This article was originally published at Shondaland.com
The multitalented multi-hyphenate chats with Shondaland about what hurts her, what heals her, and the juicy Broadway role she’d love to revive.
Like the song she sang as the original Glinda in Wicked on Broadway, Kristin Chenoweth, the Emmy and Tony award-winning, Hollywood Walk of Fame star-honored actress, voiceover star, and master singer, has — yes, we have to say it — talent that defies gravity.
Having just wrapped season two of Schmigadoon!, the Apple TV+ musical series with Cecily Strong and Keegan-Michael Key, Chenoweth jumped on a Zoom call with Shondaland from Omaha, Nebraska, where she was scheduled to perform a free concert at the opening of the Gene Leahy Mall — a place she describes as a “mini Hollywood Bowl.” Positivity and warmth seem to exude from her pores and through to my 13-inch screen. “I’m doing stuff from a lot of my records,” Chenoweth says of the concert, “from Lesley Gore to Leonard Bernstein. It’s all over the map. I just want people to come and enjoy the music. We’ve had such an interesting time in our world; I just want people to have fun.”
Indeed, Chenoweth has always led with the sunnier side of her life, whether onstage (in musicals like You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown; Wicked; and Promises, Promises) or on-screen (in shows like Glee and Pushing Daisies). But as of late, she’s also been up to something more serious: Chenoweth hosted and produced ABC News’ Keeper of the Ashes: The Oklahoma Girl Scout Murders, a harrowing docuseries about the sexual assault and murder of three of her Girl Scout friends in 1977 during a trip she was supposed to take but didn’t. Chenoweth says she was grateful to be the one to tell the story. “I wanted to be the one to do it because I wanted to do it with care, and I wanted the families to be taken care of,” she says. “It was as if God said, I want you to do this.”
Though Chenoweth’s sunny, positive vibe can make her seem energetically invincible, she revealed a very human health issue she’s been grappling with for years — chronic migraines. Anyone who’s experienced the relentless pain of migraine (the American Migraine Foundation estimates that at least 39 million of us do) knows they are no joke, and Chenoweth says they’ve derailed some of her shiniest moments. “I have kaleidoscope auras triggered by lights shining, which is awful because I’m an actor,” she says. “The night that I won the Emmy [for Pushing Daisies], I was doing the paparazzi, which triggered a migraine. I went away in an ambulance because nobody knew what to do with me. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t hear, I was throwing up, I was so sick.”
Chenoweth describes another experience when spotlights likely triggered a debilitating migraine during the worst possible time. “I was 25 years old. I was doing the Virginia Symphony. I don’t know if it was the spotlight that triggered it, but in the intermission, I crawled off the stage,” she describes. “And the pounding, pounding, pounding — it’s like an ax!” Given her experience, Chenoweth partnered with Center Stage with Chronic Migraine to share her long history with chronic migraines in the hope of helping others find a solution that works for them. For her, that solution was Botox injections every 12 weeks. “It has allowed me to do what I love to do,” says Chenoweth. “It’s really helped me so much.”
And thankfully so, given Chenoweth’s immeasurable talent, on which even she can’t always keep the tightest lid. When I ask who her earliest inspirations were, rather than answer, she simply bursts into song — namely a line from The Sound of Music, referencing her adoration for Dame Julie Andrews. “Sometimes when you can’t speak, you must sing!” Chenoweth says, smiling. “I was little, young, young, [when she first saw The Sound of Music] and I went, I want to do that! I also related to [Julie Andrews] because — and I love belting, I belt in my shows, but the screaming that’s going on lately, I can’t relate to that — I love technique, and she had technique. Also, what I loved so much is that she’s a fantastic actress. I consider myself an actor who sings. Though my degree is in opera performance, I think that technique has allowed me to do all different kinds of music and also play all different kinds of roles. So, Julie is a huge mentor.”
Here’s what I would tell myself then, and now: You are in charge of your career. And don’t sweat the small stuff.
She also reverently mentions Dolly Parton as a formative influence. “I love her so much,” Chenoweth beams. “Watching her say, I’m not going to sell my music; I own this thing. When you listen to Whitney Houston’s barn-burner version of ‘I Will Always Love You’ — I’m always going to go back to the source, because I love me my Dolly. But Whitney had such a hit with it, and Dolly is sitting there going, thank you, ka-ching, ka-ching, ka-ching. Watching her not only in her talent but as a businesswoman has been helpful to me as well.”
In her own career, Chenoweth continues to wear her many hats as she performs live, appears on TV, and keeps an eye on the stage. As for the role she would revise given the opportunity, Chenoweth chooses a challenge. “For some reason, I keep getting cast in the hardest female roles written for Broadway,” she says. “Candide was hard, but this is what I do; this is my lane. Madeline Kahn created the role, and it never was revived — I promised Adolph Green and Betty Comden before they passed that I would do the role. It’s operatic, you have to dance your butt off, you have to sing your face off, and you have to be very funny.”
There’s not much Kristin Chenoweth hasn’t done. But knowing what she knows now about the entertainment business, I had to ask: What advice would she take back to that young girl singing The Sound of Music around the house? “I usually say, if you can see yourself doing anything else and being happy, do that other thing because this is very challenging and wonderful but hard,” she says. “I can’t give myself that advice because I always knew my passion. I was very lucky because I knew what my purpose was going to be. Here’s what I would tell myself then, and now: You are in charge of your career. And don’t sweat the small stuff.”