I lecture to my acting students about the importance of shoes when creating a character. Because I am beginning the process of bringing my intimacies characters back to life, I know how critical it is to choose the right pair of shoes for the tour. Spurred by my recent two-night foray performing Fernando at Highways in Santa Monica, it was time to do some shoe shopping.
Acting manifests the lesson of “walking in his (or her) shoes” with new meaning; the metaphor is ultimately about empathy, the bedrock of good acting. Finding a character’s physicality—and, by extension, emotionality—can be greatly enhanced (or hampered) by the choice of footwear. I had to consider the feet of six disparate individuals when choosing my intimacies shoes while keeping my own vulnerable feet in mind.
Boots, black boots: of that I was fairly certain. And even though I play two women (Marilyn Monroe is one of them) and one gay dude (who is unquestionably “light in the loafers”), I know I’ll lean toward a pair of butch black boots.
Because of my unremitting neuropathy, I want boots that will provide support but also energize each of the characters and their particular stances (especially the four who are on their feet) and physical movement. I don’t want anything that read too 2009; something more neutral would be best, something classic in the sense of being ageless.
I head to the Army Navy Surplus Store in Silverlake, not rhapsodizing in any militaristic metaphors (those will come later) but rather in search of a tough, sexy pair of black boots.
I spot them on a sale table: They are magnificent in their sturdiness; indeed, they are the real deal—combat boots that appear to have been broken in. When I question the salesperson about their history, I learn that they were worn by “an army captain for inspection purposes,” a captain who served in both Iraq and Afghanistan. He obviously wore them when being scrutinized for the appearance of his wardrobe, not in the trenches. But these boots decidedly have a life; they already tell a story. I want these shoes to intersect with the stories of intimacies.
Trying them on is exciting; they feel a bit like what I imagine cothurni would be like. Defined as “a high thick-soled laced boot worn by actors in Greek and Roman tragic drama,” the word “cothurni” is also associated with “the dignified somewhat stilted style of ancient tragedy.” Whether worn on the battlefield or the stage, they definitely conjure theatricality with muscle.
While I agree that the war comparisons to the HIV/AIDS battle are tiresome and often a tad exaggerated, I do feel that I have the right to refer to myself as a warrior. And my characters are decidedly fighters—fighting for their dignity, fighting for acceptance, fighting for their lives.
These puppies are perfect.
When I lace them up in the dressing room at Highways, I have a sense of purpose. Onstage, I feel grounded, centered; they become the shoes of Fernando. And I’m confident I will find the other characters in my newfound boots.
