What New York City Taught Me About Performing

Last week I went to New York City for the first time.

For someone who loves musical theatre as much as I do, that almost feels strange to say. Broadway has lived in my imagination for most of my life. For years, it felt like this distant, almost mythical place where the very best performers in the world existed at a level far beyond the rest of us.

But maybe it was perfect timing that I went now instead of twenty years ago. I didn’t go as an eighteen-year-old dreaming about a Broadway stage. I went as a teacher, a coach, and someone who spends her time helping performers build strength, stamina, and confidence through musical theatre training.

And New York taught me a lot—not just about Broadway, but about performers, training, and what success in this industry can actually look like.

Performers Are Human

One of the most surprising things about seeing Broadway shows live was how human the performers felt.

Before this trip, Broadway existed in my mind as a place of perfection. I imagined performers who never made mistakes, never ran out of breath, and delivered flawless vocals every single night.

The reality is both more impressive and more relatable.

Yes, the talent level is extraordinary. But I also heard flat notes. I noticed moments when singers were clearly working hard to manage breath while dancing. I saw small imperfections that reminded me how incredibly demanding live performance really is.

And oddly enough, that was reassuring.

The performers who succeed at the highest level aren’t perfect—they’re prepared. They have the stamina, technique, and resilience to keep performing at an elite level even when things don’t go exactly as planned.

Although I will say this: when Jeremy Jordan sings live, it does feel like something supernatural is happening. Some performers really are operating on a completely different frequency.

Some Things Have to Be Experienced in Person

I had a similar realization standing in front of a Van Gogh painting at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

You can see photographs of Van Gogh’s work your entire life. You can study the colors and recognize the images instantly. But standing in front of the actual painting is a completely different experience. You can see the thickness of the paint. The brush strokes move and swirl across the canvas in ways that photographs never capture.

Live theatre works the same way.

Cast recordings are wonderful, but the energy of live performance is something entirely different. The sound vibrates through the room. The actors respond to the audience. The storytelling feels alive and immediate.

It reminded me why live theatre continues to matter so much. It creates an experience that can’t be replicated through a screen.

Choreography Retention Is a Real Skill

While I was in New York, I took several classes at Steps on Broadway. Walking into those studios was a humbling and energizing experience at the same time.

One thing became clear very quickly: if you want to dance professionally, you must be able to learn choreography fast.

Even the beginner classes moved quickly, and the intermediate classes moved at a pace that required serious focus and agility. The dancers who stood out weren’t necessarily the ones with the highest kicks or the flashiest turns. They were the ones who could absorb choreography almost immediately and start performing it while still learning the sequence.

Choreography retention is a real skill, and it’s one that can be trained.

That realization actually reaffirmed something for me about the kind of work I do with theatre fitness. When we combine choreography with conditioning, mobility, and endurance, we are training performers to think, move, and perform at the same time. Those are the exact demands dancers face in high-level classes and professional rehearsal spaces.

Being the Beginner Again Is Good for You

One of the most valuable parts of this trip was putting myself back in the role of the student.

At thirty-nine years old, I was standing in a studio surrounded by dancers in their twenties who are actively pursuing professional careers. As we worked through combinations, I had a moment that many performers know well. I caught myself thinking, “Wow… they picked that up faster than I did.”

When I was younger, that thought would have spiraled quickly into insecurity. This time, something different happened.

It turned into admiration.

I genuinely enjoyed watching the dancers who were completely in the pocket of the choreography. Instead of comparing myself to them, I found myself appreciating the skill it took to move that confidently and fluidly.

There’s a valuable mindset shift in that experience. You don’t have to be the best person in the room in order to grow in the room. Sometimes the best thing you can do as a performer is stay curious, stay humble, and keep learning.

Broadway Is Incredible, But It Isn’t the Only Stage

New York City has an undeniable magnetism. The sheer volume of creative energy in that city makes you want to be part of it.

But that same magnetism also highlights something important about the performing arts industry: there are thousands of talented people competing for a very small number of opportunities.

Watching that environment made me think about something I often tell my students. Broadway is an extraordinary stage, but it is not the only stage that exists.

The world is full of places where performers can create meaningful work. Community theatres, regional companies, educational programs, touring productions, and creative projects all provide opportunities to tell stories and connect with audiences.

Your impact as an artist is not limited to one location or one type of stage. The real goal is building skills that allow you to contribute, perform, and create wherever you are.

The Performers Who Last Love the Work

Another thing that became clear during this trip is that the people who stay in this industry for the long haul are the ones who genuinely love the work itself.

Performing careers are unpredictable. Auditions come and go, opportunities appear and disappear, and the path rarely looks the way anyone originally imagined.

The performers who thrive over time are the ones who find joy in the training, the rehearsals, and the process of continual improvement. Their motivation isn’t just applause or recognition. It’s the work itself.

What This Means for My Students

One of the most encouraging realizations I had in New York was that the type of training performers need is exactly the type of training we are building.

Strength matters. Endurance matters. Mobility matters. The ability to pick up choreography quickly and perform confidently under pressure matters.

Whether someone’s stage ends up being Broadway, a college program, a regional theatre, or a classroom full of students, those skills translate everywhere.

That’s why this work feels so meaningful to me. The goal was never just preparing someone for a single stage. The goal is helping performers become stronger, more capable, and more confident human beings who can step into whatever stage their life places in front of them.

And those stages exist everywhere.

Also worth mentioning: Serendipity’s fries served from a mini trash can may have changed my life, and their frozen hot chocolate absolutely lives up to the legend.

What This Means for Theatre Students Right Now

If you’re a theatre student, there are a few things I hope you take away from this.

First, the professionals you admire are not perfect. They are highly trained, highly prepared human beings doing extremely demanding work. That means the things that help you improve are not mysterious. Consistent training, building stamina, learning to pick up choreography quickly, and developing strong technique will take you farther than waiting for natural talent to magically appear.

Second, it’s normal to be the person in the room who needs a little more time to figure things out. Every performer has experienced that moment of looking around and realizing someone else picked up the choreography faster or sang the phrase more easily. The goal is not to be the fastest learner every time. The goal is to stay curious, keep working, and continue developing your skills.

Third, the stage you imagine today might not be the only stage where your talents will shine. Broadway is an incredible place, but meaningful work in the arts happens in many different spaces. Schools, community theatres, regional companies, touring productions, and creative collaborations all give performers opportunities to tell stories and connect with audiences.

The real goal is not just reaching one specific destination. The real goal is becoming a performer who is strong, skilled, resilient, and capable of contributing wherever you go.

Those are the kinds of skills that open doors in ways you might not even see yet.