"The King & I" Were The Only Asian Actors in the Show!

Some goals seem impossible and unattainable. I'm not talking about the ones that involve receiving an Academy Award or winning the million dollar lotto. I'm thinking about dreams that only those who believe in fairy tales hope for.

So, because I possess a singing voice that belongs in the chorus rather than with the soloists, there are certain hopes and wishes that I never thought would ever happen for me. Playing Bloody Mary in "South Pacific," Jack's Mother in "Into the Woods" or just about anyone in "Flower Drum Song" come to mind.

But every now and then, an impossible dream does come true. No, I didn't get cast in "Man of La Mancha" (it wasn't that impossible dream). It was even better than that. I got to play Lady Thiang in "The King & I." Yes, that wonderful role where I, the mediocre singer, had the privilege of singing "Something Wonderful," the most beautiful solo from one of my all-time favorite shows.

As a small child growing up in a world (back in the 1960's) when seeing an Asian face on the silver screen (or the television screen) almost never happened, watching the movie "The King & I" was a rare delight. It fueled my impossible dream that one day, even I could be on stage in a musical just like this. Never mind that I didn't have a singing voice anyone would pay to listen to. Forget the fact that I never even had an opportunity as a young girl to be in a play, take acting lessons or even be in a school skit. None of that mattered. This was my fantasy, and I would not be moved from it!

Then, suddenly, my "every now and then" moment arrived. No, it wasn't even that. This was my "once in a lifetime" moment: I got to live out my fondest fantasy, my impossible dream, my this-will-never-happen-to-me wish. I got to play a principal role and sing a solo in Rodgers & Hammerstein's "The King & I."

The production was full of good-hearted folks who got together every year to put on a show. No one was a professional, or even had aspirations along that road. Being in a show was just a fun, energetic way for them to spend their summer.

For me, being Lady Thiang was more than just having fun. I spent each rehearsal and every performance marveling at my good fortune. I felt unworthy to play the part. I floated on air, and my feet didn't touch the stage until the moment after we closed the show.

And how did my solos turn out? Thanks to a good sound amplification system (this was summer outdoor theater, you know), it all turned out quite well. I felt like I was born to play the part. Maybe I was right. After all, I had spent most of my life dreaming of it.

To quote from one of my other favorite Rodgers & Hammerstein show, "South Pacific," Bloody Mary tells her daughter, "You've got to have a dream. If you don't have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true?"

I may never get the chance to actually play Bloody Mary, but I was certainly able to live out her inspiring words. No, I may not be Bloody Mary, Jack's Mother, or anyone from "Flower Drum Song," but for one marvelous summer, I got to be the Queen of Siam. Now, that was something wonderful.

I Must Be "God's Favorite" Actor....

I have been a part of the Christian church for nearly my entire life. Over the years, I have served the LORD in various capacities, as a Sunday School teacher, bible study leader, church nursery worker, missions committee chairperson, official board member, singer for the Praise and Worship team, etc.

One thing I haven't done is what many churches call "drama ministry." It seems logical to some that an actor who is also a Christian would (naturally) want to use her acting skills in the context of the church. In fact, many would say that a Christian actor should only do "Christian theater" (whatever that is...) or do her acting in church.

I guess I'd have to disagree with that assumption. I have always been interested in one thing: theater. Not "Christian" theater or "educational" theater or any other label you could come up with. All I have ever wanted to do was just plain theater.

That doesn't mean, however, that I have no interest in serving God through theater. I firmly believe that a Christ-follower can glorify God through whatever talent or interest she possesses. After all, who gives us these talents and passions, but God Himself?

With this thought in mind, I carefully look around at the audition announcements out there. Once, way back in 2004, a particular announcement caught my eye. The Renton Civic Theatre was putting on a show by Neil Simon, one of my favorite playwrights. There was an interesting role in "God's Favorite," one calling for an African-American maid. The script called for African-Americans to play both the maid and the butler. Hmmmmm...

Now, we actors of color have played more than our share of household servants on stage. And I also know that when a local theater is in need of good African-American actors, they are hard to find. Not because they don't exist. They are in great demand. So, I figured, maybe the director might cast this part with an Asian maid instead.

So, I showed up to the audition, prepared not to try to portray a black woman, but an Asian one. Whew...what a stretch that would be....

I put on my best Asian immigrant accent, sharpened my rapier wit and hoped for the best. I guess it worked, thanks to an ever-open minded director, the wonderful Lee Paasch. I got cast as the (not-African-American-but-Asian-immigrant) maid and had the time of my life.

They say drama is easy, comedy is hard. Well...maybe no one has actually said that, but it is definitely what I would say. Comedy is what makes me come alive on stage. It commands all my skill as an actor (what little there is) to allow me to hit the mark. It does me good. It challenges all my senses. I love to make the audience laugh.

God opened the door for me to be a part of that show. Actually, He opens all doors that allows me to be on stage, but I could definitely see His hand in this incredible opportunity. "God's Favorite" is a story about a man who is convinced that he is chosen by God to show the world (or at least New York City) God's love and power. I may not be God's Chosen One, but I am convinced that I got on stage this time for a reason.

God is love. God is salvation. God is great. And sometimes, God is humor. Humor, you say? Well, that's a concept not everyone gets. But Neil Simon gets it, and so do I. Some of God's servants can move you and inspire you. I like to think I am one of His servants who can entertain you and make you laugh.

Yes, I can also teach His word through bible study. I also would like to think that I could deliver one heck of a sermon, if ever given the chance. But, when I am given the privilege of being on stage (especially in a comedy), I truly believe I fulfill who God made me to be. He gave me my sense of humor, my interest in theater, my comic timing and my love of comedy. What better way to glorify Him than to use the best parts of me?

Some folks are moved by deep, serious drama. Not me. Give me a good comedy any day. After all, there will be much rejoicing and laughter in heaven one day. Might as well get started now....

The Year I Had "Sex in Seattle"

Every once in a while, things just fall into place when you're not even trying. Sometimes when all you're doing in life is minding your own business, along comes opportunity, knocking on your long-neglected door.

This was one of those times. I was taking one of my long "breaks" (translation: I wasn't auditioning for any shows, and wasn't even planning to), when an email landed in my inbox.

"We would like to invite you to read one of the parts during a workshop reading of our next episode of Sex in Seattle." .......Wow....just like that.

Now, reading a role in a workshop reading is usually not a really big deal. But, for those who are wondering why this really is a big deal and why I would get involved in a show whose title sounds a bit like porn, let me explain.

"Sex in Seattle" is the marvelous creation of some talented and enterprising Asian-American actors. Tired of being left out of opportunities to perform in productions that don't require "Oriental characters" in them, these actors donned their playwright and producer hats, and created a long-running theatrical series about the lives and loves of 4 contemporary Asian-American women.

SIS has become such a hit, it has been running for over 7 years! Like its television counterpart, Sex in the City, SIS is smart, sassy, funny and fast-paced. But, I always thought I was too old to be a part of such a whirlwind of cutting-edge coolness. I was wrong.

I read the part of Mrs. Ko, the Chinese-born mother to Elizabeth, one of the four leading ladies. The play was downright hilarious, and probably one of the best episodes I had seen (I had seen several). I'd been a fan of the series for a long time, so what a kick it was to be a part of its workshop process.

Later that night, after returning home, I received an email inviting me to play the part "for real" when the next episode is performed on stage! Whew! How could I resist?

For most of my theatrical life, getting a role on stage has been an uphill climb, or so it seems. I carefully choose which roles I will audition for, hedging my bets as to which plays, roles, directors and theaters might offer the best odds of using someone like me in their production.

Usually, when I am auditioning for a role that is not written for an Asian character, I feel the climb up that hill is pretty steep. After all, I don't "look" the part, and might have to work extra hard to convince the director that I could convincingly be that person in the play.

When I audition for an Asian role, I am up against some of my stiffest competition. The Asian actor's pool in Seattle is talented, hard-working and doesn't give up easily. Many of the roles I have lost out on have been to my Asian-American sisters in theatre. Being a non-competitive type of person, the "fight" to get roles is especially hard for me.

But, here I was, being invited to play a marvelous part in a hit show! No audition, no competition, no 2-contrasting-monologues-then-a-cold-reading-from-the-script. Just a simple, gracious invitation by SIS director Miko Premo.

Wonderful roles usually aren't offered to you on that proverbial silver platter, but this time it was. And the platter offered so much more than just a nice opportunity to be on stage. I was in a sexy show with attitude and lots of laughs. I got my picture on the cover of a local magazine. I was able to reprise my role in a video clip 2 episodes later. I got to be a part of a local cultural phenomenon. I got to be cool and sexy.

Okay, maybe I wasn't the one who was cool and sexy. After all, I was pushing 50, and playing someone's Mom. But I was in "Sex in Seattle," so that made me cool and sexy....by association, at least.

Macbeth: The Bearded Scottish Tragedy

My husband Randy and I were doing a bit of shopping one fine afternoon when that fateful call (you know, the one all actors wait longingly for!!) came on his cell phone. I didn't need more than one guess as to who it was.

Randy looked over at me, his cellular flip phone still pressed to his ear, and asked, "Scott (Macbeth director Scott Campbell) is offering me a part in Macbeth. Should I take it?" Silly question. Randy happily accepted the part of Ross, a Scottish nobleman, and practically sang all the way home.

But, after the initial excitement of knowing he had just been cast in a show had passed, Randy soon became pensive. I could tell he was planning...contemplating...deciding. He came to me, sat down and made his careful, almost apologetic declaration. "I think I will have to grow a beard."

A beard.....sigh.

It could have been worse, I suppose. Randy might have been cast in "Annie," playing Daddy Warbucks, which would have obligated him to shave his head. So, a beard is certainly not the real tragedy in this story. The murders of King Duncan, Banquo, Lady Macduff and her son, now THAT is tragic. A beard is simply a temporary dramatic device.

It started out well enough. The five o'clock shadow that soon developed was rather becoming on him. It gave him that rugged look, in the same way that Don Johnson made the "unkept face" look chic during his Miami Vice days. Soon, as the beard grew more pronounced, I noticed that the hairs did not match the medium brown on his head. The beard was gray. Actually, white, to be exact. No longer was Randy given to the Miami Vice look. He now passed over to the Old Man look.

I tried to see the light side of things. I joked that Randy was now an old geezer, and I was his trophy wife. I stroked his beard and threatened to put a ribbon in it and make it into a ponytail on the chin. I told him I looked forward to the day that I would no longer be married to Santa Claus. And so it went.....day after day looking at a man I no longer recognized.....wondering who this fellow with a strange profile was sleeping next to me at night....wanting to ask this elderly gentleman, "Who are you and what have you done with my husband Randy?"

But, after weeks of rehearsals and agonizing over his Shakespearean dialogue, it was finally opening night. My brother Ko and I sat in my favorite section of the house at the Lakewood Playhouse (section I, second row). The set design was wonderful, with the Birnam Wood recreated simply and beautifully.

As the lights went up, the marvelously costumed actors took the stage and spirited us away to a far away land in a long ago time. As the beauty of Shakespeare's language mesmerized us, I was transported to a magical world of swordplay, royal ceremony and witch's brew.

Then, a handsome old man entered the story. It was Randy! How fitting he was, so much a natural part of the tale, with his kilt, his walking staff...and his beard. What was "unfitting" in Tacoma, Washington was now a thing of beauty in Macbeth's kingdom of Scotland. Randy was so regal, so noble....so handsome!

After the final curtain call, the spell had broken. Macbeth had been murdered by Macduff, the Thane of Fife. Malcolm ascended to the throne of his murdered father, King Duncan. All of Scotland began to hope anew. Randy and I went back home to our cozy condo overlooking Commencement Bay in Tacoma. I looked at my talented actor/husband and again marveled at his beard. With his 21st century clothing back on, I gazed upon the Man Who Would Be Ross. So handsome. So strong. So noble. So......gray.

Yep. I can't wait until closing day of this show, when the razor comes out and gives me back my husband. Shakespeare's Macbeth may be magical, but I sure do miss my Randy...my handsome, clean-shaven Randy. All I can think to say is, "Out, damn beard! Out, I say."

Once on This Island, I Was a Shrub

A call came on my cell phone one afternoon. It was Marcus Walker, the managing artistic director of The Lakewood Playhouse. "Have you thought about auditioning for our production of 'Once on This Island?'" he asked. "No," I said. "Why not?" inquired Marcus. "Because I'm not black," I informed him. "Well, that doesn't matter. We're thinking of having a multicultural cast," he countered.

"Hmmmm," I thought, "I'm not so sure about this." But, whenever a director invites me to audition for a show, I consider it good form to show up to the audition. After all, it is usually meant as a compliment when you are invited to try-outs.

For those not familiar with the show, "Once on This Island" is a tale that takes place on a mythical Caribbean island, populated by dark skinned people. One glance in the mirror made it clear that I didn't exactly qualify on that count. But, it seems that at least one theater director in town thought otherwise.

Apparently, the person whom he hired to direct the show also thought otherwise. "Island" director Julie Halpin offered me a part in the show...as a member of the company who portrayed everything from a light-skinned black woman to a dark-skinned peasant. I even played inanimate objects, such as a gate, a shrub, and a tree.

Oh, and let's not forget some of the other aspects of the show that stretched my skill and imagination. As a minimally-trained dancer (in other words, ballet lessons as a small child and tap dance classes in college), I found myself as a fifty-something "dancer" jumping, twirling and shaking along side kids less than half my age. Age is irrelevant, you say? Perhaps, but let's not forget the injured back and menopausal hot flashes that bring me endless discomfort and pain. But, I danced, I sang (did I mention the sore throat that required antibiotics to heal?) and I blossomed (I played a tree and shrub, after all....)!

There was a valuable lesson to be learned there. We actors are always moaning about how directors tend to typecast us. You know, always casting us in the same type of roles, never letting us stretch our artistic boundaries in new and different ways. I realized that I had kind of done the same thing to myself. I am an Asian actor, a female actor, a character actor....but the common word here is ACTOR.

I once read a quote attributed to Whoopi Goldberg. "An actress can only play a woman. I am an actor. I can play anything." Anything...including a flowering bush.

So, what limits am I putting on myself? What experiences am I denying myself because of those self-imposed limitations? Good questions. What can I do to help rid myself of these barriers? I may not know the answer to that one, but it has gotten me thinking, planning and dreaming. I am seeing past the image in the mirror and exploring what is inside me.

Most importantly, though, when I hear of a new and different opportunity for a role that I am totally wrong for, I may just audition for it anyway.

Our Town, Our Marriage

Long, long ago in the year 2006, I somehow got myself cast in Thornton Wilder's play, "Our Town" at the Lakewood Playhouse.

Don't ask me how that happened. It's a long story. You see, we actors of color usually stay as far away as we can from auditioning for shows like this. "Our Town," which takes place in rural New Hampshire in 1901, doesn't exactly conjure up images of a multicultural society. Well..perhaps there might have been an occasional non-white house servant, but other than that, Grover's Corners, NH is normally seen as a White Bread kind of town.

But, thanks to an enlightened director, Doug Kerr, who sees past an actor's color when casting a show, I found myself playing Mrs. Myrtle Webb, and the only non-white actor in the production. And I am so glad he chose me. But, not for the reasons you might suspect.

No...it wasn't because I appreciated the opportunity to perform in a classic piece of American literature. And it wasn't because I relished the thought of racially integrating the cast, or making a "statement" about what it means to be an American.

It was much more self-centered than that. When I became Mrs. Webb, something beautiful happened. I had the pleasure of playing opposite a wonderful actor named Randy Clark who played my husband Editor Webb. Sparks flew, and we fell in love, both on and off stage. 10 months later, we were married. It was a dream come true.

You've heard all those Hollywood couple names: TomKat, Brangelina, Bennifer? Well, we have become RandAya. Corny, yes. But it perfectly describes how we feel. We both love acting. We love the theatre. We love the stage. Most of all, we love being RandAya.

Who knew that an "old chestnut" of a play that is usually performed by mostly high school drama clubs could bring me such happiness?

Thornton Wilder never knew what a matchmaker he is. He just thought he was a Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright.