"When you stand on the stage you must have a sense that you are addressing the whole world, and that what you say is so important the whole world must listen"

A stage is not just a platform; it is a vantage point from which the human condition can be seen in its widest horizon. To step onto it is to accept the burden and the privilege of speaking to humanity, not to a row of seats. That sense of magnitude demands an inner expansion: your thoughts must be big enough for continents, your feelings clear enough to cross borders, your purpose urgent enough to break through indifference.

Addressing the whole world does not mean generalizing. Paradoxically, the universal is reached through the fiercely particular: one person’s struggle, rendered with truth and detail, becomes everybody’s struggle. The actor’s job is to invest the smallest moment with consequence, to treat each word as if it carries news vital to our survival. Otherwise the audience senses the slack, the lack of stakes, and the event collapses into mere recitation.

The insistence that the world must listen is not a license for ego; it is a call to responsibility. You do not command attention; you earn it through clarity, courage, and presence. Voice, breath, and body become instruments of necessity. Choices must be brave, clean, and rooted in circumstances large enough to matter, love, justice, freedom, betrayal, dignity. When the purpose is great, the technique aligns.

Such an outlook also requires deep listening. To address the world, you must carry the world within you: its histories, its wounds, its languages and silences. Research, imagination, and empathy enlarge the self until it can hold multitudes. Then the audience, sensing that scale of care, leans forward.

Anything less is a failure of vision. The stage is a place where time concentrates and meaning accelerates. If you do not behave as if the fate of hearts depends on your words, the event evaporates. If you do, you offer an experience that justifies gathering in the dark: one human standing before others, speaking with the weight of life behind each syllable.