I.D Essay Book - I met 'Les Mis'... (part 6 of 6)

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I.D Essay Book - I met 'Les Mis'... (part 6 of 6)

And now the present.


When the editor of a certain magazine came to see me on stage he said the following: “Years ago, back when you were still in high school, I asked you who you would like to play in the future. You replied: Eponine from Les Miserables. I remember writing that article, and now to think your dream has really come true…”

As he said this he was moved to tears. I’d forgotten until he reminded me but yes, that article does exist. Eponine was so far away then and such a big deal, a dream of a dream, that saying something like that was ridiculous.

And now even though I’ve been playing this role, the ideal Eponine I want to portray is still a long way off. Has my dream come true? Or is it still far off? I’m not sure. I realised that the goal was not obtaining the role in itself, but the true challenge is from now on ‘how can I perform this role?’ It’s like I’m setting sail towards an island of dreams that may not even exist and I don’t know how to get there. If this continues I think that that the day my dream will truly come true might not ever come.

I’d actually decided that I would leave once the Tokyo run had finished. It had been difficult, and even I was worried about whether it was such a good idea to let an amateur continue to stand on stage.

But, when I realised, it was my third year as Eponine. Even now I’m still standing on the stage of Les Miserables.

Worry, desires, depression, tears…my days on this production always progress in leaps and bounds. I was surprised at how faint-hearted and weak I had been in the past and was disappointed in myself. But then I decided: no more, no more. When the curtain rises, it’s so fun and I’m so happy, almost equal to the pain I had felt. I learnt so much and felt so much that on the final day of the show’s run I thought, ‘let’s try staying a little longer.’

And now, little by little, this once class drop-out is beginning to enjoy being on stage.

I’ve graduated from being so nervous that I can’t talk to people before a performance, and from looking at the floor when I leave a stage door so I won’t see the faces of the audience. Raising my head and calmly taking a look around has opened my eyes to many important things.

The staff and cast members standing in the stage wings, unseen, mouthing along to the words. How you can feel the love people have for the show from how they fix their eyes on the stage. How before my turn, I take a deep breath and someone pushes me forward saying, “Off you go!” How the person in charge of the costumes and wigs makes me laugh when I’m down. The profile of each actor, all struggling in their own way, shining as they sing. How I can feel the quiet breathing of the audience when I’m alone on stage to perform ‘On my own’.

With each of these things, I think from the heart: this is happiness.

But I’ll never forget those feelings from my first year. All of it became my blood and bones, helping me to grow into who I am now. Because I found my weaknesses I was able to know strength. No matter what happens, when I think of those days I know I can carry on. Of course, my work is not yet done, but that’s why I think I can go on, believing that something lies ahead.

It’s been decided that the next run will be Osaka in winter 2005, then on to other places up until next spring.

As ever, I have no choice but to cross this sea in my rowing boat, tossing between joy and sorrow.

Fin.