Unlike ringmasters of old, who served mainly as announcers, Venardos is more of a character in the show, an emotional driving force for the events surrounding each act. "You might say I’m a theatrical device that keeps things moving forward," he explains. act with the performers in skits, interact with the audience, and sing throughout much of the show. It’s a full-scale production, and the music and movement are totally integrated." In fact, his singing is central to the other performers, since they attach their staging and movements to his songs (which were written by composer Jonathan Brielle and lyricist Glenn Slater for the show). As for the acting, a favorite role for Venardos is playing straight man to clown David Larible. "The knife gag’s a good one," Venardos says. He doesn’t want to give it all away, but it involves a blindfolded volunteer from the audience, a clown who can’t throw knives very well, and a ringmaster who has a slightly better aim. "Let’s just say I have to listen carefully and respond accurately," he laughs.

For those who’ve ever wanted to run away with the circus but wonder if it’s really as dramatic as it seems, Venardos insists it is: "Our career consists of making thousands of people a week happy." And he admires his colleagues tremendously. "Circus people are ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances. Like our audiences, they’re drawn to the danger involved, and their courage and skill are incredible. I trust these people with my own life."

Everyone --- some 350 people and most of the animals --- travels on the circus train together, bonded by what Venardos calls "the strongest work ethic I’ve ever seen." He has his own private 12-by-30-foot car, complete with bedroom, kitchen, washer/dryer, sofa, bathroom, and entertainment center. He shares it with his new Jack Russell terrier puppy, Nestor. Venardos says the living quarters are comfortable and in many ways better than where he lived in Queens. A good thing, considering the train crisscrosses the country each year for 11 months, visiting more than 90 cities and logging 25,000 or so miles. Venardos makes it a point to enjoy his opportunity to see so much of the country by visiting art galleries, going to the theater, and taking the time to walk around the different cities.

Of course, that old flip side called reality does intervene. The schedule, for instance, is more grueling than even a Broadway show’s. Venardos finds himself working 12- to 15-hour days, performing 13 times a week, doing three shows back-to-back some days. (The term "six-pack" carries a much different connotation than one might expect --- a six-pack weekend for Venardos now means doing three shows on Saturday and three on Sunday.) "I have to be really careful to take care of myself. I buy most of my own food so I can prepare it on the train." He does yoga, too, to keep in shape.

Such a schedule has put Venardos through tests he’d never dreamed of, and he’s grateful for the rigorous vocal and physical training he received at IC in preparation. "Before I got to IC, I hated structure. I had all this energy, but no clue about how to focus it. Professors like Susannah Berryman and Norm Johnson taught me stuff like body awareness, how to be comfortable in my own skin, how to make simple gestures have meaning. And Bev Patton, who was in charge of theater in the music program, was the first to show she had faith in me. I can’t tell you how much I needed that. Also, David Parks helped me approach my work from a relaxed place so I could stand still and sing. A lot of the rituals I do now to prepare for a show --- spine roll-downs, Alexander technique, different things I do to free up tension --- are based on what he taught me."

Still, for all the preparation and rehearsal, Venardos has learned that anything can happen, and all he can do is be flexible enough to roll with it. Like the time he saw one performer get part of his thumb chomped off by an alligator. Or when he found himself having to recover gracefully after stepping smack in the middle of a giant elephant turd in front of 20,000 people. "These things keep me humble," Venardos admits.

For other actors who have dreams, Venardos has encouraging words. "My first couple of years after school were tough. I started with zero. I took jobs waiting tables --- at one place, I even had to sing while I waited on people. I could barely pay my rent, but I still had to come up with money to pay for head shots, just to be ready in case something happened. I can’t tell you how many times I sent out mailings that cost hundreds of dollars and didn’t do a thing for me. But I knew in my heart what I wanted, and I wouldn’t quit." After a while, his persistence began to pay off: he got a role as the Man in the Yellow Hat in a production of Curious George, which led to appearances on the daytime drama Guiding Light. And then, of course, came the ad in Backstage and the role that Venardos calls "the opportunity of a lifetime."

As for the future, Venardos admits that Broadway still beckons. "If a hot role landed in my lap and I had a chance to do theater with intelligent people and material that’s challenging and important to me, would I take it? Sure. But for now, I’m happy doing what I’m doing, and I expect I’ll have to work just as hard for anything else I want to go after."