In a Word, Vulnerable

I’m not one to ignore coincidence. When my professor was describing the performance I was working on and why I was the one who had to sing it, he used that word. Vulnerable. That same word another professor uses to describe my ability to bring out a certain pathos to all characters. The same word I used this week to describe how I am typecast to a fellow actor.

According to my thesaurus: susceptible, sensitive, exposed, tender, naked, impressionable, open, perceptive, tenuous. Vulnerable, an adjective. “Capable of or susceptible to being wounded or hurt”.

In short, not a word I’d use to describe myself. I like to think that I’m fairly self-reliant and capable. But when it comes to the characters I play, they are all vulnerable! They’ve been shy high school girls, abused, mental patients, children, rejected Hamlet and Babe Botrelle and all of them vulnerable. And now, I’m playing a character of myself, my vulnerable character.

I never had a “type” to speak of in high school. One show would cast me as the quiet, dutiful mother and in the next I’d be one of the Silly Girls in Beauty and the Beast. I picked up little clues, from comments made at theatre conference, the choice of songs given to me for solos but I remained without a definite type until I hit college.

I actually think it started earlier than that; it must have been when I was researching plays and songs to find audition material to take with me to college. I wasn’t the funny character actor—on the contrary, I am more suited for drama than a farce. You are definitely getting no “Dance: Ten, Looks: Three” from me. Yet, I don’t sound or look like a typical ingénue. And of late, now that I’m hitting my way out of the teen years (even if I do look like I’ll be playing a high schooler for a while yet), I’ve been playing with my actual appearance. Hair, once so very long—cut short! Added a bit of hair dye to bring out the auburn and cleaning out the wardrobe to update my look, gaining a little bit of maturity maybe? And somewhere along the way to finding myself, I stumbled across this definition, vulnerable.

In some ways, it’s actually quite nice. I can breeze through a play and pick out the characters that would be good for me. But there’s the trouble of finding a play with a vulnerable character in the first place. They are a rare breed and it complicates auditioning—I could have the best audition, but how can they cast me if there’s no role I would be suitable for? Then again, there are those rare, wonderful moments when a director creates his vision around my abilities to give me my own solo moment, a moment that requires my vulnerable type. Needless to say, I’m excited to start rehearsing that scene for my upcoming show!

Anyone else come to an epiphany about their own type or how changing your look changed how you were typecast? Has your look changed dramatically as you got older? Do share!