Simple Joys play. The adrenaline and endorphins pumping through my veins as I blast the soundtrack while I write this make me want to find a Fosse themed workout class ASAP. (New Yorkers - let me know if these exist outside of super intense dance classes for aspiring performers!)
And wouldn't you
Rather be a left-handed flea
Or a crab on a slab at the bottom of the sea
Than a man who never learns how to be free?
Not 'til he's cold and dead*
*I used to think she was saying “golden days”, not “cold and dead” Very foreshadowing for people who know the show.
When I did a musical theater intensive years ago and we learned a Fosse combination, one of my classmates came up to me afterwards and told me that the look in my eyes was terrifying as I did the choreography to All that Jazz - one of my favorite compliments I’ve ever received as an actor (especially one who barely considers herself a dancer - I used to be able to fake it until I make it in a beginner dance call - and I had a triple pirouette for a DAY - but in reality, I was an ‘actor who moves.’
And then there are songs that unexpectedly make me weep, like No Time At All.
Before it's too late stop trying to wait
For fortune and fame you're secure of
For there's one thing to be sure of, mate:
There's nothing to be sure of!
Oh, it's time to start livin'
Time to take a little from this world we're given
Time to take time, cause spring will turn to fall
In just no time at all....
Okay. Maybe this essay is about my switch from acting to writing. Just a little.
Getting to see Sonia as the leading player was a dream come true. Every single one of the cast members did a spectacular job. I highly recommend catching the last performance’s this weekend if you’re in Chicago. (Learn more here!)
And I think I enjoyed it on a level I wasn’t quite able to when I saw the Broadway revival back in 2013, when I was constantly comparing myself to every single performer in every production I ever saw. The minute we got to a show, my friends and I would eagerly scan through actor’s biographies in playbills to see where they got their training and then go home and research the programs. Instead of just enjoying the music, I would obsess over whether or not the key was in my vocal range. I could barely enjoy a dance number without berating myself for not being a better dancer.
But that night in Chicago, I got to just sit back and enjoy the show.
I didn’t plan to have a personal epiphany, but hey, I’m a theater kid. AND I was also in town to surprise another one of my close friends from college for her graduate school graduation - it was an emotional weekend!
I’ll leave you with a poem that Glennon recited at her sister’s wedding, on making the ordinary come alive.
I love my ordinary life. I love not going to auditions anymore. I love writing on my own schedule, and taking walks in the park with a podcast to clear my head.
And sure, my life might not be completely ordinary. (I am a WRITER, after all.) But then again, none of ours really are. I think that’s the point.
Make the Ordinary Come Alive by William Martin.
Do not ask your children to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable, but it is a way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder and the marvel of an ordinary life. Show them the joy of tasting tomatoes, apples, and pears.
Show them how to cry when pets and people die, show them the infinite pleasure in the touch of a hand and make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.
Last thing - I am obviously not going to publish an essay about Pippin without shamelessly sharing my pictures with Matthew James Thomas and Patina Miller, from the revival of Pippin! I think I was so nervous when I met Patina Miller that I actually sputtered the words “people tell me we look alike!” (Which is true! People have told me this! Should we play sisters in a movie?) Ugh. Love them both. Matthew was also incredible in Time and the Conways and I’m quite upset that I didn’t get to see Patina in the recent revival of Into the Woods.)
This essay has stolen my heart! Here's to writing your life or living your writing - whichever comes first! 😉 And yes, once a performer, you are always a performer. But when performing (or anything we're passionate about) becomes "work" - it can lose its spark and fizzle out like a flat soda. Here's to you, my multi-talented friend, branching out and showing off all the different sides of your awesomeness! 🎉🎉 P.S. I just put my email to be notified when Pippin is in LA, and have the playlist blaring in the background.