Lost in the Moment

They say that when an actor reaches the pinnacle of the craft, the actor is no longer acting.

They aren’t pretending to be inside the scene. They are living in it.

For those few moments, they stop trying to become the character and simply are the character. The emotions are real. The relationships are real. The circumstances feel real—and the audience believes them because the performer believes them first.

The same thing can happen in every theatrical discipline.

A dancer who is fully immersed in a piece may not present a technically perfect performance. An extension may fall just short. A grand jeté may not be executed precisely as it was rehearsed.

But if the dancer is completely connected to the music, the story and the emotion of the moment, the audience may never notice the imperfection.

They’re too busy feeling something.

Technique matters. It gives performers the tools, discipline and confidence necessary to communicate. But technique is the vehicle—not the destination.

The destination is the moment.

I’ve often said that I would rather hear someone sing out of tune with feeling than sing perfectly with no emotional context.

I’ve heard accomplished professional entertainers become so immersed in a song that they missed a note—sometimes badly. But their connection to the material and their commitment to the story were so complete that the missed note didn’t diminish the performance.

In some strange way, it may have made the moment feel even more honest.

Perfection can impress an audience.

Truth can move one.

So prepare. Practice. Develop your technique until it becomes instinctive. Then, when the moment arrives, trust the work enough to let it go.

Stop trying to demonstrate the craft.

Live inside the story.

Don’t perform the moment. Get lost in it.