While you're doing it?
I do a little ritual preparation and then I meditate right before I go on. Then I try to stay in that focus while I'm working, which allows the character to live her own life and Betty to get out of the way. I'm not Betty out there. I'm Norma. I have to get Betty's focus in a really deep place. If my focus is in a more superficial place, too much of me shows up. And I'm a worrier. It's like static on the TV
screen. If I have a nice clear picture, my concentration needs to be very deep, which is what meditation does. It makes your concentration very one-pointed. So each thing Norma is doing is just what Norma is doing as opposed to Betty watching Norma performing Norma. It's hard to explain. Your mind is like a computer. I kind of create this Norma Desmond program which is all the information that my mind can collect about Norma Desmond. From the script, what the director says, from the research I've done. The books I've read, the movies I've watched. Then that program exists and I meditate to go down to a clear slate and I punch up the Norma program and I allow my lifeforce to live through the Norma Desmond program. It's almost like switching the computer and the program runs and I show up. (she laughs) My dresser, Jim Nadeaux, calls it the "Norma Ride."
I once read that you call yourself a Christian Buddhist. Is that right?
I meant that as a loose term. I'm a student of world religions. I've studied many world religions and
the philosophy of "oneness." That's basically it. I believe in the teachings of Christ and I also was a
student of Zen Buddhism, Eastern Philosophy and Siddha Yoga. My belief is basically an Eastern
Philosophy approach to the teachings of Christ. It's all the same information. It's pretty basic. It's
not the Magical Mystical Tour or anything. (she laughs)
I get intimidated when I hear phrases like that.
Like what?
Like Christian Buddhist.
Well, it's just a belief of trying to live in harmony and respect for all beings. That's all. Believing that every life deserves complete respect. It's simple. There is a mystical tradition that goes beyond a conceptual or intellectual idea to something that you realize. When you meditate, you focus on one idea. And you repeat this focus over and over until your mind becomes immersed in it. Once the mind is immersed, it becomes still. Right now, the waking mind is like a busy bee. Its main purpose is survival. We live in a complicated society so the mind is working overtime. We're all pretty stressed out.
How long have you been meditating?
Since I was about 24. So, 24 years now.
So you think it's made you a better actress?
Oh, no question. I was a pretty average actress and because of meditation I became a pretty good
actress. It's the key to everything good that I know.
7:51 P.M.
MINSKOFF THEATRE, BETTY'S DRESSING ROOM
I hear Alan Campbell doing scales through the common wall between his dressing room and
Betty's. Bridget, Jesse and Gemma are still chilling out on the couch in the adjoining room. And
Betty is sitting before her make-up table, applying her make-up. Her Broadway make-up design is
much different than what she wore in London or Glenn Close wore here. The raccoon eyes are
gone, as are the clown lips. Instead of Norma being scary, the new Norma is, well, beautiful and glamorous. Dianne St. lames, who is in charge of wigs, has run the microphones from Betty's forehead to the battery packs, which sit in biker pants along Betty's thigh. She is tucking Betty's hair under a
wig cap. "In Cats," Betty says, "I got my makeup and costume time down to nine minutes flat. No
one believed that I could do it. Even in the cold of winter, I could get off all my clothes and into
costumes and makeup in nine minutes." She laughs, as she applies her lipstick. "People bet
against us so my dresser and I won a bunch of money!" The voice of a stage manager is heard over
the intercom. "Five minute call'" he says. Betty seems remarkably calm, as she rushes through her
routine. Her dresser, Tim, tells me about some of the quick changes for which he is responsible in
the wings. "The quickest is actually going into the Paramount car," he says, "Because of the type
of clothing. But the succession of the Joan of Arc, the leopard and the red 'Lady's Paying.' Those three are..." He snaps his finger quickly three times. "Real close together." Betty agrees with him. "Those are the most intense pressures," she says. "They're like the pit crew in a high speed car race. They just push me back out onstage." The voice of the stage manager is heard again. "Places for Act One, please." Betty begins to look around the room for something. "Where are my cough drops?" she asks km. "Oh, here they are." She smiles at me. "These keep me going," she says, holding up a small box of Ricola Pearls. Betty now has to head to the stage, where km will get her into her opening costume. All of Anthony Powell's elaborate costumes are kept at various points onstage, since there is no time to come back to the dressing room once Betty makes her first entrance. "My only time back here is after I put on my first costume," she says. "I come back for my meditation." We rush down the series of hallways that lead to the stage. Betty vocalizes by counting: "Mee, Nee, 1,2,3,4,5...Mee, Nee, 6,7,8,9,10... Mee, Nee, 11,12,13,14,15." As she heads towards the stage, I head to the house.
8:04 P.M.
MINSKOFF THEATRE, SOUND BOOTH
I watch the show with Cindy, the woman in charge of the complicated sound desk. As I take my seat in a swivel chair right behind her, I notice a blue computer screen to my right. On it are different rows of bar graphs. Under each pair of bars, which are constantly moving up and down, is a name. I recognize a bunch of the names as being cast members. "BRYAN," for example, must be Bryan Batt. Below someone named "RICH," it flashes ''LOW BATT." At the top of the screen' there is "NORMA1" and "NORMA2." Norma's white bars are to the top. As the overture begins, I ask Cindy what the screen shows her. She explains that when someone's microphones are within range of pick-up, the bars are full and white. If they're away from the stage, say in their dressing room, the bars are low and red. "Everyone's are white now," she explains," because they just did a mike check." As Cindy turns away to activate sound cues on her "Cadac," a screen on the other side of her, I stare transfixed at the blue screen. I suddenly feel like I have some kind of surveillance system over the cast of sunset Boulevard. I'll know if anyone goes to the bathroom. It's weird. Suddenly, I see the NORMA1 & 2 bars shakily making a descent, until they're nothing but red slivers. Betty must be meditating.
8:28 P.M.
MINSKOFF THEATRE, SOUND BOOTH
As Joe Gillis is being chased in his car by the two goons to whom he owes money, I notice
NORMA1 & 2 reappearing. Cue 51 on Cindy's Cadac is approaching "You there!" is what the
monitor says. It's time for Norma's entrance. There she is, high in the mansion, upstage left,
making her descent. There is a healthy amount of applause for the arrival of Betty, but there is a
feeling of "Prove it" in the air. She takes the monkey in her arms and begins her first number. Betty
once told me that "Surrender" is her favorite Norma song. She certainly makes it her own. She
beautifully builds it, starting softly and then breaking into her famous belt on "Let them send their
armies. I will never bend." Of course, there is no break before "With One Look," which truly utilizes
Betty's voice. By the end of that number, Betty has been onstage for maybe eight minutes and she
has proven it to the crowd. They respond with a 33-second ovation, complete with screaming and
"Bravo." Norma takes it all in, nods, and the applause dies down. Betty, as Norma, says "Now go!,'
The audience laughs. Are you kidding? No way!
9:34 P.M.
MINSKOFF THEATRE, BACKSTAGE INTERMISSION
I meet Betty as she's coming offstage. "Hi," she says, as if we just saw each other on the street.
As we head down the hallway to her dressing room, she introduces me to Alan Campbell, who is
standing in his room, with Betty's lipstick smeared all over his face (they just finished the New
Year's scene). We enter the dressing room "Well, what do you think?" Betty asks me, as she sits
at her make-up table. "Oh, you're pretty good," I jokingly say, unable to put into words how good I
really think she is. "Oh thanks," she says. I had expected to meet a bit of Norma at intermission, but Betty seems pretty normal. Surprisingly, she's ready to jump right into an interview with me. "No new questions?" she inquires, as she reapplies her lipstick. As Jesse (I think) jumps into my lap, I ask some stupid spur-of-the-moment questions. I find myself amazed at how beautiful the wig that she's wearing looks. "Paul Huntley made it," she says, "the best in the business." Betty asks me if I'd like to go to Orso's after the show. Of course. It's time to head back onstage. Betty slips into her Act Two kimono and heels. I tell her that her entrance "There's been a call" is one of my favorite parts. "That's my least favorite part," she responds promptly. "Those stairs are so dangerous."
10:39 P.M.
MINSKOFF THEATRE, IN THE WINGS, STAGE LEFT
I'm standing just offstage watching the curtain call. As the orchestra swells with "As If We Never
Said Goodbye," the actors take their bows. When Betty appears, the audience leaps to its feet. It's
one of the most genuine reactions I've seen in a theatre in some time. The curtain drops and the
actors suddenly run offstage. Betty stays center stage, as her Salome garb is removed. She
comes towards me with someone. It's Bryan Batt, of Jeffrey fame, who understudies the part of Joe
Gillis and went on for two weeks in the fall. "He was wonderful," Betty says. "You should do a story
on him."
10:52 P.M.
MINSKOFF THEATRE, BETTY'S DRESSING ROOM
Betty vocalizes with a tape of her voice teacher as she takes off her make-up. "My teacher told me
that with people who belt a lot or sing opera," she explains, "there's a lot of heat that's created in
your vocal chords. So, you have to bring them back to normal. You have to warm it up before you
go on and then bring them back down." I ask her if Sunset is the most vocally challenging show
that she's done. "It's probably even with Carrie," she says. After the tape is finished, Betty puts on
a CD of Brazillian music that she enjoys, and heads to the bathroom to take a shower. When she's
gone, I realize how important her dressing room is. It's a safe haven, far from the bustle of
backstage. You don't feel like you're in New York, let alone at the Minskoff. After she finishes her
shower, Betty enters the greeting room off the dressing room to meet a group of friends visiting from
Ireland. They loved the show, but had many questions about the plot. Betty ends up mediating a
friendly debate about whether Joe really loves Norma or not.
11:25 P.M.
MINSKOFF THEATRE, STAGE DOOR
When we exit the stage door, a horde of anxious fans cheers. A doorman from the theatre takes
Bridget, Jesse and Gemma to Betty's car, which is waiting on 45th Street. Betty begins to sign
autographs and pose for pictures. I step aside and wait. Two women at the end of the line accost
me. The bossier of the two is wearing a Sunset l-shirt and baseball cap and holding three items for
Betty to autograph: a Playbill, a Sunset poster and a Sunset postcard. "Are you her bodyguard?"
she inquires. "No,)) I respond, although there is a temporary temptation to put up the front of being
in the security business. As Betty gets closer to finishing the line (and closer to my two new
friends), the woman sporting the Sunset paraphenalia tells me that not everyone in the cast has
been so good about signing things. "But Betty's a classy lady," she says. "A true class act."
12:44 A.M.
ORSO'S
When we first entered the restaurant, a woman sitting near the front noticed Betty right away. She
jumps up and introduces herself. Apparently, she roomed with Betty and two other girls when they
were all in their early twenties. Betty was starring in 1776 on Broadway at the time. Recently, this
woman's grown daughter had tickets for Sunset and her mother told her to go backstage afterwards
and introduce herself. She did. "She told me how nice you were to her," she said to Betty. Now,
this woman is getting ready to leave so she comes to say goodbye. "It's so good to see you," she
says. "We always knew that you'd be famous." Betty blushes. The woman pulls out a piece of paper with her name and phone number written on it. "I know that you won't give me your number now that you're so famous," she says, "but here's mine." Betty smiles and takes the pen from her. "Don't be silly," she says, handing the woman her phone number. A true class act. back to top
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