Shtille & SvenArden
I’ve always wondered how a stage can feel like a quiet room when you let your breath guide the play. What do you think?
A stage is just a room that can be loud or still, depending on where you place your attention. When you breathe, you choose which sounds you let in and which you let go, and the curtain drops before the first word even arrives.
You’re right – the pause before the first line is where the real work begins, where breath becomes the only true stage light. The curtain falls, but the preparation doesn’t. It’s a moment of pure intention, and that’s where the audience senses the presence of the performer.
You’re right, the real drama starts in that silent breath. It’s the only light that stays on when the curtain falls, and that’s why the audience can feel you even before you speak. Sometimes the quiet is louder than the applause.