Fast chat: Cathy Rigby is Peter Pan

Never say retire. Cathy Rigby tried it a few years back. But the urge to fly is tough to kick. So here she is, at 59, touring the country in the title role of a new production of "Peter Pan," which hit the Theater at Madison Square Garden last week and runs through Dec. 30.

Decades before all the fuss about a certain comic-book hero flying on Broadway, there was Mary Martin in the 1950s, and later Sandy Duncan, taking to the air in the musical based on J.M. Barrie's classic tale. Starting in 1974, Rigby leapt in. Her Pete does handstands and aerial stunts, capitalizing on her skills as an Olympian who won the first American gymnastics medal in international competition (a silver on balance beam at the 1970 World Championships).

She has appeared in other shows ("Annie Get Your Gun," "Paint Your Wagon" and "Seussical," as the Cat in the Hat), but is indelibly linked with this role, having played it 3,000-plus times. (She was nominated for a Tony Award.)

Rigby lives south of Los Angeles with her husband, two dogs, several finches and a cockatoo. Newsday contributor Joseph V. Amodio chatted with her recently before a sword-fighting rehearsal.

Thanks for taking time out --

I know you want to get those sword scenes right. The swords aren't real but are still pointy, right?

They're heavy and can do damage. A few years ago, I flew fast into the crow's nest, and put my hands out to stop myself, and the sword ricocheted off the set and cut me over the eye. I started bleeding. The audience thought it was a great special effect. I finished the show but ended up with about 15 stitches.

Yikes.

But honestly, Joe, I love doing this show. As an actress, to have a character you're so familiar with and be able to play with that -- it's taught me so much. I always say I'm probably the healthiest adult I know because I get to be a kid.

So why did you try to retire the role?

You worry about age. Am I believable? But I realized this is what I'm supposed to do. You know, we really do put limits on ourselves. But I have this optimism that it'll be OK.

Have you always been optimistic?

I used to think, "I can do it -- but it has to be perfect." Which gets in the way of creativity. You white-knuckle things. Get injured more. Now . . . I know what I have to do, and I . . . trust.

I heard you were pretty terrified when you first started performing.

I was. When the difference between a gold medal and . . . no medal is five hundredths of a point, it makes you a perfectionist. I got a review once for "Peter Pan" that said "Every 't' is crossed, every 'i' is dotted and Cathy's as predictable as her balance-beam routine." I thought, "Good -- oh . . . no . . . that's not good!" [She laughs.] It was the best review I ever got. Because I had to go, OK, you need to be alive up there, not a robot. That works for gymnastics, not acting. You go, "Look, nobody gives a rat's rear end about your being perfect."

Do you think you connect to Peter Pan because your own childhood was cut short?

My childhood was similar to Peter Pan . . . competing, taking risks. But gymnastics is a lonely world. You're alone up there. I've a sense of adventure now that I enjoy -- I couldn't as a kid.

But you're still doing handstands.

Yeah, and all the arching, twisting, flipping in the air. I feel pretty good.

What do you think of all the "Spider-Man" hoo-hah?

I think sometimes the more machinery takes over, there's more chance for things to go wrong. Our show isn't computerized. The wire holds 1,200 pounds, so I'm not too worried. And I've got two guys I've worked with for 20 years who'll grab the rope if something goes wrong.

So you're spending the holidays in New York.

Yes, we've done it before. One Christmas, my husband -- who's a great chef -- was going to bake a turkey, but we got home from one of the shows and the oven had turned off. We had to microwave it. [A big laugh.]

Did that work?

No, it was awful. But the cast members didn't care. We made turkey sandwiches.

Your kids are grown now, yes?

Yes. I have two granddaughters, and a new one on the way.

What do the grandkids think of grandma's flying?

My oldest granddaughter told a lady on a plane once that, "My nana is Peter Pan and the Cat in the Hat." [She chuckles.] It's a distinction not many nanas get to have.