Why is it that you’ve memorized the notes, know a piece by heart, and can play it with your eyes closed, but when you go on stage, something strange happens?
Your hands feel paralyzed, your voice doesn’t respond, and you’re so overwhelmed by anxiety that you can’t even think about the gestures you’ve practiced in rehearsals, let alone how to move on stage?
So-called “stage fright,” from the perspective of creative people, is nothing more than ordinary stress.
Stress is experienced by people trying new things, such as changing jobs, advancing in social status, or public speaking.
A distinction is made between psychological stress and physiological stress.
The first type of stress causes a newcomer to experience self-doubt, fear of failure, and fear of being judged by others, etc.
The second type of stress comes to the fore when we become psychologically weak. We start to feel feverish, have stomach pains, a rise in temperature, and sometimes chills and itching. Anxiety can numb your teeth, joints, arms, and legs.
At such a moment, it’s hard to calm down, and strangers might think you’re ill. But, your performance ends (it doesn’t matter how, the main thing is that you did it) and you return to your normal state, as if what happened was like a dream.
Playing an instrument on stage, reading poetry in public, talking about your projects in public, displaying your artistic creations—all of this is very important to you. Recognition for your creative, scientific, or other work is very exciting. And it would be wise not to become euphoric at the thought of hundreds and thousands of spectators being humbled by your talent. Don’t give your body a “shake-up”.
Try it small.
Start showing your wonderful paintings to your siblings. Then hold a “mini-exhibition” among friends. Then, by increasing the number of “eyes,” you will gradually become accustomed to more and more attention being paid to you. And this will become normal for you.
Sing at least one song for your pet. Then persuade your parents to listen to you sing. Afterwards, gather your friends for karaoke and sing for them. Get a feel for it. Maybe you won’t need to be noticed vocally anymore, but will want to do something else.
I have a good friend who writes excellent lyrics for songs. But when I asked him to recite at least one, he became shy and said no one needed his poems. I insisted for a long time, and finally, he read it. I was the only one who listened to him. Whether he was stressed at the time, I don’t know.
When his girlfriend and a few friends persuaded him to read his poems in a small theater, he agreed. And there were already about ten people in attendance. Was he nervous? I think so, but not too much.
The habit of being in public began to take hold in him, and now he not only reads his poems to large audiences but also enjoys composing songs for musical groups.
There’s one peculiarity about public speaking. Over time, you reach a level where when you go on stage there is no longer any trepidation, no increased heartbeat, you don’t feel whether you like it or not.
You become bored and sad. Is this the end?… Or a new beginning?
If you’re just starting out, you have a lot of interesting things ahead of you, and “saturation” won’t come anytime soon. I’ve spoken with more experienced musicians, and they say there must always be growth (in audiences, skill, etc.).
If there’s no movement, we get bored.
I wish you a constant, barely noticeable tremor before going on stage. Good luck!
