Overcoming Stage Fright is Like Crashing the Lunar Lander

by Drew Holmes

There is a concept I have heard of from friends who have served in the military called “stress-proofing” which, in practice, is putting yourself into stressful situations that are just at the edge of your ability to accomplish. By gradually increasing the difficulty, your capacity for managing stress also increases and you develop the ability thrive in stressful situations.

While preparing for the Apollo 11 mission, Neil Armstrong trained on a lunar module simulator. The machine would hover a couple of hundred feet above the ground and he would attempt to safely land it, learning the nuances of what was cutting-edge technology along the way. This was, however, a notoriously difficult craft to pilot.

During one of Armstrong’s test landings a valve clogged, and the simulator started to turn on its side. When it reached about 90 degrees, his pilot instincts kicked in and he ejected, crashing the module but escaping unhurt.

Later that day he was filling out an incident report when fellow astronaut Alan Bean poked his head into the office do say hi. Bean had not heard about the crash and ascribed no importance to Armstrong’s nonchalant response of “Fine” to his question of “How are you doing?”

Later, when Bean heard Armstrong had crashed the lander, he went back to him and asked if that was true.

“Oh yeah, yeah. Those are tippy things, and down it went,” was the reply and Neil Armstrong made no further mention of the incident. He was so immune to the stress of that life-or-death situation that mentioning the crash to his colleagues had slipped his mind.

A similar (but significantly less lethal) situation occurred when the Loveland Orchestra was performing Rimsky-Korsakov’s Sheherezade. The principal trumpet part is notoriously difficult, with several prominent solos and many technical passages of double and triple tonguing. Fortunately, I was sitting second trumpet and would be a spectator for most of the precarious parts.

Or so I thought.

After the first rehearsal, the principal trumpet player asked me if I would switch parts and play first trumpet for that piece. Being a huge fan of the work, I said yes, only realizing later what I had actually agreed to. Having performed more concerts that I can remember I know what is involved in preparing a piece like that. I planned several weeks of intense practice and by the concert was ready.

Jamie attended the performance, one of the first times she had heard me play trumpet in concert. Scheherezade was the final piece before intermission, and she approached me during the break with a combination of wonder and panic.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be playing by yourself so much!” she exclaimed.

“You were nervous for me?” I asked.

“I was nervous for everyone!” she replied.

Like Neil Armstrong, in the moment I did not think anything was out of the ordinary. I had properly prepared and then performed to the best of my abilities, reaching a state of calm and focus similar to what athletes call being in “the zone”. As much as something like performing 20th Century Russian music can be, it was another day at the office.

Stage fright, the panic that occurs when the stress of performing becomes overwhelming, is something all performers must overcome. We do not rise to the occasion; we revert to our training. Each time we get on stage and perform we build up the ability to not only function but thrive on stage. Fortunately, that can be done without crashing the lunar lander.