 |
Remembering Sarah Fox: Master of the Sly Smile By NICHOLAS MENNELL
Sam and Lorraine Fox are two of the strongest and most courageous people I've ever met. Which doesn't surprise me because those are two words that define my memory of Sarah. Sarah was a bundle of joy and happiness that lit up the lives of everyone she met. A reflection, to me, of everything that's good about this world.
 |
| Sarah (foreground) played Athena in the third-year production of The Odyssey in October 2003. Pictured with her are (left to right) Mandy Steen, Nick Mennell, and Keith Chappelle. (Photo by Jessica Katz) |
|
When I was asked to speak on our group's behalf, it was my desire to somehow share a little something from everyone. But each one of us has so many special memories of her that it became an impossible task to accurately reflect and represent the impression she made on all of our hearts. The following is my best attempt to do so. I will begin with the impression she left on mine.Sarah was one of 20 people who were accepted into the Juilliard Drama Division's Group 34. We began our journey there in the early fall of 2001. September 11 was our second day at school. Like most of us, my entire existence was changed by the tragic events of that day; I felt lost, confused, and alone. I remember how difficult it was for me to be around people. I often took any opportunity outside of class to be alone.I was sitting in the cafeteria by myself one day when this little girl comes and sits across from me. I cast my eyes down and shuffled some food into my mouth, hoping that this would be a clear enough signal that I preferred not to have company."Hi, Nick Mennell," she said, immediately catching me off-guard. "How are you doing?" I nodded my head and forced a smile, hoping it would end at that."O.K., just checkin'," she said. "I'm Sarah Fox."It wasn't until then that I looked up and really took her in. She looked like a pixie: short, blond hair; beautiful, blue eyes, and a magically dimpled smile. In fact, she reminded me of all the pictures and sculptures of angels that adorn my mother's house. Just a lot hipper. She sat there, smiling warmly at me. I immediately regretted having been so cold to this little angel. But before I could apologize, she jumped up and said cheerfully, "See ya later."Meeting her is my first memory of comfort after the events of 9/11. She had a face and smile that inspired hope and reminded me of a sweeter side of life. A hint that I would be O.K.; that together we would all be O.K.I asked Sarah a year or so later if she remembered how cold I had been. "No," she said. "I thought you were nice."Whether it was outside a classroom or inside, Sarah was always a pleasure to be around. She brought a vibrant, invigorating, fun energy into every room. It was a gift that she gave of generously to all of us. From the secret "booty dance" she shared with Mauricio—to the "silent tribute to flat-chested women" she shared with Jessica—to the inspirational note she snuck in and left in David's locker—to the special tickle-hugs she shared with Oscar—to the night she spun Colby around, telling him how much she loved life because she and Matt D'Amico were going to start dating—Sarah brought a sparkle into all of our lives.
 |
|
Sarah was always there to give you what you needed: the right words, the perfect hug, or just her smile that let you know you weren’t alone.
|
|
|
As another of my classmates, Jacob Fishel, told me: "She was always there at just the right moment to give you exactly what you needed. The right words, the perfect hug, or just her smile that let you know you weren't alone and someone cared."He told me it was Sarah's power of observation that most impressed him. I agreed. She always watched her fellow thespians without judgment, intensely curious. When you were taking risks, she made you feel like you could do no wrong. If you were asked to do a Shakespearean monologue as a giant penguin, she had the power to make you feel like you were Marlon Brando. If you'd never sung, she'd make you feel like Barbra Streisand. Weren't funny? Groucho Marx. She was the ultimate audience member and the ultimate actor.Sarah was one of the most incredible people to watch on stage. Every one of Sarah's performances was memorable. And that is every actor's dream, but she made it a reality. A friend told me once, after seeing her play the lead in Brecht's Caucasian Chalk Circle: "She makes me feel like I'm running in a giant grass field on a sunny day with a litter of puppies."As one of our classmates, David Townsend, helped me to understand: "Like a child, her silent intuition had the ability to make you feel safe and happy, as though there was nothing more important than the present moment."Richard Feldman, one of our acting teachers, quoted Sarah as having once said: "My favorite part about theater is that you can't do it alone."Sarah always seemed to possess the binding power in our group's endeavors: the final touch. As Rebecca Brooksher said to me: "If, in theory, each of our productions was a gift to our audiences, Sarah was the ribbon."Last October, we performed a new adaptation of Homer's Odyssey. It was an ensemble show in which Sarah, like most of us, was asked to play multiple roles. In one of the most memorable scenes in the play, she played a character named Kalupse, an alluring nymph who was inquisitive, charming, and pure, whose sole desire was to understand the human heart. Sarah was never better cast.Sarah also played the goddess Athena, who was my character's guardian protector. Now, one might doubt that little Sarah Fox could convincingly play the guardian of a 6-foot 5-inch, 200-pound man. But the power that emanated from her 5-foot 2-inch frame was a force to be reckoned with and captivated us all, on stage and off.One of her lines as Athena will always remain with me and resonates now in my memory: "You will not see me but you will feel me by your side."One more story: A little over a year ago, we were in rehearsal for Chekhov's Three Sisters when I photographed a headshot of Sarah in one of her charming signature moments, with her fingers at her mouth. And I remember looking through the lens thinking, you are so beautiful, so unique. Her expression lit up the camera, as it did my heart.In fact, that following summer, when I was desperate for some way to earn a buck, that photograph inspired me to try and start shooting headshots to earn money. I called Sarah to see if it was O.K. with her that I use her photograph to advertise. We played phone tag a couple of times and then her phone got temporarily disconnected, so I decided in the meantime that I'd create the flyer, and then that way, I could show it to her for her approval when we finally got in touch.I went to the School's computer lab to create it and when I finished, I printed it out and then checked my e-mail. As I was checking my e-mail I heard a familiar voice say, "Hey, there's a flyer with my picture on it." I was mortified. I jumped up, and before I could formulate an apology, she said, "That's pretty cool, dude."I explained to her what I was hoping to do. I swore that I'd only make about 10 to 20 flyers. "I won't put them all over the city," I promised. But sure enough, after she disappeared, with the help of her neighbors, friends, and family, we broke that promise 1,000 times over (almost exactly) and posted that beautiful pixie smile all over the country. Something that I hope Sarah, looking down on us all, might have found to be "pretty cool."
Sarah was a force of goodness, a force of beauty and of light that has been (I believe) temporarily concealed by a force of darkness—only to shine twice as brightly somewhere beyond this world in a place more suited to her design.To conclude, I would like to quote Sarah's nymph from the Odyssey: "I must let you go—I've made myself believe that you are mine but this isn't true—it can't be—you don't belong to me; you belong somewhere else—and the gods know that. I've come to say goodbye and to thank you for allowing me into your heart—for giving me a part of it."Nicholas Mennell, a fourth-year drama student, wrote the tribute on this page as a eulogy for Sarah Fox and delivered it at her funeral.
|
