This winter, I had the opportunity to visit Prinsengracht 267 in Amsterdam and see the Secret Annex firsthand. Our guide at the museum took my family into Otto Frank’s old office on the ground floor of the building. While most of the Annex is heavily trafficked by millions of tourists each year, this room is not open to the general public. In fact, its 1943 aroma of dusty old books enveloped me when I entered. I sat at Mr. Frank’s desk, exactly where Anne once wrote in her diary so many years ago. Words cannot describe how meaningful this opportunity was for me. Unlike Anne, I felt so much history and perspective in this old office. When Anne occupied the very same seat, it was only a chair. To me, it was a relic of traumatic times. Anne knew that one day her life could be significant but she couldn’t be sure. She was just a writer with ambition, an empty page, and thoughts to be shared.
Before I perform, I always remember this unlimited potential. I try to step forward as an Anne with dignity and discover new meaning behind her words. For instance: “I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are really good at heart.” Or perhaps: “I feel the suffering of millions.” As a role, Anne Frank is immensely intimidating. She is spunky and insecure, plain and beautiful, superficial and deep; she transforms from a flirty popular girl to an introspective thoughtful young woman. Anne’s story has a tragic well-known end, but within the Annex she never loses hope. She is not a saint: she has flaws. She is a teenager! She fights with her parents and feels misunderstood. Her dreadfully perfect sister Margot irritates her at times. Of course! So much energy and life is trapped within her. Anne is human and alive! She lives on!
In the play, Otto Frank tells Anne about the value of her diary. He says, “When I see you write in [your diary], I know you’ve found your world in there. You’re lucky.” Anne found her world in her diary, but I find my world in Anne. I feel as passionately about acting as she did about writing. I am lucky to have found this world in which I feel so alive. Anne says, “Unless you write yourself, you can’t know how wonderful it is. When I write, I shake off all my cares. But I want to achieve more than that. I want be useful and bring enjoyment to all people, even those I’ve never met.” I hope I am useful too. I hope to help bring her words to people, and that together we can bring enjoyment to people every night. I am most alive when I can share this story with an audience. I lose myself in her optimism, defiance, and zest for life. I want to let Anne’s spirit flow through me and share her with strangers.Anne says about a friend in concentration camp, “If only I could take you away and share everything I have with you.” Anne died in Bergen-Belsen. I still wish, more than 65 years later, that I could rescue Anne and share everything I have with her. I think Anne would have been as delightful and engaging as an actress as she was as a writer if she ever got the chance. I try to do what she never had a chance to do, and I share it all with her and the many other young people whose mark on the world was dimmed by the holocaust.
Posts
