Editor’s Note: Berkshire on Stage critic Paula Kaplan-Reiss had the opportunity to work on the other side of the footlights when she was cast as Kate Keller a production of Arthur Miller’s “All My Sons,” directed by Ed Dignum, which ran from February 9-12, 2024, at the Ghent Playhouse. We are happy to present her reflections on the experience of returning to acting after many decades’ absence.

I never thought I would get the part. At 64 years old, I haven’t been in a play since I was in my late 30’s when I was the lead in Crossing Delancey at my synagogue. My adult sons are quick to say that role didn’t count. They refuse to believe I had any competition at my synagogue. Since the late 90’s, all of my performances, mostly musical, have been at my synagogue. I was counted on to write and perform song parodies for all sorts of occasions. The rare times I auditioned for community theater, I was never cast.

While I love to act and sing, my time on the stage was limited to high school, college and early marriage, before I had children. When deciding on a career, I had applications on my bed to rabbinical school, the Yale School of Drama, and clinical psychology graduate programs. I doubted I had the talent for Yale and I questioned my commitment to becoming a rabbi. I eventually took the practical route of pursuing psychology. 

Psychology has been good to me and I love the work. My profession in private practice suits my lifestyle. But, after moving to the Berkshires, I plunged back into the world of the arts. I am privileged to have the opportunity to write theater reviews for Berkshire On Stage and get to see many fabulous productions. I take dance classes. I participate in a play reading group with OLLI (Osher Lifelong Learning Institute). My husband, a writer, is in a playwriting group and has had dramatic readings of his work. I am thrilled to be amongst great theater.

When I see the audition announcement for All My Sons by Arthur Miller at the Ghent Playhouse, I recognize this is a great piece of theater not far from my home being performed in the winter when my calendar is free from plays to review. More importantly, the role of Kate Keller, the female iead, is in my age range. Ironically, I believe the role is perfect for me because I am the mother of three sons. I watch the movie and take the script out from the library to prepare myself for the audition.

Entering the theater to audition, I am asked to fill out my past experience. Already I am challenged. Can I write what I did almost 30 years ago? Does anyone care that I sang at my synagogue? I look around at my competition. Generally, the women are talented. One woman walks in and everyone knows her and rushes to hug her hello. My minimal experience auditioning for community theater tells me that there’s an ‘in crowd,’ those that audition and perform in many shows. They have the experience; they are known; they are cast. We read in front of each other, which is atypical. I gain a sense of everyone’s talents. I am fairly impressed with what I see, and unsure how the director will decide. Will he see who performs best with whom? Who looks like a married couple? Who can play mother and son?

Auditions continue over three days. I have little idea whom the director favors. By the end of auditions, I am exhausted and prepared to be disappointed. Perhaps, writing theater reviews is my calling.

A few days later, I receive the call. I am surprised, thrilled, terrified.

(Paula Kaplan-Reiss takes her bow as Kate Keller, alongside George Filieau as Joe Keller and Bill Shein as George Deever, in the 2024 Ghent Playhouse production of Arthur Miller’s All My Sons, directed by Ed Dignum. Photo: Ethan Reiss.)

After the table read, I bring home my script, find a highlighter, and highlight my lines. There are hundreds. How did I ever memorize a script? I have no recollection of having this many lines, and, if I did, how I committed them to memory.  An actor friend of mine tells me. “You don’t memorize them. You feel them. But they have to be letter perfect.” This is an Arthur Miller play. Something tells me, I can’t feel anything until I know them. I entertain the use of an app. I wind up making an overwhelming pile of index cards.

The director knows what he wants and directs assuredly. He is all business, allowing little time for fun and conversation. During the second rehearsal, he asks each of us to come up with a backstory. My stage husband goes into incredible detail on where and when his character was born, the schools he went to, the jobs he held. I give a brief emotional history of my character. Perhaps, I gave too little attention to the assignment.

Early on, my stage son has his lines down cold. Yes, he is one of the young actors. Fortunately, for me, the other actors are not as quick. The entire cast, however, is lovely, hardworking and talented. All of the drama is left on the stage. I feel supported and encouraged.

Rehearsing a play in winter has its challenges. Weather is unpredictable, four cast members get COVID, and two cast members suffer with stomach viruses the week the show is opening. Zoom and masks are our friends. By the time we open, we all are well.

My history and love for theater leave me with memories of feeling accepted, liked, included and transported into a different world. I remember my casts felt like my family. I mourned when the experience was over.

Now, I am in a different phase of life. My needs have changed. I love rehearsing and performing. But, I miss my free time and curling up on the couch at the end of the day. I want to read something other than the script. The worry and fear which come from forgetting lines or cues are omnipresent. Desperate for my friends and family to see I can act and perform well in this role, anxious for the director to not regret casting me as a lead, and anticipating an evaluation of my performance in the reviews which will follow weigh heavily on me.

My part requires me to feel and demonstrate sarcasm, love, anxiety, rage, dread … .in other words, the full breadth of human emotions, which mounts over three acts. I laugh; I tremble; I scream; I slap; I cry. I get very little break over two hours. I jumped into the deep end with this role, having not acted in decades. It is an exhausting process.

Friends and family come from far and wide over the two weekends of performances. My brother and his wife fly in from Florida. What if I blow it and they have paid all that money to witness my failure? My six-bedroom home is filled with company. One son comes with his wife who is an amazing performer and just starred in a community production of West Side Story. Her parents come as well. The stakes are high and match my anxiety. How do people make a living as performers and consistently face this fear and pressure? In comparison, doing therapy feels like a piece of cake.

I want my sons to see me as talented. My husband can’t contain his excitement for opening night.  The worst possibility is their being embarrassed by me.

I am pretty sure I know my lines as well as possible by the time we open. The script is my constant companion.

My performance goes well and improves over the run. Although not always perfect, I want to believe that the audience cannot notice any mistakes. Missing a line causes my stomach to sink and feels difficult to let go. But I move on. The audience applauds and stands. Friends and family seem proud. The reviews are positive.

I am grateful and relieved when the run is over. I put my index cards in recycling. Most cast members are auditioning for or cast in other plays. I go back to reading, working, reviewing, dancing, and watching Netflix. Maybe I will try again next winter. What are the chances of getting a role like this again? In high school I received a small part my sophomore year, the lead my junior year, and was not cast my senior year. So much for show biz. At least I have a role to put on my resume. Clearly, I made the right career choice. But, theater will always be my most exciting challenge.

CLICK HERE to read Jess Hoffman’s Berkshire on Stage review of this production. Ms. Hoffman and Dr. Kaplan-Reiss have never met.