Dealing with Stage Fright

Everyone’s performed at some point in their life — and save a lucky select few, everyone knows the horror of sweaty palms, stuttering speech, and a general desire to escape that comes as a result. For both professionals and amateurs, stage fright can present a real barrier when performing: but can it also generate the energy that puts the audience on the edge of their seats?

As a frequent musical performer myself, I’ve come far from those school plays that left me shaking. I’ve found that the more I perform, the less debilitating stage fright I’ve had. Maybe it was the fact I wasn’t being forced onstage by my teachers, that I actually liked the music I was singing, or that I was among friends that I actually found performing fun.

Over time, however, I’ve felt the shakes slowly coming on again. If I knew a concert would last an hour, I felt every minute slowly ticking by. Slow songs became agonising as I waited for them to end. The dry throat, racing heart, and fight or flight were back — and I couldn’t understand why. Postgraduate actress Kiera Joyce agrees: “Stage fright is a tricky beast,” she admits. “Sometimes you think you’ve conquered it, then it rears its ugly head again.”

Scientifically, stage fright functions as a form of ‘social phobia’ — essentially, a fear of judgement by others. Anticipation of a performance, big or small, activates the nervous system, which generates that sense of fight, flight, or freeze. I’ve been told by older people in my life that propranolol, now a prescription anxiety drug, used to be freely available to take before a concert or show. Without chemical solutions, how do singers, actors, and musicians deal with stage fright’s awkward effects?

St Andrews is lucky to have a variety of talented performers, and, watching these seeming professionals, it’s hard to believe they too could experience the same cocktail of chemicals that comes with stage fright. 

Terence O’Neil, one of the University’s organists, plays in St Leonard’s Chapel routinely, but still experiences this phenomenon. “It’s like you’re breathing manually […] it’s debilitating,” he explains. “You’re so over-critical of yourself that even if you play something not even wrong but slightly differently, it can throw you off. It’s not about the performance but getting through it.”

Others, such as Hanna Ward, who recently played Cinderella in the eponymous musical, have a more mixed impression. “I’d argue it’s easier for a singer, because you can put yourself entirely into the character in the piece, but then again, you’re entirely dependent on your own voice,” she believes. “What gives me stage fright is how unpredictable singing can be.”  

However, it’s possible to harness the power of adrenaline to your advantage: the increased pressure can actually improve the result. Victoria Lee, President of the St Andrews Madrigal Group, explains, “In MadGroup, regardless of how well our rehearsal went, as soon as the lights come up we snap together and are performance ready. There’s something about being in front of lots of people which is integral to artistic performance.”

My advice? Embrace the fact that your audience is here to see something you’ve (hopefully) prepared meticulously. “I always make sure that I'm so prepared that there’s nothing in my control that needs to be fixed,” Ward says. Joyce recommends “a quick moment in the wings […] or a quick fag outside”. Whatever the tactic, stage fright, even if it doesn’t go away completely, can be controlled. The rise of the curtain shouldn’t be daunting, but exciting.

Illustration by Maya Mason