That Time I Performed in a Hundred-Degree Heat in a Hippo Onesie
… and lived to tell the tale.
If you’re any sort of theater performer, you know how tough the industry can be. You audition for the gigs of your dreams and you don’t get them. You pound the virtual pavements of New York City subitting video after video, audition after audition. You barely scrape by financially so you stack whatever gigs you can to feed yourself. What a glorious life. It’s all for the art, right?
I did that one summer. In 2017, I took a job in a Long Island-based touring production of Madagascar - A Musical Advenutre. I got to take day trips to different parts of the island I've never seen before. Sometimes, we did performances in my Motherland, Queens, New York. I’m Queens born and bread and forever will be, but Long Island has its pretty credits.
The was our backstage view
for a performance in Steppingstone Park in Great Neck, NY.
I have countless pictures like the one above. We played shows in gardens and parks I’ve never heard of before. I got to act in these places?! What a trip. As you have probably guessed from the title of this blog post, I played Gloria, the famous hip hop Hippo. Yes, she does indeed rap in the show and it’s freaking awesome.
I loved playing this role. She is so fun and sassy. There’s a lot to work with for her character. The backstory I gave her was chock-full of wild stories. My cast mates were amazing. It was a summer of fun putting on a show for kids to introduce them to the magical world of live theatre. Theatre for Young Audiences for the win!
We quickly learned that our costumes, however, were not what they seemed. I mean, who wouldn’t want to get a job doing a show wearing a comfy as hell onesie every day? No one. It’s heaven on stage. Dress rehearsals for Madagascar - A Musical Adventure were bliss. We were so pumped to be in costumes that embodied a big bundle of warmth and happiness.
Oversized onesies for the win!
Including a fake hippo-booty.
We opened our tour in Huntington at Heckscher Park on the mainstage. We had a dressing room/green room and lots of cookies (still think about the Opening Night cookie toast). I felt like a rock star. But this was summer in New York, and we weren’t always booked for air conditioned venues. We sweat our asses off. I sweat a few pounds off — silver lining.
Cookie!
from the Opening Night Cookie Toast!
Our hottest performance was sadly in my Motherland, Queens. This is a day I will never forget. It was a two-showfer for us in Flushing Meadows-Corona Park, right near the Queens Zoo. If my recollections are correct, we had one performance at 11 am, then another at 1 pm. It took me for-ev-er to find parking near our performance space. Welcome to the Motherland.
The air conditioner blasted through the vents of my 2011 Kia Forte, but that didn’t stop the sweat from pooling under my armpits. I wasn’t even in costume yet, and I was wearing the shortest shorts I could find. My spaghetti-strapped shirt was already stained from the armpit pool. Good thing my favorite color to wear is black.
When I got out of my car, my thighs were sweating. Literal beads of sweat oozed out of my leg’s pours. This was a first. I felt like a freak. Onesie in my suitcase, I reluctantly rolled it to the performance area, regretting my decision to do this show in the first place. My friends and castmates were stalling their costume time, chilling in the backstage area as best they could.
Our performance space was in the middle of a field. So there was no stage or a hard floor. We had to perform on grass. Our set backdrop had to be nailed into the ground. Dirt was everywhere, and none of us brought enough water. I was already nauseous from the heat. I needed a peppermint to settle my stomach like my life depended on it.
Space Bun Strong
This was not taken at Flushing Meadows-Corona Park, but I enjoyed the fountain and needed to express my Green Day love on here somehow.
That’s when we got the call from our stage manager. “Places!” The cast let out a collective groan. We ever-so-slowly pulled our onesies up from our waists to the tops of our heads. The dirt was already sticking to us. My hippo ears drooped from the humidity. The space buns planted on my head failed at their job this time around. I felt sorry for them.
Chords of the opening number rang through the speakers. It was time to let go of the heat and become these beloved Madagascar characters. Gloria the Hippo was ready to get crunk with her fake pregnancy belly on her butt. Yes, I wore a fake pregnancy belly under my onesie to accurately express the hippo-booty, seeing as I don’t have one. Seriously, it’s flat back there.
We got through the first slew of scenes until Melman the Giraffe, Marty the Zebra, and I got a stage-time break. We immediately attempted to pull our onesies down to our waists. Distasteful silence flooded backstage. I wished I could push my onesie down to my feet (damn pregnancy booty!). Thank gosh we were all wearing under-clothes.
Ah, but the underclothes made it worse. They morphed with our skin. I’m almost positive I said out loud, “Is this what molting feels like?” Drenched in our own sweat, we peeled off our onesies. I figured this is what lobsters feel like when they shed their shells. Poor Alex the Lion had a whole solo scene by himself until we came back for the next one.
The cast sat in complete stillness so as to not generate any more heat. I drank my water in droplets because I would get more nauseous if I drank too fast. Darn me and my body's nausea tolerance! I stood because I knew if I sat down, I would never get back up. Imagining what the crisp cool taste of peppermint gum would feel like kept me alive.
I loved performing here.
Give me a botanical garden, and I’m one happy gal.
3 minutes later, it was time to get back on stage. If you’ve ever seen Madagascar, you know there’s a part when Alex the Lion gets tranquilized and gets high out of his mind. Well, the stage version has that too — for all of the main animals. The song reminds me of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" by The Beatles and it’s my favorite scene to do.
I wished I was high at that moment. I wanted something to take me away from the harsh, humid New York City summer heat. The “Lucy” Scene, as I liked to call it, was a tough scene to do. Our direction was to move in s l o w m o t i o n. So not only were we in onesies in a hundred degree heat, but we had to exert extra effort to make our bodies move slowly? Jesus.
At the end of the Lucy In the Sky high number, we go to sleep on stage. On top of a crate, I lied on my left side — fetal position. For a second, I thought I was crying. I felt water drip from the right side of my face to the left. I wanted to cry after I realized that the drop of water was sweat. My eyes burned from the drop landing in my left eye at the last second. I was miserable.
green room Bliss.
That library was bomb dot com.
The big dance scene was next. “I Like To Move It.” Holy moly. Talk about exercise. At this point I was ready to rip the pregnant belly strap in two, strip the onesie off, and let my butt breathe. The men in the cast were way worse off than I was. Especially my friend playing Alex the Lion. He had a whole Lion’s mane around his face. We were all miserable.
All this torture for 45 minutes to realize it ended. After the first show, we met some of the children in the audience. They had smiles on their faces. Have you ever seen pure joy wrapped around a child when they were just fussing a second before? Makes it all worth it. That quickly turned around again when we realized we had another show to do in an hour.
Someone at the company must have loved us and had our health and well being at the forefront of their mind. The second show got canceled. To whichever stage crew peep reached out to the company, thank you. I am thanking you a million times over and will probably never stop. You deserve all of the kudos in the world. You saved us from heat exhaustion.
The rush of car heat overcame me when I drove home (it took forever for the air to kick in), but when I got there, bliss ensued. I took a long cold shower and stood in front of my air conditioner. As I stood there, I asked myself “Why the hell did I agree to this?” Then I thought of the smiles on those children’s faces. “That’s why. That’s why I do this.”
That’s why I do all of this. Write blogs. Perform. Direct. Choreograph. Write books. Teach. Write encouraging weekly newsletters. I want to bring smiles to people’s faces, no matter how old. I want to show them how magical the world can be. It’s my goal to make people less alone. So sign up for my newsletter. I’m always here for you, even in a hundred degree heat.