This first tidbit has nothing to do with anything, but I was tempted to use the British spelling "theatre" in the title of this post instead of the American "theater." Somehow, the American spelling looks vulgar to me today, though the British still looks a little silly. Anyway. I digress.
There have been numerous studies done that illustrate the actual physical and psychological benefits of participating in artistic endeavors, be it music therapy or art therapy or just the general sense of well-being and calm or heightened creativity one experiences after watching a play. I think most of us know by now that art is good for you. "Earth without art is just eh," as the saying goes.
The thing is, it never ceases to amaze me what happens to me physically when I get on stage. Be it a performance or a rehearsal, the physiological transformation stuns me every time.
I bring this up because it is that time of year when my sinuses need to remind me that they are the ones wearing the pants in our relationship. And by "pants," I mean "slimy mucous balls of goo." I don't have a very large nose to begin with, so it doesn't take much to fill it up and make it difficult to breathe, so it is entirely possible my issues with my sinuses are not nearly as bad as the issues other people have with theirs. But I will tell you that I woke up this morning, completely plugged up, with that tingly feeling in the roof of my mouth and my teeth that you get right before you sneeze, but it lasted for probably fifteen to twenty seconds. Before you poo-poo that feeling, pull out a stopwatch and time out twenty seconds. Then imagine being literally (pronounced the way Rob Lowe says it on Parks and Recreation) on the brink of a sneeze for twenty seconds. My teeth actually hurt by the time I finally sneezed. And the sneeze didn't feel nearly as cathartic as it should have for all of that build up.
In short, my head feels like ass.
In rehearsal last night, though, I felt perfectly fine. The little twinge in my knee didn't bother me. I barely had to sniffle. I only sneezed after coming off stage. So what is is about the theater, about being on stage, that cures whatever ails me?
I would like to think it is part of the transformation into another character. I would like to think that I am living so honestly inside someone else's life that she doesn't take on my sniffles, aches, creaks and pains. I would like to think it is an indication that I am doing something right when I'm up there.
Though it does also make me wonder if my ailments are partially psychosomatic and when I get on stage where I have other things to think about, they go away.
In any case, theater is good for me. Theater heals me. And I can't wait to get back on stage.
11 October 2012
30 July 2012
Flexibility
I got sort of an odd, over-the-shoulder comment from one of my fellow actors this weekend, and decided I wanted to talk about that for a bit. Let me give you a little context first.
I'm in a show that opens this week. For those of you not familiar with theater, this means this week is tech week - the majority of our time in rehearsal will be dedicated to making sure light cues happen at the right time and sound cues aren't too loud and that when the lights come up, the actors are actually standing where the light is shining. That kind of thing. Tech week isn't really the time to work on "acting" stuff. Which means a lot of actors try to cram in those last "acting" questions into the few rehearsals leading up to tech. This makes perfect sense - the more the actors are comfortable with what they're doing, the less the director has to worry about them during tech.
This past weekend, one of my fellow actors got a note on a line that he wanted some clarification on, largely because this same line had been commented on in the past. He and the director chatted for a moment, and then, since the line is directed at me, asked me if I had a preference regarding which way the line should be delivered. I replied with something like, "That's not really my call. However he delivers it, I will respond appropriately." At which point, another actor in the cast turned to me and said, "You're so flexible." I think this remark was made because I have been asked similar questions before and responded in a similar fashion. The way he said it, though, almost sounded like an insult.
Here's my theory on acting, based on the training I have received. I can really only prepare for the opening moment of a scene. My character doesn't know how the scene is going to end or what is going to happen in the middle, so I, as an actor, can't really prepare for that - I can't go in as a character who knows what is going to happen five minutes from now. I can get to know my character so well that whatever life throws at her, I am ready to respond appropriately. But I can't map out the emotional path of my character in such a way that I know I will be this angry on this line every night. It is up to my scene partner to affect me in such a way that I get that angry, and it is up to me to allow my character to get that angry. But if my scene partner suddenly decides to turn a situation into a joke rather than a confrontation, it would no longer make sense for me to respond to him with the fury of a thousand scorned women, you know? I have to be prepared for him to give me something new every night and the best I can do is keep up and respond truthfully in the moment. If he makes a joke that catches my character by surprise, I have to be ready to laugh, or be insulted, or joke back, depending on who my character is. I have to be flexible. For me, acting is about affecting my scene partner and letting him (or her) affect me. How this happens every night may change, and I just have to roll with it.
Side note: This is not to say that there aren't moments when I know as an actor that I will have to hit a certain emotional level by a certain place in the script. Usually, for me, that means going back to my preparation for the start of the scene and raising the stakes to the point where what happens in the scene leading up to my emotional catharsis affects me in such a way that I can hit that point. It isn't so much about, "I need to be angry by this line;" it is more about, "I'm in such a state now that if someone says the wrong thing to me (which happens to be my scene partner's line), I'm gonna lose it." Does that make sense?
This goes back to the old adage of the squeaky door, too. Let's say you have Actor A on stage, reading a book. Actor B is supposed to open the door quietly and sneak across the back of the stage without Actor A noticing her. One night, half-way through the run, as Actor B opens the door, it squeaks. Very loudly. Everyone in the audience hears the door squeak and gasps because they know Actor B was trying to be quiet and failed. If Actor B then proceeds to sneak across the stage as she had in every previous performance, the audience is going to leave the theater saying, "But there's no way Actor A didn't notice that. Did you hear the door?" and the disbelief is no longer suspended. Instead, both Actor A and Actor B need to acknowledge the very loud door in their own ways. Perhaps Actor B ducks quickly so as not to be seen. Perhaps Actor A looks around, doesn't see the ducking Actor B, and goes back to his book. Then Actor B can reassess Actor A's position and sneak across the stage as she has done in every previous performance with the audience still believing she was appropriately sneaky.
The point being, you never know what is going to happen in a live performance, so you have to be able to adapt if something doesn't go as planned. I think this goes for line deliveries, too.
I'm realizing, though, the more people I work with, that not everyone feels this way or works this way. Sometimes, I even feel like I am of the minority opinion here. There are many actors that prefer to have the entire scene mapped out in their heads before they hit the stage. I think that there is some merit to that, too. Everyone has their own thing that they need to feel comfortable on stage. I need to know my character and what her relationships are to everyone else on stage with her (or mentioned, but never seen on stage). Other people need to know the complete emotional journey and exact blocking. I guess my way would look flexible, then, which might irritate some scene partners who prefer something more concrete. I'd like to think I'm not so erratic that I throw other people off, and if I'm given the same line deliveries every night, my performance will then be the same (or similar) every night. Unless I start feeling squirrely or find a new connection in the script.
If you're in the theater, which way do you prefer? Or do you have your own way of doing things? Do you find it irritating to work with someone flexible, or do you find it exciting? I'm honestly acting because I honestly don't know. All I know how to do at this point is prepare my character, prepare my opening moment, and go with whatever the show throws at me. Is that wrong?
I'm in a show that opens this week. For those of you not familiar with theater, this means this week is tech week - the majority of our time in rehearsal will be dedicated to making sure light cues happen at the right time and sound cues aren't too loud and that when the lights come up, the actors are actually standing where the light is shining. That kind of thing. Tech week isn't really the time to work on "acting" stuff. Which means a lot of actors try to cram in those last "acting" questions into the few rehearsals leading up to tech. This makes perfect sense - the more the actors are comfortable with what they're doing, the less the director has to worry about them during tech.
This past weekend, one of my fellow actors got a note on a line that he wanted some clarification on, largely because this same line had been commented on in the past. He and the director chatted for a moment, and then, since the line is directed at me, asked me if I had a preference regarding which way the line should be delivered. I replied with something like, "That's not really my call. However he delivers it, I will respond appropriately." At which point, another actor in the cast turned to me and said, "You're so flexible." I think this remark was made because I have been asked similar questions before and responded in a similar fashion. The way he said it, though, almost sounded like an insult.
Here's my theory on acting, based on the training I have received. I can really only prepare for the opening moment of a scene. My character doesn't know how the scene is going to end or what is going to happen in the middle, so I, as an actor, can't really prepare for that - I can't go in as a character who knows what is going to happen five minutes from now. I can get to know my character so well that whatever life throws at her, I am ready to respond appropriately. But I can't map out the emotional path of my character in such a way that I know I will be this angry on this line every night. It is up to my scene partner to affect me in such a way that I get that angry, and it is up to me to allow my character to get that angry. But if my scene partner suddenly decides to turn a situation into a joke rather than a confrontation, it would no longer make sense for me to respond to him with the fury of a thousand scorned women, you know? I have to be prepared for him to give me something new every night and the best I can do is keep up and respond truthfully in the moment. If he makes a joke that catches my character by surprise, I have to be ready to laugh, or be insulted, or joke back, depending on who my character is. I have to be flexible. For me, acting is about affecting my scene partner and letting him (or her) affect me. How this happens every night may change, and I just have to roll with it.
Side note: This is not to say that there aren't moments when I know as an actor that I will have to hit a certain emotional level by a certain place in the script. Usually, for me, that means going back to my preparation for the start of the scene and raising the stakes to the point where what happens in the scene leading up to my emotional catharsis affects me in such a way that I can hit that point. It isn't so much about, "I need to be angry by this line;" it is more about, "I'm in such a state now that if someone says the wrong thing to me (which happens to be my scene partner's line), I'm gonna lose it." Does that make sense?
This goes back to the old adage of the squeaky door, too. Let's say you have Actor A on stage, reading a book. Actor B is supposed to open the door quietly and sneak across the back of the stage without Actor A noticing her. One night, half-way through the run, as Actor B opens the door, it squeaks. Very loudly. Everyone in the audience hears the door squeak and gasps because they know Actor B was trying to be quiet and failed. If Actor B then proceeds to sneak across the stage as she had in every previous performance, the audience is going to leave the theater saying, "But there's no way Actor A didn't notice that. Did you hear the door?" and the disbelief is no longer suspended. Instead, both Actor A and Actor B need to acknowledge the very loud door in their own ways. Perhaps Actor B ducks quickly so as not to be seen. Perhaps Actor A looks around, doesn't see the ducking Actor B, and goes back to his book. Then Actor B can reassess Actor A's position and sneak across the stage as she has done in every previous performance with the audience still believing she was appropriately sneaky.
The point being, you never know what is going to happen in a live performance, so you have to be able to adapt if something doesn't go as planned. I think this goes for line deliveries, too.
I'm realizing, though, the more people I work with, that not everyone feels this way or works this way. Sometimes, I even feel like I am of the minority opinion here. There are many actors that prefer to have the entire scene mapped out in their heads before they hit the stage. I think that there is some merit to that, too. Everyone has their own thing that they need to feel comfortable on stage. I need to know my character and what her relationships are to everyone else on stage with her (or mentioned, but never seen on stage). Other people need to know the complete emotional journey and exact blocking. I guess my way would look flexible, then, which might irritate some scene partners who prefer something more concrete. I'd like to think I'm not so erratic that I throw other people off, and if I'm given the same line deliveries every night, my performance will then be the same (or similar) every night. Unless I start feeling squirrely or find a new connection in the script.
If you're in the theater, which way do you prefer? Or do you have your own way of doing things? Do you find it irritating to work with someone flexible, or do you find it exciting? I'm honestly acting because I honestly don't know. All I know how to do at this point is prepare my character, prepare my opening moment, and go with whatever the show throws at me. Is that wrong?
27 April 2012
Packing Up and Moving On
Last night was our last rehearsal in our rehearsal space. The next time we all meet as a cast, it will be in the actual theater where the performances will take place.
It's funny - I remember the first time I was in a play that had to rehearse somewhere other than the actual performance space. I was all kinds of annoyed at how inconvenient that was and worried that things would feel different once we got into the theater and irritated that we had to re-block things once we got in there. Since then, I've learned that doing storefront theater in Chicago, being able to rehearse in your performance space is more of a luxury than the norm, and really, you just have to deal with it. That's how the performance spaces keep shows going year-round, and how they are able to pay their rent. When one show closes, the next one moves in and opens. And this happens quickly because you rehearse elsewhere.
There are all kinds of things that can be done in a rehearsal space to try to make it as close to the performance space as possible, but it's never going to be the same as the actual performance space. You can put tape on the floor to denote the stage or stairs or other various levels. You can bring in rehearsal furniture and rehearsal costumes and rehearsal props so you're almost there. As an actor, these things are important because you start to kind of get the feel of things and you develop a sense of comfort and familiarity with the rehearsal space that allows you to grow and play and explore the script.
Last night was our last rehearsal in our rehearsal space. I did not expect it to be such a sad parting.
Yes, we are tired of having a wall in the middle of our "stage." Yes, we are tired of using the behemoth of a table instead of what our actual table will be. Yes, we would like to see what things look like when we have actual levels and when the stage entrance doorway is there. But I've grown to love that space. To love our taped-down stage markings. To enjoy taking that side-step to avoid slamming into the wall. In creating a comfortable space that allows us to play and grow and explore, we created a home. Last night, we had to say goodbye to that. We pulled up the tape from the floor, pushed the table and chairs back to their pre-rehearsal living spaces, and packed up our props to move to the performance space for tech on Sunday. I didn't think it was going to make me so sad, but walking down the hallway, leaving that building for the last time in our rehearsal process made me sad. I've had a great time there.
That's not to say there isn't a lot of fun still to be had. The show opens next weekend, so we still have a week of tech and a full performance run to get through. This project is not over by a long shot. We're just moving to the next phase of it. It's exciting and I can't wait to have an audience see it in all of it's glory. I just want to say a quick thank you and goodbye to the space that has been our home for the past five weeks. Thank you for helping us make this production amazing!
It's funny - I remember the first time I was in a play that had to rehearse somewhere other than the actual performance space. I was all kinds of annoyed at how inconvenient that was and worried that things would feel different once we got into the theater and irritated that we had to re-block things once we got in there. Since then, I've learned that doing storefront theater in Chicago, being able to rehearse in your performance space is more of a luxury than the norm, and really, you just have to deal with it. That's how the performance spaces keep shows going year-round, and how they are able to pay their rent. When one show closes, the next one moves in and opens. And this happens quickly because you rehearse elsewhere.
There are all kinds of things that can be done in a rehearsal space to try to make it as close to the performance space as possible, but it's never going to be the same as the actual performance space. You can put tape on the floor to denote the stage or stairs or other various levels. You can bring in rehearsal furniture and rehearsal costumes and rehearsal props so you're almost there. As an actor, these things are important because you start to kind of get the feel of things and you develop a sense of comfort and familiarity with the rehearsal space that allows you to grow and play and explore the script.
Last night was our last rehearsal in our rehearsal space. I did not expect it to be such a sad parting.
Yes, we are tired of having a wall in the middle of our "stage." Yes, we are tired of using the behemoth of a table instead of what our actual table will be. Yes, we would like to see what things look like when we have actual levels and when the stage entrance doorway is there. But I've grown to love that space. To love our taped-down stage markings. To enjoy taking that side-step to avoid slamming into the wall. In creating a comfortable space that allows us to play and grow and explore, we created a home. Last night, we had to say goodbye to that. We pulled up the tape from the floor, pushed the table and chairs back to their pre-rehearsal living spaces, and packed up our props to move to the performance space for tech on Sunday. I didn't think it was going to make me so sad, but walking down the hallway, leaving that building for the last time in our rehearsal process made me sad. I've had a great time there.
That's not to say there isn't a lot of fun still to be had. The show opens next weekend, so we still have a week of tech and a full performance run to get through. This project is not over by a long shot. We're just moving to the next phase of it. It's exciting and I can't wait to have an audience see it in all of it's glory. I just want to say a quick thank you and goodbye to the space that has been our home for the past five weeks. Thank you for helping us make this production amazing!
02 April 2012
I've Got an Idea
I've been trying to go see more live theater. I'm an actor, I know lots of actors, so I should go see more live theater than I do, right? Try to stay current with what various companies and performers are doing so I'm more a part of the scene than a random, casual participant, right? It makes sense to me, anyway.
What I'm learning from seeing more live theater, though, is that I have very interesting or odd thoughts about the shows afterward. Things that your average viewer might not notice, and I don't know if that is because I'm going in to it with a different perspective (having done theater since I was four years old) or because I'm just plain odd, but it gave me an idea.
Please note: there is nothing about this idea that precludes my dream of being a full-time actor. This is an idea for a backup plan.
I would like to create a job for myself, and I would call it a freelance artistic consultant (or something to that effect). I would like to be the sort of person that theater companies call in at some point in the rehearsal process (when or how often is up to them) to watch the show and ask questions about it in the hopes of making the performance better.
Now, I know most theater companies have an artistic director, and I want to make it clear that I do not intend to step on anyone's toes. I also know that a lot of theaters invite critics or adjudicating boards to come see their productions for feedback, reviews, and in the hopes that it will inspire others to come see the show. That's not what I would do. I would hope to position myself within the theater community as an ally, another set of eyes to have on a show. I wouldn't be there to tear anyone down or destroy careers with a bad review. I would be the one to say, "That character's arc is unclear to me," or "I love the feel of the space, but that light is blinding everyone in section 12." That kind of thing. I would like to be just another set of eyes on a production - an outside, unaffiliated set of eyes - who might notice things that had otherwise been missed - and I would present my opinions very much in the form of, "I noticed this and you are welcome to take that if you want and run with it or tell me to go piss up a tree." My intention would always be to help.
I realize that a lot of theater types can get sensitive about this kind of thing, and can be sensitive about taking the opinion of a stranger into account when it comes to the creation of their art. But I know when I wrote and directed my own musical, it was helpful to have an outside set of eyes on things to let me know if the points I was trying to make were coming across clearly or not. I also know from writing and directing my own musical that after a while, you know the script so well as the director that if your actors are mumbling through certain parts or getting so quiet they can barely be heard, you start to fill in those blanks because you know what is supposed to be there so you might miss something seemingly minor. And wouldn't it be nice if someone said, "Great show, but I couldn't understand a word of what Character Z was saying in scene 6," before the show opened so that when the critics and adjudicating board members show up for opening night, they don't have to notice such things and can instead focus on how brilliant you all are?
I honestly don't know if this is the kind of service anyone would be interested in, what with egos and time considerations and the pressure of having an outsider view a non-finished performance. But I think if I could present myself as non-threatening, friendly, and genuinely wanting to help, I could be a great asset to the the theatrical community. I've been at script readings (early drafts of plays) and been able to provide valuable feedback to the playwrights, so I think my input could be useful in some instances. And since I'm an outsider, there would be no harm in telling me to buzz off because my ideas don't fit with the theme of the play. That's a perfectly acceptable response.
But I think I could be useful in this capacity. We all want to make great theater. I'd like to help out with that if I can.
To all of my theatrically inclined friends, if there was such a service available to you, would you want to take advantage of it, or do you think I'm off my rocker?
What I'm learning from seeing more live theater, though, is that I have very interesting or odd thoughts about the shows afterward. Things that your average viewer might not notice, and I don't know if that is because I'm going in to it with a different perspective (having done theater since I was four years old) or because I'm just plain odd, but it gave me an idea.
Please note: there is nothing about this idea that precludes my dream of being a full-time actor. This is an idea for a backup plan.
I would like to create a job for myself, and I would call it a freelance artistic consultant (or something to that effect). I would like to be the sort of person that theater companies call in at some point in the rehearsal process (when or how often is up to them) to watch the show and ask questions about it in the hopes of making the performance better.
Now, I know most theater companies have an artistic director, and I want to make it clear that I do not intend to step on anyone's toes. I also know that a lot of theaters invite critics or adjudicating boards to come see their productions for feedback, reviews, and in the hopes that it will inspire others to come see the show. That's not what I would do. I would hope to position myself within the theater community as an ally, another set of eyes to have on a show. I wouldn't be there to tear anyone down or destroy careers with a bad review. I would be the one to say, "That character's arc is unclear to me," or "I love the feel of the space, but that light is blinding everyone in section 12." That kind of thing. I would like to be just another set of eyes on a production - an outside, unaffiliated set of eyes - who might notice things that had otherwise been missed - and I would present my opinions very much in the form of, "I noticed this and you are welcome to take that if you want and run with it or tell me to go piss up a tree." My intention would always be to help.
I realize that a lot of theater types can get sensitive about this kind of thing, and can be sensitive about taking the opinion of a stranger into account when it comes to the creation of their art. But I know when I wrote and directed my own musical, it was helpful to have an outside set of eyes on things to let me know if the points I was trying to make were coming across clearly or not. I also know from writing and directing my own musical that after a while, you know the script so well as the director that if your actors are mumbling through certain parts or getting so quiet they can barely be heard, you start to fill in those blanks because you know what is supposed to be there so you might miss something seemingly minor. And wouldn't it be nice if someone said, "Great show, but I couldn't understand a word of what Character Z was saying in scene 6," before the show opened so that when the critics and adjudicating board members show up for opening night, they don't have to notice such things and can instead focus on how brilliant you all are?
I honestly don't know if this is the kind of service anyone would be interested in, what with egos and time considerations and the pressure of having an outsider view a non-finished performance. But I think if I could present myself as non-threatening, friendly, and genuinely wanting to help, I could be a great asset to the the theatrical community. I've been at script readings (early drafts of plays) and been able to provide valuable feedback to the playwrights, so I think my input could be useful in some instances. And since I'm an outsider, there would be no harm in telling me to buzz off because my ideas don't fit with the theme of the play. That's a perfectly acceptable response.
But I think I could be useful in this capacity. We all want to make great theater. I'd like to help out with that if I can.
To all of my theatrically inclined friends, if there was such a service available to you, would you want to take advantage of it, or do you think I'm off my rocker?
30 March 2012
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.
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.
21 March 2012
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.
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.
06 March 2012
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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!
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