Alanna Kalbfleisch is currently a student at Arizona State University, pursuing a Bachelors in Business Communication. She says that although she loves business, she is completely crazy about art. She intends to use her business degree in a way that feeds and utilizes both of those passions. She feels fortunate to have performed in six productions at Theater Works in Peoria, which she considers to be a second home. Since graduating high school in 2013, she has performed in 11 productions across the Valley and garnered two ariZoni Award nominations for her work. Those productions include at Theater Works, Evelyn Nesbit in Ragtime, Betty Lou in National Pastime, "Anything Goes" and "My Heart Belongs to Daddy" vocalist in I Get a Kick Out of Cole (ariZoni nomination), Smitty in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, Oolie/Donna in City of Angels and Dot/Marie in Sunday in the Park with George. Her work at the Hale Center Theater includes Glinda/Aunt Em in The Wizard of Oz and Julia Farnsworth in Heaven Can Wait. At Mesa Encore Theatre she has been seen as Frenchy in Grease and Carrie in Carousel (ariZoni nomination) and at Desert Stages Theater, she played Sheila in Hair. She says she has learned nearly everything she knows about musicianship and vocal technique from Steve Hildebrand, the resident musical director at Theater Works.
Alanna, thank you for taking the time to answer a few questions. As my Sunday in the Park with George review clearly illustrates, I'm wildly impressed with your talent and ability. You seem extraordinarily relaxed on stage. When did you start performing?
I think many performers will tell you their earliest memories of performance are in their own living room. I'm certainly no different. I remember choreographing a solo number to "All For You" by Janet Jackson, which was track number 2 on the "Now (That's What I Call Music!) 7" CD when I was no more than 7 or 8. My mother, bless her heart, would drop anything/everything she was doing and watch me when I asked her to. After the performance, she would give me a full review, often including some tips on improving (usually enunciation), and I would storm off to my room saying things like "I just need your support!" Which I assume, coming from a 7 year old, she just laughed off. Though 15 years later, that is still my catchphrase if we ever get into an argument.
Mom put me in a million different dance lessons for about 8 or 9 years, until I quit because I was too self conscious about how quickly my curves were developing. I distinctly remember we were doing fittings for an upcoming recital and the moms who were helping out would say things like "When we took your measurements a month ago, this would have fit you. What have you been eating?" "Well, we know which costume is Alanna's because it's the biggest one of the bunch." I was tall, curvy and always in the front, inevitably covering up one of their precious, petite daughters... so they would take subtle jabs at me. I've since learned how to say "fuck you" to people like that. There's no room for that shit in art. We're all trying our best and we're all beautiful.
The first time I really ever performed in a real musical was at Rhodes Jr High (shoutout to Robin Hastings and Heather Sharpe who supported me through my genuinely horrible angsty years!) in Back to the 80's: the Totally Awesome Musical. There, I found my people. There, I felt a place of belonging and community. There, a 14 year old boy came out to me for the first time and I felt like a trusted, integral part of a person's life. I had never been an important part of anything before. That was when I realized, theater makes people more vulnerable and more trusting than anything else in the world - audiences and artists alike.
I went on to Dobson High School where I became extremely active in Speech and Debate, Drama club, choir, and a sketch comedy group called "Friday Night Live". I won't bore you with the specifics of each of these ventures but I will tell you that each of them taught me invaluable lessons. Simon Navarro, Jane Trayer, and Bart Evans could not have been a better triad of knowledge, support, and encouragement for my young, creative growth. Speech and Debate, and Jane Trayer specifically, taught me literally everything I know about subtleties in performance. She taught me how to breathe like the characters breathe. Choir with Bart Evans taught me how to sing not just with my voice, but with my heart. Simon Navarro taught me how to hold for laughs and how to give the people what they never knew they wanted. I cannot thank each of them enough for what they gave me. Especially Simon because he let me play Margaret in Light in the Piazza when I was 17. I can't believe he did that.
Then I graduated from Dobson High School in Mesa, AZ in 2013, and my three closest friends and I decided we would all audition for Grease at Mesa Encore Theater. We were all cast, and the rest is history (and thank God it is). I met a lot of amazing people who told me to audition for other shows, one of those shows being Ragtime at Theater Works, directed by Phillip Fazio and music directed by Steve Hildebrand. I was cast as a small bit part and I've been in love with those two men ever since. I've since done six shows with Steve and four with Phillip.
Oh! I've also been lucky enough to perform at Hale Center Theater twice in 2015, which was a theater my mom would often take me to since it opened in 2003! I remember seeing some of my now dear friends performing there and thinking they were actually celebrities at the time. Silly Alanna.
Your voice is outrageous - have you been studying all your life? You mentioned to me that Theater Works' musical director is responsible for your vocal technique. Has all your work with him been in the context of rehearsals for shows?
Thank you, that is very kind.
No, it's not. I'm not kind. I'm a bitch. Ask anybody. I have heard many voices on Broadway that don't hold a candle to yours.
Honestly, I haven't ever really studied vocal technique. I have been a part of various choral groups for about 10 years. I've learned the most about my own voice, and how to control it, through rehearsals with Steve Hildebrand. And yes, it has always been in the context of rehearsals for shows. I asked him once three years ago if he would give me regular private voice lessons and he said "Oh, no, I couldn't do anything for you, but I could recommend some people for you." He's so humble. He has no idea that he has completely shaped my voice and made it as healthy and strong as it is today. He also has no idea that I remember everything he tells me and I store it in a little piggy bank of tricks in the back of my head that I pull out when I'm stuck on a particularly difficult passage. Phrasing, placement, vowels, consonants, musicality; these are all things he alone has taught me in the context of being a soloist.
Although you come off as quite mature on stage, I was surprised to learn that you're only a few years out of high school.
You know, I've heard that all my life. I don't really know why. I have a round face and dimples. So you'd think that would equate to a Shirley Temple babyface sort of vibe, but people often think I'm older than I am. I always liked that growing up, but now that I'm 22, I don't necessarily think it's a compliment as much!
Ha! Honey. You're a baby. Gather those rosebuds while you can. Meanwhile, what are your short and long term goals as a performer?
As a performer, I don't know that my goals are necessarily long term. Here's the deal: I love theater and I love what it does for people. My mother and I were recently discussing why people go to the theater and what its purpose actually is. She argued, "The theater is a place you go so you can escape the world for a few hours" and I said "No, the theater is a place you go to examine and challenge the world we live in; stimulate conversation, increase empathy, and incite social change."
She simply doesn't think that patrons who buy tickets for Phantom of the Opera are looking to see their lives reflected on the stage. She believes they want to see the spectacle of a Broadway show and they want to pretend life outside those theater doors doesn't exist for 3 hours. To an extent, yes, but what they don't know is their brains are being manipulated, in the best way, to take someone else's story into their hearts and see things through their eyes. They are learning to empathize whether they realize it or not, and it can have a real impact on the way they live their lives.
Is every single patron leaving the theater going to talk about how Phantom reflects society? Probably not. Some people are just going to say "Wow, what a voice on that Christine" and go about their lives. But the people who do realize and appreciate the parallels will be changed in some way, be it big or small, and their scope will be broadened. Those are the people we do it for. Oh, and for the record, I hate Phantom of the Opera. Sorry bout it.
Bwah. I can't stand it either, and I've never understood how anybody could. But - no accounting for taste, and all that. Continue, please!
I don't think my goal is to be a performer, rather more of a person who makes theater happen. Whether that is being an actor, a designer, a director, a patron, a donor, a supporter, an observer, or the executive director of a theater company, that's completely up to fate, really. All I want is to be a part of the progression of this art. I like the feeling you have when you walk out of a theater and you feel like a different person than when you walked in. That's incredibly important to me. I've felt that way after watching Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella on Broadway, as well as after watching Stupid f-ing Bird at Stray Cat Theater. It can happen at any show for any reason. I need to be a part of making that happen for people. That's my goal. There you go! Oh please cut anything that makes me sound dumb/long winded!
As if! Your narrative is priceless, and you're a treasure. I'm so glad you make the trek to the West Valley. What's next for you?
Well, I actually have nothing planned. I'm hoping you'll see me at least once next season, if I'm lucky! I'll definitely be in the audience though; you can count on that.Boo.
Well, folks, I suggest you keep Alanna on your radar. She'll knock your socks off.
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