All You Need is Love

Thank you, Beatles, for letting me borrow your song title for my blog title.  Please don't sue me.  I use it with the greatest respect and admiration.

Anyway.

I found myself yesterday thinking once again on the question of "Who is the best Doctor," which brings me back to my issues with the current run of Doctor Who.  Don't get me wrong, I still love the show. I just have...issues.  I'm not sure with whom I have the greatest issues - they are probably a combination of things - but they are there and I have tried and tried and tried to get over them, but they're still there.  And one of them has to do with love.

I feel like the current run is missing love.

Now, before you jump down my throat, let me say that I am not specifically looking for a romantic relationship on the show.  They've done that. There are many many kinds of love and I would like to see at least one be well represented but I'm not seeing that and my super crazy train of thought brought me around to this statement:

Actors need to be able to love.

I think in large part, who or what we love and how we love those things define us as people.  Love of self, love of others, love of power, love of money.  These are very strong motivators.  The woman who can lift a car off of her child who is trapped below knows the power of love for others.  Industry tycoons know love of power and money.  These loves shape what we do, how we interact with others, what we want, and how we go about getting what we want. I think they are an essential part of the human experience.

Loving something strongly is a frightening business, though, because that love can overpower all other desires and can make us do (or want to do) seemingly unreasonable, potentially harmful things.  If that love is ever taken away, too, the potential for pain is immense. But as actors, I think we can't let those fears get in our way.  People (for the most part) write plays about "the day something happened that was different from every other day," and those happenings usually mess with someone's love.  As actors, we need to love that thing to begin with so it's particularly upsetting when that love is messed with.

I think every actor needs to approach every project by asking at least once in the rehearsal process, "What does this character love?"  The stronger that answer, the stronger the performance will be.  If a character and/or actor truly loves something, the audience will be able to relate because they likely really love something, too.  If the actor is afraid or doesn't know how to fully invest himself in loving that thing while on stage, the audience will be able to see it.  I think these are what we call "unbelievable" performances.  "I just didn't buy him as a killer."  Because the actor didn't fully invest in whatever sort of sick pleasure that character gets out of killing.

Side note: As in the case above of someone playing a serial killer, I'm not saying the actor has to then love killing.  He or she does, however, need to figure out why the character loves killing and explore that.  Then he or she needs to turn that off when he or she goes home so he or she can continue to lead a normal, non-serial killer lifestyle.


Actors need to be able to love.

The theater is a safe space to get your heart broken and have your emotional guts ripped out.  If you are going to love something with abandon, the theater is the place to do it.  So do it.  Make the choice to love something for the sake of your character and the sake of your performance. You'll be so glad you did.

I. Love. Theater.

I have spent the past two evenings chatting about plays with other actors and playwrights and directors and I have to say, I love theater.

I love theater.

I.

Love.

Theater.

I love theater because it is a collaborative art.

Which may seem a bit odd in light of how much I love Susan Cain's TED speech and how excited I am to read her new book.  She talks about how essential "alone" time is for the introvert and the artist and the creative process and as an introverted artist, I am almost brought to tears that someone finally vocalized that thought.  It is such a huge relief to know that the time I spend in my own head working on a character (or blog post or video or song or whatever) is a good thing and that it's okay for me to do that.

But I love theater because it is a collaborative art.

I spent the past two evenings surrounded by other artists who had done their homework and came to the table with thoughts and ideas and questions and we all talked about those things in a safe, open setting, all for the purpose of creating even greater art down the line. We all had a common goal.  We may have had different ideas or opinions, but every opinion was heard and welcomed and considered.  Every voice appreciated.  Plus, there was a lot of laughter and connection that came out of each evening, too.

I guess my thing about being an introvert is this - people make me tired.  Most of the time.  I like doing things by myself.  But every now and again, I do need that little bit of external stimulus to wake me up or give me a little nudge or something to get my own creative juices flowing again.  And then I need to go off and explore those creative impulses on my own so I can present them to others in appropriate manner, but that little bit of a spark or a jump start or a whatever is a good thing every now and again.  I love it that I get that in theater, when you bring the actors, the director, the playwright, the producers, the designers, the dramaturg, the stage managers all together into one room and everyone wants to make the absolute best end product possible and it's brilliant when everyone can put their egos on a shelf for an evening and you all just...collaborate.  You work together.  Because in theater, the sum is so much greater than any of the parts.

I love theater.  I love that I get to be involved in this type of creative process that so beautifully blends solo and group work.  I feel so humbled and grateful when I get to be in a room like the one I was in last night or the night before, full of intelligent people who can express themselves and who are willing to listen to others.  How on earth did I get so lucky?

I.

Love.

Theater.

Conquering the Audition

Thrice in my life, I have been fortunate enough to sit on the other side of the table during auditions - twice as a director and last night as a reader.  I would recommend to any actor, do this if you can.  Get on the other side of the table, even just once, for the sake of your own auditioning skills.  It's an eye opener.

My grandfather was a photographer (in addition to other things), and for many years, he would enter his photographs into various contests. Then one year, he was asked to judge a contest.  In that position, he was able to see what the judges were looking for, so when he went back out to take his own photos, he had some tips to keep in mind on how to improve them.  I know, I know, it sounds like cheating, but how is this any worse than taking a class or meeting with someone for tutoring or coaching or reading articles online?  This gave him first-hand experience and first-hand insight on how to take a good photograph.

Sitting on the other side of the table last night gave me another opportunity to get first-hand insight into what makes a good audition. And I had a bit of an epiphany.

Auditions are mini-performances for which we have yet to receive direction.

There are three basic types of auditions that I have encountered thus far, and I would like to think that this theory holds true in all three types.

• First, there is the monologue audition - you prepare a piece beforehand, maybe work with a coach on it, maybe just walk down the street saying it over and over again until it feels natural to you, and then you pull that puppy out whenever an audition asks you to have a prepared piece 1-2 minutes in length.  You probably have an assortment of monologues in your back pocket, so to speak, to fit various occasions - classical vs. contemporary, dramatic vs. comedic, etc. Personally, this is my least favorite type of audition.
• Second, there is the "cold read."  I'm not quite sure why auditors like this one (other than it gives them the maximum amount of time to determine what they would like to see). You show up to the theater at your given time, they give you 1-7 pages of script, tell you which part to read, and a few minutes later, you go in and read that part either with someone sitting behind the table or some other random actor scheduled in the same audition time slot as you.  This does have the advantage of having actors read something from the script, so directors can see if the actor is even remotely appropriate for one of the characters, but it allows the actor very little preparation time and the random pairings can prove challenging to sit through.
• Third, there are those lovely, lovely auditions where they send you "sides" beforehand.  Usually, you know what play you are auditioning for, so you can read the script, study the sides, and go in to show that you are the best person in the world (or this city) for this part.  I love when these auditions happen.  I'm not saying I'm an expert at them (I'm not an expert at auditioning by any stretch of the imagination), but it seems to me that these are the most useful for everyone involved.  The director gets to see your take on the character and you can show them what you've got.

Last night consisted of the third type of audition, and it was my job to be the person reading the other half of the sides that the auditioners were given.  While watching them, I came to the realization that I have been looking at auditions all wrong for the past...how many years have I been an actor?  Auditioning is not a completely different beast.  It is the same thing we do in performance with slightly different parameters.

Auditions are mini-performances for which we have yet to receive direction.

We've all done scenes in classes that were basically self-directed. The teacher assigns you a partner and assigns you a scene and you go work with your partner on that scene and come back and show it to the class and the teacher makes some comments on it, yes?  This is how we should be looking at auditions.  Everything that you would put into any other performance, you should put into your audition piece.  And I think this works for all three types of auditions, too.

• With a monologue audition, you pick your piece, you do your homework, you make your choices, you know your intentions. Yes, it is a little weird to have to deliver the monologue to some random spot on the back wall above the auditor's head, but that happens in performance, too.  Hamlet has a whole boatload of soliloquies that he has to deliver while on stage alone.  Who is he talking to?  What is he trying to accomplish? How do the words and intentions make him move while he is speaking?  Monolgues to nobody in particular happen on stage all of the time.  Monologues to someone are even better, and if you choose to do one of those in an audition, you just have to pretend there is someone else there.  But basically, doing a monologue for an audition is a mini-performance and should be prepared thusly.
• With a "cold reading," you are given a piece and a scene partner (sometimes) and a few minutes to look over the script. USE THAT TIME TO DO YOUR HOMEWORK.  True, you've probably not had a chance to read the whole play, but the bit they've given you is usually enough that you can make some choices about who this person is and what they want in the scene.  If nothing else, use that time to determine what your character wants in the scene.  It's a compressed preparation time, but trust me, if you go in and put on a performance with choices and intentions and wants (as opposed to just reading lines off of a piece of paper), you'll blow the competition away.
• When you have "sides," you can do all of your homework just like you would if you were performing the play it it's entirety. Read the play.  Look up things or words that don't make sense to you.  Figure out what your character wants in the scene you'll be reading.  Make some choices.  Go in there with something.  SOMETHING.  Put on a performance that you treat with as much respect as a full length play.

In other words, it's all about doing your homework.  As an actor, do your homework before an audition and go in there and perform. That's what they want to see.

A lot of very talented actors came in to the auditions last night and I hate to say it, but it was obvious who had done their homework and who hadn't.  There were those who had intention and energy, and there were those who didn't realize that this next sentence starts a new thought.  There was one person who came in with a lot of intention and a lot of choices, some of which I would have considered inappropriate for the character, but he went with it and the director was intrigued by him.  They're not necessarily looking for people who could open the show tomorrow - why would you need a director then?  They're looking for people who are alive on stage.  People who make choices and take chances and do their homework.

I have taken classes focusing on auditions before.  I have worked with coaches to get my pieces just right.  I have read all kinds of things online about what to do and what not to do in an audition setting - walk in and make the space yours, don't turn your back to get into character, be yourself from the moment you walk in the door until the moment you leave, pick a piece that suits you, etc. etc. etc. And all of these things have treated auditions like they are some foreign concept that needs to be treated completely different than anything else you will do as a performer.  To an extent, I feel like that education has done me a disservice.  I think we should walk in there like we already have the part.  We should prepare like we already have the part.  Be it a monologue, a cold read, or prepared sides, we should walk in there as actors demonstrating the best of our craft, so we should prepare as if we already have the part.

I know, that sounds like a lot of work.  Theater is a lot of work, though, and as far as I am concerned, it is some of the best work one can get.  Why do we do this if we don't love it?  If we love it, don't we want to do more of it?  If we love it, why should we shy away from an opportunity to practice?  Because it will be disappointing if we're not cast?  Any day in which I get to participate in the theatrical process is a good day. And that means if I get to walk into a room full of strangers and perform for two minutes, I'm going to milk that two minutes for everything it's worth.

Auditions are mini-performances for which we have yet to receive direction.

Enjoy them!