A SUNFLOWER BY ANY OTHER NAME

Rehearsal had come to an end (we thought) – the exertion evident in our sweaty productive fatigue – when we were asked to be seated for some group dynamics theatre “games”. One by one we went round the circle, told to describe each other’s character traits by way of a chosen flower. Naturally I have no recollection of anyone else’s figurative floral identity (it was a L O N G time ago). But I can easily conjure up what was bestowed upon me by someone.

I’ve been called many things (often in jest) but most jarring was when someone called me a SUNFLOWER.

Let me explain.

As a cheerful creative person, a joyful performer and all around mostly positive person I was dumbfounded. How dare this person suggest that my spirit had anything to do with a sunflower – alluding to happiness, optimism and laughter. Oh wait… that should have been lovely.

But when the flowery description of moi was accompanied by undeniable facial displeasure – lovely it was not. Sunflower… displeasure?! It’s like saying “butterflies” or “puppies” with a look of disgust. Come on!! 

As a cheery blonde I was often pigeon-holed as, well… the cheery blonde. That usually meant ditsy parts, the funny one, the one passed over for the more “serious” roles. And although I honestly enjoyed the ditsy and funny, I could often be made to feel a lesser ARTIST. And that sunflower remark, dished out from a director, pointed toward proof of my lack of serious artistry. At least that’s how I took it. Held onto it. And believed it. For a L O N G time. 

Did I, by any means whatsoever, need to capture a dark cloud to place above me at all times?
 

Was it deemed necessary that I should appear more humorless and suffering in order to be taken seriously?

Those were the quandaries I bandied about in my head.

Going back all those many years when A Chorus Line auditions took place, much as I longed for the opportunity to perform the role of Cassie, I anticipated being seen as a Judy Turner (after all – paragraph above). And despite the fact that I was called back for both Cassie and Sheila at one theatre and ended up being cast as Cassie at another I truly believed I had just fooled everyone. And when would I be found out? 

It took a little while… like eight-shows-a-week little while …for me to finally let go of Judy. Was I an artist now? 

Where did the notion that a true artist must have an air of anguish or a sad story to tell? Most assuredly those personal tribulations deserve to be shared and need to be heard. No question. But why that nagging notion that “entertainment” is an inferior commodity and intellectually undemanding, substandard, frivolous, paling in comparison? I couldn’t disagree more. 

When the artform (and this is just my opinion) is intellectualized to a degree that I am told in detailed and often esoteric rhetoric what to think or how to respond –  I turn off. It does not help me FEEL. Rather it’s my own spontaneous emotional understanding and the dynamic personalities on stage that touch me. That compels me to feel something. 

ARTIST used in a sentence, “you are a true artist” or “what kind of artist do you want to be?” or the absolute, “I am an artist” appears to indicate a transcendent quality.  Some people say a true artist is self-sacrificing and compassionate… others think the true artist must use their work to confront and solve worldwide dilemmas… or that a true artist should not even care what their audience thinks. It’s a word thrown around a LOT these days. 

Entertainers/performers/artists provide us with joy that invigorates, inspiration that delights and essential human connection as well as  thoughtful critiques, subversive viewpoints and transformative opportunities. It’s all good. 

Delight and provoke me,

deeply move and transport me,           

amuse and unsettle me,

and joyfully entertain me! 

Now that the sunflower dig is happily in the past… go ahead and shout it, proclaim it, dub me by that name with whatever degree of cheerfulness or animosity you desire. 

I know who I am and I couldn’t be more charmed to be on the receiving end of that flower amongst flowers. 

~featured art and photo by Callen Jones @calrose_art