Kirsten Hopkins is a Management regular (fans will recognize her as Avery from Lonesome Winter), Upper West Side-er, and musical theater enthusiast. We sat downtown to have an intimate, fireside chat. (Okay, it was all over email.) Herein we discussed sad eyes, men and musicals.

The Management: You play Beth, a sort of adversary to Marci. For such a sweet person, you sure do play a lot of unpleasant b*tches. Why do you think that is? Or is it just The Management that casts you this way?
Hopkins: I do get cast as that kind of girl a lot. That, and male characters. Whenever there’s girls playing guy roles, I’ll be cast in the guy role, without fail. I think it’s my weird face and flat chest? I don’t really know. A review ofLonesome Winter described me as “sad-eyed”. I guess people see my face and think, “This girl’s more sour than sweet”?
The Management: Do you find any pleasure in playing characters that have no filter or are aggressive or outwardly unpleasant? Is it freeing in some way?
Hopkins: Oh absolutely. It’s fun. It’s my inner child getting to come out and play. And by child I mean, bossy big sister. Which I usually keep well-hidden. Though my brother would probably tell you different.
The Management: This is a really a comedy about missed connections and loneliness, especially between people in their 30s. Not to get too personal or too Sex and the City about it, but what do you think are the unique trappings of being a single woman in her 30s in this city? What’s so great or awful about it that people document it in plays and films and TV shows and books?
Hopkins: Well, it’s a well known fact that us straight single girls do vastly outnumber the straight single guys here in New York. So that’s a challenge I guess…My fellow cast member Penny and I were just recently talking about how it seems like all our friends back home (our respective smaller towns from whence we came) are married and having babies now. We’re just at that age. But in New York it’s totally normal to be a gal in your thirties and be single and pursuing your career so fervently that you don’t really have the time or energy to pursue a relationship as well. But of course the catch is—wah wah—loneliness.
You know the Petula Clark song “Downtown”? That is my theme song for New York. Because life can get really lonely here. But sometimes all it takes is a trip to a different neighborhood and the city itself just cheers me up. “Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city. Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty…”
The Management: What kind of play exhilarates you? Also, what’s your dream role?
Hopkins: I don’t know if I can define what it is that makes a play exhilarating to me. I guess it’s a combination of tight writing, great acting and whether the particular subject matter is something I care about. And music that moves me, if it’s a musical. Some specifics that leap to mind without me going to reference my Playbills are Ragtime, Sunday in the Park with George, your own MilkMilkLemonade, The Pride by Alexi Kaye Campbell, Hand to God by Rob Askins, the first act of By the Way, Meet Vera Stark (the second act not so much)…Oh, and I LOVED the staged reading The Management did of Josh Beerman’s play this past winter…The brilliant Meg Sturiano directed that, as well. As I told her at the time, I forgot it was a reading, I got so drawn into the story.
There are a lot of roles I’d like to play some day but my one big dream role is (not to sound lofty, but it is my dreamrole after all), Shaw’s Saint Joan. I love, love, love what Shaw/Joan says in that play. And she’s right up my alley in terms of characters I’ve been playing lately, right? I mean, she looks a bit like a boy and she’s not afraid to be unpleasant to get what she wants.
The Management: Time to smack talk. What would you like to see way less of in theater? What drives you crazy?
Hopkins: Movies being turned into musicals. Okay, sometimes it works in a great way. See Hairspray. But it is getting out of hand. Dances with Wolves? No. Just no. Watch, it’ll probably end up being a great show and I’ll probably end up regretting saying that…
Oh, you know what drives me crazy? Intimate plays being put on in houses that are way to big for them. I was in the balcony when I saw Red on Broadway, and there were more than a couple moments when the two actors were just standing there looking at each other, and I thought, “Gee, I bet this would be a lot more moving if I could see the expressions on their faces!”
The Management: Do you have any theater guilty pleasures? Any plays you feel are misunderstood or that you have to stick up for?
Hopkins: Geez, I feel like I have to stick up for Ragtime and Sunday in the Park with George all the time. And, okay, I’m going to take a big breath and admit this: I stick up for Andrew Lloyd Webber. I KNOW, I KNOW. The thing is, though I agree with most of the dismissive comments that are made about him and his shows, he’s one of the reasons I’m in theater today. I think I was twelve when I first saw The Phantom of the Opera and it rocked my world. And I recognize all it’s faults now but back then, that experience of live theater on that kind of scale just grabbed my heart and made me think, I want to be a part of THAT!
The Management: Do you like parties?
Hopkins: Ha, not really, no. I have major anxiety about striking up conversations with strangers and I don’t like getting drunk, doing drugs, loud music; you know, basically everything that makes up a party. In terms of party-going, I think the character in this play that I most relate to is Carl. He went to his coworker’s party hoping that he would get to actually have a real conversation with the guy, but of course he never does and he just ends up feeling incredibly uncomfortable and out of place. That’s generally my experience at parties too. I’d rather just meet a couple of friends for brunch or a game of Scrabble or something.
The Management: What’s the recipe for a perfect party?
Hopkins: As someone who’d generally like to be in bed asleep before midnight, I am obviously not the right person to answer this question. But I guess, for my version of a party, Scrabble, Trivial Pursuit, tea, scones. Woo hoo, party girl.
Your Boyfriend May Be Imaginary runs at UNDER St. Marks April 4th-28th.
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