I Survived.

Well. Last night wasn't the greatest experience of my theatrical life, but I survived.  The audience was very generous, but it really got me to thinking about something I've encountered a lot.

Very often when I go to the theater, I find that I hate something that the rest of the audience seems to gobble up.  I recently saw a production of a play at one of the major theaters in town that I thought was completely and totally awful.  But it was big and glitzy and had pretty costumes and a pretty set, and the audience just ate it up.

So I sit here thinking to myself -- how comforted should I have been that the audience gave us a standing ovation last night when I saw an audience stand up for a completely wretched play not three weeks ago?

 In my bleaker moments, I wonder if audiences really are the feckless sheep that many a superior-feeling actor thinks they are.  Are they too dumb, or to numbed by the unrelenting tide of crap that's placed on American stages to know really good theater when they see it?

But here's the trap that logic leads you into:  Those superior-feeling actors (and I admit, in those moments when I'm feeling especially confident, I can be one of them) have to ask themselves, "Does it have any meaning when they stand for me?"

Ah, the tendency toward excessive self-evaluation is both a blessing and a curse.  It keeps you constantly striving to improve, but leaves you ever plagued by self-doubt.