Despite a lifetime spent in theatre, until last week I had never heard the Italian term for wishing a performer a good show. Now I’m fascinated by it.
The phrase is in bocca al lupo, or “in the mouth of the wolf.” A little internet research reveals that the origin of this phrase is unclear, but likely stems from hunters wishing each other to be in dangerous situations as a means of warding off bad luck. The English phrase “break a leg” works the same way, by wishing ill fortune as a way to draw good fortune.
For me, though, the phrase “in the mouth of the wolf” conjures up something different. When an actor steps onstage, she is walking into the place of danger, of vulnerability. What will happen? Unlike film, where you can stop and start and redo, live theatre (and music, and and dance) happens in real time. The actors walk, knowingly, into the mouth of the wolf. They step boldly towards a situation most people avoid like they would a wild animal.
I imagine the actors poised between the teeth of a giant wolf. Their fear of judgement, of failure, does not keep them from venturing out. Instead, they engage that fear head-on. Indeed, knowing there is something to lose makes the experience more resonant, more valuable, more interesting for the audience.
When do you find yourself venturing out to the unknown, the frightening, the unsettling, the challenging? Where is the mouth of the wolf?
