Thursday, July 6, 2017

Be the Joe Maddon of Directors

After watching the Cubs for the last few season’s, particularly the 2016 Season where they became World Champions for the first time in over 100 years, I started to think what it was about this young team that made them so successful? The more I learned, I really began to admire Joe Maddon and his unique style of management. I wondered if there was something tangible to take away from that could translate to other areas of leadership, and I thought, what if you could aspire to be the Joe Maddon of directors? I wrote that down in the notes section of my Iphone, chewed on it a little bit, and I think there’s really something to that.

As always, I’ll preface my blog posts that these are thoughts that I aspire to, not that are personally tried and tested. I have directed before, I consider myself a director, but I don't have the opportunity yet to make this a consistent practice. These thoughts and curiosities come more out of how I would like to improve rather than what’s worked for me.

Along with Joe Maddon, I read the book “Leaders Eat Last” by Simon Sinek, and got into sort of a youtube wormhole of his talks, and again, extremely relevant, so I’ll be adding some of thoughts in here as well.

“Success is a team sport. Failure, we can do on our own, but success takes the help of others. (your team)…they are going to be the ones that brings your vision comes to life. If they feel taken care of, they will take care of you.” – Simon Sinek

What essentially is the bare bones job description of a director? One bullet would be

-Get a group of people who have possibly never met before and get them moving in the same direction

Another one

-Have group of people deliver your vision, which includes them being artistic and vulnerable

How do we do this? If we look at people like Joe Maddon who’ve been extremely successful at getting results in high pressure situations, it’s all about community, culture, and care.

When putting together your team, it’s important to remember the “why”.

The “what” is “We are putting on this artistic production for a paying audience for a production company”.

But why is everyone there? Why is important for you to direct this piece of work right now? Think about the “why” that has brought your team together, and don’t lose sight of that. Maybe even talk about it. Why do they love this show? Why are they an actor/choreographer/designer/stage manager in the first place? What are they getting out of it? It’s so important not to lose sight of all of those reasons, because they’re the emotional things that drive us.

Doing theatre can be lucrative (*chuckles), it can be a step to furthering your career, but we do it because we love it. It SHOULD be fun. It should be rewarding, it should create good memories. The work is important, the artistic integrity must absolutely be there, but behind the work is a love to be there, so it’s important as a leader not to forget that.

It’s something that you as a leader need to make known in the most stressful moments. If you can take a step back at the end of the third day of rehearsal and say “So, this is the third day of rehearsal. We’re gonna get there. We didn’t get everything done that we wanted to, but we worked so hard. We’ll pick it up tomorrow. Great job.” That goes so far for people leaving rehearsal knowing it’s ok, and they have a leader that believes in them and sees the big picture.

Circling back to Papa Smurf, Maddon is not laid back about winning. It’s something he thinks about all the time I’m sure. He’s very strategic and goes by statistics, but it’s High Stakes, Low Temperature. If you cast and hire people on your team that are all going in the same direction and are ready to work, the environment should never have to be a pressure cooker. In fact, you can create that environment even if you don’t get to choose your team. Being the leader and setting the example goes a long way.

“Don’t ever let the pressure exceed the pleasure.” -Joe Maddon

That quote goes back to the “why” we’re there. Even at the very top of his field, Maddon is concerned with the pleasure of the game. He stays loose and productive. He brings dogs and bear cubs into the clubhouse, he’s loose on dress code, you see them going to their next stop all wearing pajamas or crazy suits. It’s more than PR, it’s community building. You watch him switching up who plays what position, and it’s sort of like watching a little league game at times. You may not ever have the opportunity to do the same things he does, and maybe you don’t have a Michael Scott personality, but there are ways to show care with your team: have a cast get together before rehearsal starts, post comforting, funny, inspirational quotes in the lobby at auditions, ask people about how they’re doing, make sure you know the climate of the cast so you can address problems and not be in the dark. Trust in your team is something that builds and is earned. I truly believe you get the best results from people if they know they are safe and you have their back.

If you were to compare a director to a CEO, or even a President there are similarities in the skillset that is required. They absolutely have to have a strong vision of what they want and what will work. Our President ran on a vision. He got the buy in from his voters because he connected with them and spoke to them. The problem is, he has had so many communication related missteps that so many people he's working with don’t trust him, That’s toxic to success and forward movement. Again, dictators divide people, leaders bring them together. As long as everyone is divided, they can’t come together and start their own movement.

Great Leaders, CEO’s, and Directors do what I mentioned earlier: bring people together to move in the same direction. As the director, you have the vision that's driving the process. How far can that vision go if it’s not communicated effectively? How can you make that vision a reality? Where does the vision stop? Just with what’s onstage in front of the audience?, or is it the whole process? If the culture of care is there, it allows everyone to focus on doing the very best on their piece of the puzzle to create something you can all be proud of.

Something to be sensitive of: actors and artists in general are hard on themselves. It’s really vulnerable to perform, and it can be really scary if they are feeling self conscious, or that they don’t belong. If that happens, there is no way they can do their best work. A big part of preventing that issue is picking the right people that you want to work with, so you’re confident, even if things aren’t going well momentarily, they’re going to be able to deliver really good work, and you can be supportive through the struggles if there are any.

Another important thing is to be very clear on expectations. If you kind of in the back of your mind wanted everyone off book  the rehearsal after a scene is blocked, but didn’t say it out loud, you can’t get mad if that doesn’t happen.

There are ways to hold people accountable, get what you need from them, but also make them feel safe. Know that the courage to perform is not something that comes from within the performer naturally. It comes from someone telling them they believe in them and have their back. So even if consistent accolades is not your style, creating a community of safety and positive communication can go a long way. Things that you can do as a leader that cost nothing:
1. make people feel safe, valued and valuable
2. try to help them grow
3. be kind prepared, and organized
4. be respectful of their time
5. enjoy the process as much as you can.

Is there a particular experience where you saw this type of leadership really come to life?
















Wednesday, June 7, 2017

“I need an audition song!”

“I need an audition song!”

We’ve all had that thought come in our head, right? An audition comes up and our standard “go-to” songs aren’t going to work, or they’re asking for something specific that you just don’t have. Time to freak out and cancel your audition...just kidding.

 Hopefully this blog will help. As I’m thinking about auditioning for a few things and trying to figure out audition material, I thought I would jot down some of my thoughts.  These are things I’ve learned over the years through success and more importantly, failure in picking songs. Hope it helps!

A piece of general advice: make sure you’re prepared First step in that is to make sure you've practiced it with an accompanist/voice teacher etc. You need to know if it’s really difficult to play, if what you have in your mind as the intro actually matches what’s on the page, how to explain the tempo to the accompanist so you sound like you know what you’re talking about. If you don’t know, ask someone who accompanies auditions, and ask them if anything needs to be written on the page that would be helpful for a sight reader. Preparation is the key to doing well and not sweating the small details.

Show what you do
First and foremost, an audition is about showing who you are and what you do. Take some time to reflect on what you excel at as a performer. Find material that give you the opportunity to show off those attributes. Also, pick material that you can sing..
-in your sleep
-if you’re sick
-if you’re nervous
something that shows you at your best and what you can do without added anxiety.

 Let’s face it: you’re going to get thrown off in the moment, and you don’t need that extra stress of a high note that you don’t know if you have that day or not.

Again, do what you excel at. An audition song is great if it’s a reflection on who you are, especially if you’re being seen for the first time.

 Who are you? Not, who do you want your type to be, or who you think you sound like, or look like, or what parts you think you’d be good at, but who are YOU? Are you funny? Reserved? Out there? Sensitive? What can you do to have an opportunity to sing your truth? What is your “personal brand” as a performer? What are the strong attributes that you have that are in demand? (maybe more on this later)

What category would you classify the show?
A good place to start is looking at the show and what category it falls under. When was it written? Who wrote it? What’s their style of music? If you’re auditioning for Ragtime or Secret Garden, even though they were written in the 90’s, you’re going to need something on the more “legit” side of things. If you’re auditioning for something more pop/rock/folk etc, you may be asked to not even sing from a musical, so you will want to have some things from the radio that you can pull together or refine and have ready to go. Another tip would be have a popular song from each decade on hand, just in case that would be the thing to sing.

How does it feel?
Something I do is sing through some of the songs from the show for which I’m auditioning, and pay attention to how it feels to sing that song. How am I singing it? Where does it sit in my voice? What color would I name this song? Is more “talky”, or very legato? What’s the high/low note? How would I describe it stylistically? Then when I’ve thought of that, it’s time to reflect: what songs do I know that match these things? They could be from completely different genres, time periods, characters, but if they feel similar, it may be a good choice. If you can have the character their casting ringing in their ears when you are singing, all the better. If it’s not what they’re looking for, at least you’re confidently bringing to the table your stamp on how you could perform it.

Words, Words, Words
Think about the character(s) you’re auditioning for, and what they are going through. What other characters have had similar issues/problems/goals in life? This could also include listening to the words of a song, and if it’s completely a different character, even a different gender than who you’re going for, and the words fit, go ahead and use it. Also, make sure the song is active, and you’re trying to do something with your words. Something you can do is assign verbs to each phrase or verse. What are you trying to accomplish? (ex: Charm, intimidate, inspire, comfort etc) Focusing on those and the why these words need to be sung is another way to get yourself out of your head when the moment to sing comes.

One Last Time
A good way to get a gut reaction from yourself would be to ask “If today was my last day on Earth, and I had 1 more song to sing? What would it be?” It’s kind of a downer question, but if you have seen the movie “Walk the Line”, and that scene where Johnny Cash goes into sing for Sam Phillips, he asks him the same question…and it’s a valid one! What song is very important to you? Whatever it is, it warrants being heard. The people sitting behind the table deserve to hear YOU sing it. So, if you find yourself stuck, and don’t know how to best represent yourself, that song might be it.

I hope my ramblings are helpful. After reading some of these tips, were any of them things you haven’t thought of? What’s something that you do that has worked out well? Let me know!




Thursday, October 20, 2016

Be Humble, but let Mother F***ers know....

We artists are an insecure, bunch aren't we?

When you’re unsure of yourself, it can be tempting to try to get reassurance from your peers. Reassurance that comes from praise, nods of approval etc. But what if you don’t get that? Does that mean you’re not good at what you do? Absolutely not.

What you need to understand is that as artists, we are all doing something very vulnerable when we show our art, especially when you have an audience viewing the process of building the art (i.e. rehearsals), and then you have an audience viewing and “judging” the final product (i.e. the paying audience). Does what they think count? No.

Wait a minute, how could what they think not count? They are the ones “judging” your art! If someone makes a snarky comment about the 2 hours they spent watching your show, doesn’t that count for anything??? Nope. Because they weren’t a part of the process.

But what if they REALLY know what they’re talking about?? and I mean, like, they write REVIEWS on the shows they see. Still no.

Did they study the script with the rest of your cast and your artistic staff? 
Did they come up with the decisions that your team decided were best for your production?
Did they spend hours rehearsing, interpreting, learning, memorizing, fixing, tweaking, re-spacing, re-learning, agonizing over, pulling their hair problem solving? 

Nope. The answer to all of this is nope.

Not only does their opinion not matter, but it must in no way impact your performance. If they see you on opening night and give you their notes, and they think you should have played the part differently than you did, you have to be courageous and say “oh cool thanks”, even feel free to agree with them so they shut their opinionated mouth,  and tomorrow night, go back do what you rehearsed. If you don’t, you’re betraying everyone else that put in the hard work on your project. One person’s opinion doesn’t count no matter how much you think they know.

There’s a wonderful Teddy Roosevelt quote that I have framed and hung up at work…

“It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena…”

Brene Brown has a quote summarizing this, which I love so much, and it’s 

“If you aren’t in the arena also getting your ass kicked, I’m not interested in your feedback.”

Before I go on, I’ll admit, I have TOTALLY been the person picking apart performances and productions and have been critical. I’m not saying it’s not ok to do that. That’s part of learning: saying outloud what works and what doesn’t. Critical thinking and discussion is a part bettering yourself as an artist.

I guess what I’m saying is 1. there’s no reason to be mean about it. 2. If you’re on the other side of those kind of comments, remember, they don’t matter.

It’s important though, to know “they don’t matter” doesn’t mean “they don’t exist”.

Critics do exist, both in the official form of people are paid to critique work and write about it, and in the non-official form in people who come to see your work and have something to say. Invite them in, let your work be seen, but also know that what they have to say ultimately means nothing. If you’ve put in the work and did your best, that’s all you can do. If you put your heart, soul, sweat, and tears into it, your work is something worth seeing. 

People you don’t know are probably talking about it, and saying good things that you’ll never hear.  You know in your heart how you did, what you could do better next time, what you really nailed. Your director is the eyes in the audience you need to trust. Listen to them. You don’t need someone outside of your production or project’s opinion to know if your work has merit. It does.

There’s a quote I love, the title of this post, and it’s “be humble, but let m fer’s know.” I think the meaning behind this is do the work without talking about it. Be awesome, and let people see it without the commentary. It can be hard, especially when you’re first starting out, but once you’re established you can do it.

When are you “established?” Right away. You can do it no matter where you are in your career. 

We’ve all done it. We want to impress someone, so in the conversation, we drop anecdotes about our career so they know how big of a deal we are.  In some ways, this can be a part of networking/self promotion/being known. When that’s the case, go for it. Most of the time, there’s really no need. Show them how good you are not by talking about your resume or humblebragging about a callback you got. It’s so unnecessary. Also, it’s so obvious when you’re doing it.

You can still let the motherfu**ersknow. Here are some ways to let them know
1.       Be on time for rehearsal
2.       Be prepared, familiarize yourself before coming in, and be ready to work on what's on the schedule. Know what’s going on
3.       Memorize your stuff earlier than everyone else. Make it seem like it’s easy, and you didn’t really do much, but you really worked your butt off
4.       Have big strong choices to bring to the director
5.       Be awesome
6.       Be consistent
7.       Be someone your fellow actors can rely on and they feel safe in a scene with you knowing it’s not going to be a train wreck
8.       You know that thing that makes you awesome and different than everyone else? Bring that to the table, and give 100% whenever you can. Whatever 100% is that day. It varies day to day.
9.       Be really nice to everyone, be a team player, make them look good, be helpful and respectful to all the production staff, learn everyone’s name, ask about them and what's going on in their lives. Be personable.

Those are just a few examples of “Letting them know”

Finally, being humble doesn’t mean not recognizing what makes you awesome. That’s not it at all. Great reviews, callbacks, getting exciting work, and praise are all such good things, and are so important to internalize. 

I think there's a misconception in our society that we shouldn't boast, so we don't let the good stuff sink in. That's the wrong approach. Let it sink in, know the difference between confidence and cocky, but know all of the good traits you have as well as areas of opportunity. No one's perfect, but you need to be able to know what makes you special, and all you've accomplished.

 Let the good stuff build you up, write it down and read it when you’re not feeling good about your work, pick a really close friend to share the accomplishments with and celebrate with them, build your confidence with all that amazing stuff, so you don’t have to have everyone else tell you when you’re doing great, you’ll just know, 

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Collaboration with Artistic Staff



So I read an article on “Backstage” and it says “Singers: Stop Trying to Use your Diaphragm, it’s like telling an athlete to “start pumping your heart.” Reading this made me need to write something about how to talk about singing when working on a project. These are just my thoughts, and other people may have varying opinions, so take what I say with a grain of salt, but it might help.

I am happy to say the majority of the time I’ve spent in a vocal rehearsal has been wonderful. Either the person I’m working with is happy enough with what I’m doing and we’re making tweaks here and there, and we're able to communicate about what needs to happen in a respectful, collaborative way that is easy for me to understand, grasp, and deliver on.

*Before I go into it more, after reading what I wrote, I think it's very important I write something that's more important than anything else...Don't be a diva. Sometimes frustrations will come up when collaborating with someone, but you have to be a team player, you have keep your emotions and ego in check, and you have to come into any rehearsal situation with flexibility, respect, an eagerness to try, a willingness to compromise, or it's not going to work. You have to know how you are in rehearsals weighs heavier than how you are in performance for those you're working with. If you want to work with them again and have a good reputation, play nice in sandbox!*

There have been times I’ve been in singing groups or shows where the person who I’m working with is, or thinks they are a voice teacher, and they are going to “teach me how to sing.” I don't think that's the best approach for anyone, certainly not for me, as I already have a voice teacher. I know it’s not the last time I’m going to run into it, so here are some things you can do if you’re in a similar situation.

First off…if you can, or haven’t already, find a voice teacher or coach you trust very much that you can work with from show to show to show, that knows you, your voice, how to help and the two of you speak the same language. That’s huge. If you’re working on a project, you may be working with a music director for a few weeks and it’s over. They aren’t in charge of, responsible for, or should have a major impact on how you sing. Their job is to work with you to get you to have the work sound  the way the artistic staff envisions. If they cast you in a role, it should be pretty similar to how you actually sing, if it’s not, that’s an entirely different issue that you have NO control over. If what you bring to the table isn’t what they want, they should have cast someone else, and that’s not your fault. Don’t get down on yourself or go crazy trying to be something you’re not. 

Next, once you’re working with them, try to ask questions about what they are looking for, and pay attention to the words they use to describe the sound they are going for. Personally, a lot of times in musical theatre, the note I get is “it’s too big/dark” or “can you try it less legit.” I have a big voice, and I’m classically trained, so my voice tends to naturally sound big and on the operatic side. It doesn’t mean I can’t adjust that. However, I’m never going to sound like Justin Timberlake. If they want that, they can’t get it from me, because our voices are biologically very different.

 Luckily, in my case, if they want less, all it is taking away things. So in my mind, I might think “not so anchored, you don’t need to use all the resonance you have, just talk, sotto vocce, lighten it up.” Really easy fixes.

It’s harder when they are asking you to give something more that your voice can produce naturally. I’ve had that happen to. In one scenerio, they really wanted was an operatic baritone. I’m a tenor. I’m not going to be able to sing notes at the bottom of my range with a lot of quality. So telling me to “sing bigger” isn’t going to work because that’s not how my voice is built. You may have that too. They may want “a more legit sound”, and I’m sorry, but unless you’re trained like that, they aren’t going to get what they’re looking for. You can’t fake training or slap a band aid on lack of it…*cough* Russell Crowe in Les Mis.

Where I start to get frustrated, shut down, and want roll my eyes is when I go through a piece of music, and the person I’m working with says “ok. That was good. Do this for me (saying my lyrics in a nasal voice).” I get exactly what they’re trying to do. They are trying to "teach my to sing the way they want it to sound"

 What do you do in this situation? Ask them what they are looking for, and say “ok. I’ll think about that”, and work on it. Try to focus on the result the both of you are looking for in the performance. Show them that you can take direction and don’t need to be spoon fed.

It’s the equivalent of a director giving you line readings or telling you to “act more mad”. You’re smarter and more talented than that! In the same scenario, ask them what they want. If they say “I want you to be really mad,” then accept the fact that you are working with someone who wants a real performance out of you, but doesn’t know how to get it, and instead, translate that into something active. “act more mad” means “I’m not believing your intention in this scene. Whatever you’re doing is not reading to us. I interpret that your character is angrier than you are playing it right now, and that’s what I want to see.”

What can you do? Raise the stakes. Turn that direction into verbs that you can use to change the behavior of your scene partner. He/she wants mad? Try to REALLY INTIMIDATE the other character. Think SPECIFIC HEIGHTENED subtext about what that character did to you and WHY you’re angry, and pairing those 2 together will give the director what they want, and it’s done in a way that’s organic and not faking it.

The way they gave you the direction is not specific and it’s in a way that might make you think think faking it will be ok for them. Guess what? It’s not ok for the audience. They will see it. You’re in charge of all of your performances regardless of where you’re working or who you’re working with. 

Your reputation as a performer is your responsibility, so you need to do things that are right for you, while being easy to work with.


I went off into a bit of a tangent there, but what I’m trying to get at is you have to have your tools and technique in your toolbox for both singing and acting. Harness them, refine them, build on them. They’re yours. You need to be able to use them even when someone you’re working with doesn’t speak the same artistic language as you, and that could happen a lot. You could have people that try to give you line readings and micromanage, you could have people who are so hands off you feel lost You need to be able to deliver “the goods” no matter what the scenario. The best way to do that I think is asking questions about what they want, listen to the words they're using, give them options, clarify, try to translate what they want into a language you understand in your head and work on it that way. I hope this helps.

Monday, July 18, 2016

Let's Talk About "Act Singing" For A Second....

“What will this person bring us this night that I have not seen? Give me back a piece of my life is what they are asking for” –director Frank Corsaro

If you are a performer, know that whether they know it or not, this is what every audience member is thinking about you before they see your interpretation of your role. Answer this question in your performance honestly. As, I said in my previous blog, tell the truth. Show them what you have to offer in the role.

What do you have to say that no one else can say?



 Why was it so exciting to find out Meryl Streep would be playing the witch in "Into the Woods"? If you've seen the show before, even excellent interpretations, why would it be exciting to see her in the role? Because you know from past experiences, she will bring something to it that you haven't seen. She will give you a piece of your life back. If you tell the truth in your performance and show yourself in that role, you can do the same to an audience. Becoming good at telling the truth, or "living truthfully in imaginary circumstances" is what it takes to become a better actor.

A process exists beyond a vocal technique that must be incorporated, because in its own way, when the actor speaks fully, he is singing. When the singer is is allowed to express what it’s all about, she is speaking.

Take a song that you personally love very much for whatever reason. It can be any style or genre.  Answer the question “What is it about this particular song that I love?”

Then ask yourself, “What is the rock bottom reality about this music that I must understand before I can open my mouth and sing the first words of the song?” Write down your most heartfelt answer to that question…

Then write down the answer to this question ...“What do I know about that?” Yes. What do you personally know about that? By doing this you will come to a stronger understanding of a piece of music that means a lot to you. If you verbalize it or at least recognize your connection to it, that understanding comes out every time you sing it. 

It can be challenging blending acting and singing, making them work in tandem without working against each other. For example, there might be a time where I very much want to express dramatically what is happening in the song, but vocally, it's challenging. I feel I have to juggle both acting and singing, and I'm not giving either the full attention. I can't just speak the words, I have to also put a lot of concentration on what is happening technically in order for me to get the best of both worlds, and I thought of a trick that might help with this if other people are having this issue.

-Make the vocal technique a part of the communication process that is necessary for you to have your message delivered.

For example, if I were singing a phrase, and I know the arc of this particular phrase goes up into the top part of my voice, and the "singer part" of my brain tells me I need to do a specific series of "vocal technique" steps in order to get those notes to come out effortlessly, but having my brain completely disengage with my acting to achieve that can be counterintuitive, and can make me  go into "singer mode", and completely disengage with the words I'm saying. A way to combat this is to make the vocal technique that needs to be attended to a part of the acting...what needs to happen vocally is required to get your point across.

Use your need to be singing technically correct as a vehicle of communication. Figure out before you sing what you need to do vocally and dramatically in a song and work on blending them at the same time. If you are mindful of the importance of both, you can allow them to work together instead of against each other. Be deliberate in pairing intention with physiological awareness of your body and what it's doing when it's singing.

You must always sing with a "cool head and a hot heart". If you get hot headed in singing, it can come off as out of control, and frankly, amateur.  All the great emotional things you think you are doing won't read because there is a loss in the vocal quality. Even in speaking dialogue, screaming or being very emotional doesn't equal moving the audience.

 On the other hand, I think we've all watched singers when they have "checked out" a bit and are so focused on hitting that high note that consequently, we, the audience have sort of checked out too, because we are reminded of the work they are doing. It looks like work.

It takes a lot of hard work and planning for something to look effortless. I'm going to try to be mindful and make this a part of my process going forward. If you have any thoughts, or questions, let me know!

*More info on the acting exercise that inspired this can be found at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjMScN-sT_M

Monday, July 11, 2016

A conversation with Rupert



One of the highlights of my experiences in theatre will always be actually talking to Rupert Holmes, the writer of “The Mystery of Edwin Drood.” It’s a story I’ll always be able to tell, and here’s the long version…

The show, “Drood” is very unique and different in many ways. One way, is that it is a show within a show, so I was playing Clive Pagett, an actor playing the role of John Jasper.

 The way I was finding it different was how to build the character I was playing. I’m big on character development. It’s something I focus heavily on, because I notice when I do, I feel the most confident in myself and my performance. By finding out who your character is, what they want, and what they would do in any situation gives me a strong compass for my performance. . Normally, it’s pretty straight forward, because you’re playing a real person with real problems, but in this, I was having a harder time because I had to know who the actor was and how good he is at playing Jasper, and what to focus on... This is what I had come up with when I wrote to Rupert, and what I had asked…

What I'm trying to figure out right now is who this person (Clive) is, and how do I balance the "melodrama acting" with the moments when the audience should really be pulled into the story and forget I'm acting. What I've come up with so far is as Clive, I'm trying to impress the audience with how talented I am. I'm showing them how incredible I am onstage (because that's how I view myself, and nothing less than that). Every time I sing, I sing with my absolute best technique, I am as expressive and bold and everything that sort of goes along with that style of acting. Basically, a peacock strutting and showing his feathers. "You want to see acting? I'll show you acting!" When playing Jasper, I thought I'd figure out what he wants in each scene, and truly go for that, but with more gusto/less realism of modern day style.”

I was just looking for a jumping off point, and to get reassurance that I was at least on the right track..I wasn't expecting much from him; maybe a quick email in a few weeks...instead he, and he offered to call me right then…of course I took the call!

I was at work, and ran from my desk to the staff lounge with a pad of paper and pen, and took notes as fast as I could. Rupert was on a train, so had some time to talk. He said he was fascinated by the question, was happy to help, and really took an interest in our production. I was so inspired and impressed by how open and thoughtful he was about his explanation of his vision of a show he wrote 30 years ago. He made it very clear that these thoughts were just his thoughts, and if the director wanted to go a different direction, nothing was set in stone. 

He explained to me that Clive was the type of person that loves “Big acting”. He loves the pointless pauses. The type of actor that says the lines up, and out, because they know that those in the balcony were so lucky to hear them…

This description resonated with me in the first scene of the show. It had to be established in the first line, “Why there’s the lad now!” and when Edwin walked in and we started our conversation. I imagined we were in a huge theatre and I had to make every gesture, every word large and clear enough that those in the “cheap seats" could see what I was doing. In Clive's mind, bigger is better.

We also discussed some of Clive's offstage personality. I got from my observations at that point in rehearsal that he is a vain person, and wanted to talk about that, so it wasn’t something that was surface level.

My assumption was that he was someone who was always looking in the mirror, hated to be upstaged, maybe a diva, maybe overall difficult to work with.  When I asked about it, Rupert talked about a “Benevolent vanity. It’s not nastiness. Clive loves being an actor, women pay money to see him play these haunted, troubled, brooding men that MUST have a good heart underneath it all. He loves the drama of these characters. He loves being the star. He has a swagger of knowing the audience came to see him. That is a completely different way of looking at it. I had a much easier time humanizing a person that is like-able, nice to most people, just knows how well liked he is and enjoys that.  


That assumption of love, acceptance and adoration from everyone whether it's true or not was a challenge for me. It's not at all how my mind works, so I remember having to kind of trick my brain to think like that. I remember rehearsing the song “A Man Could Go Quite Mad”, and imagining each seat filled with an audience member who just loves me and loves what I do. When it came to performances, and the audience actually being there, that way of thinking had to be there in order for me, a kind of shy person to “turn it on” and be able to walk into the audience with that gusto, let alone be able to talk and flirt with them before the show started.

We also talked about the “over the top” acting. I knew the style of the time was melodrama, but my question was, even if Clive isn't a great actor, do I just play Jasper over the top the whole time? That didn't feel right,as I'm playing Jasper for most of the performance. His way of explaining how to do that is for it not to be “bad acting” because you can’t do that for 2 hours and have it still be entertaining. I was relieved to hear that. He talked about it still being “real”, but with more gusto, so I sort of gave myself permission to still go figure out what “John Jasper” wants, and go after those objectives in a more heightened way. The way I made sense of this while performing was making sure I had subtext the whole show (the character’s inner thoughts), except they were screaming most of the time, and much more urgent. So the audience could see the wheels turning in my head, but bigger. #LouderFasterFunnier.

This conversation did so much for my confidence, and I had much of a better idea in what I was doing now that I had the information from the source. He was so kind and gracious giving me the time out of his day to talk to me. He even responded back several times when I updated him during the run. I’ve heard from others he’s very accessible. I’m so glad I took the chance to reach out, knowing I might not get a response. It will always make for a great story. 

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

An Artist's Job Is to Tell the Truth

The point of seeing theatre or a movie is to feel things. That's the most basic way to explain why we go see something....to feel things. So feel them.  Our society tends to shy away from expressing emotions outwardly, but participating in theatre, whether it's as a performer or as an audience member takes a certain level of vulnerability that is crucial to the experience.

I find the magic of art is to be moved in a way that you aren't ready for.  I'm someone who isn't made of stone, so yeah, if I'm watching Toy Story 3 I'll get a little weepy, but always feel the need to hide it, or force myself to keep the emotions inside...but isn't feeling things the point of art? So I've come up with challenge for myself and you, the reader when you participate in an artistic experience...don't censor. Whether you are a performer or audience member, just be real. Tell the truth.

 I recently performed "The Mystery Edwin Drood". Our first performance was  for an audience mostly filled with senior citizens, and my instinct at that performance was "censor a little bit." Don't be SO creepy. Don't be SO sexually infatuated with Rosa. Basically, don't push it so far.  It will make this audience uncomfortable. You will be giving them something they weren't ready for, and maybe can't handle." I'm lucky my other actor on my shoulder said "Tell the truth. They've lived a lot of life. They can handle it. Whether they know it or not, feeling uncomfortable is part of the experience, and it's what they are here for"

 They can handle it. An interesting concept. As an actor, it's not your job to read the audience, their reactions and base your performance on what you think they will appreciate/understand/enjoy/be able to handle. Your job is to tell the truth. If they can't handle it, that's their problem. When you are truly moved as an audience member, it's because those in the production...the actor, directors, designers etc. are telling the truth.. Maybe in a way it hasn't been told before.

Telling the truth as an actor can mean being truthful to the character even when it's ugly. I remember this in "Parade", when I had to play someone with very different ideals than my own, living in a reality where racism, whether it's hate filled or just a part of your belief system was just a part of your reality. Sometimes going that far into playing a character you know is wrong, can require almost creating an imaginary universe for yourself onstage where whatever they are saying is the truth...to them it is. It is their viewpoint, and that's what you're representing.

I found in "Drood", it was hard to "really go there" in certain moments when I knew certain people were in the audience. It's something that is so hard to combat, even when you want to be able to say "I'm fully in character. I'm not thinking about the audience." We all know that's pretty impossible. Especially when the show has audience interaction.

I discovered in this process what that sense of discomfort really is...it's a fear of vulnerability. Censoring the performance, even just a little bit is a way to put your wall up. It's almost like a fight or flight response. If I censor and don't tell the whole truth, they won't see ME. After all, you can't borrow someone else's emotions when you act. You are either telling the truth, or you are indicating the truth. You're either making angry faces and saying your lines loud, or you're having real thoughts and motivations and tactics going on in your head, and your true emotions are flying out of you in a way that only you can do. That requires letting the audience see YOU. Not the way Will Chase, Howard McGillan, or some other actor on youtube said these lines or sang these phrases. It's letting YOUR emotion, how YOU react to things be the guide, even if it's decisions you wouldn't make, or disagree with. The only way to tell the truth is to let your emotions be the guide. What would YOU do in this imaginary circumstance? the imaginary circumstance is not just this moment, but the entire life you've been given? In case of Drood, I had to put myself in the shoes of Jasper, and say "If I were making these decisions, what life experiences would drive me to get to this point? and why do I need to say these words, do these actions NOW?

Talking about the fear of vulnerability again, it is a scary vulnerable thing to have to play out actions that are "rapey" and "creepy" when your parents are in the audience. However, I have found, and now will use as my guide in the arts, that unless you feel kind of naked onstage, kind of uncomfortable, exposed, without any shields, shells, or walls to protect you, you aren't telling the truth. On the contrary, if you feel that discomfort no matter how big it is and just go with it, challenge yourself, lean into it, you are probably doing work that is worth watching...worth reading if you're a writer, worth looking at if you're an artist, worth hearing if you are a musician. If you tell the truth in an email and you have a hesitancy to press "send", what you said probably needs to be heard, even if the aftermath is going to be something to deal with. Tell the truth.

An examploe for me of having the truth told to me in art was seeing Carousel recently. Now, I've seen Carousel many times... I've been in it, I've seen the movie,  I know it by heart, nothing about it surprises me. However, seeing it at Lyric Opera with a fresh set of eyes touched me in a way like I've never experienced. I caught myself while watching Soliloquy near the end of the first act, feeling things I've never felt. Maybe it was because I was viewing it for the first time in the age group where I might be having the same thoughts as Billy, and my instinctual thought was "don't cry. keep it together."



During intermission, I actually had the thought,"You are here to feel things. You paid money to feel things. If it happens, let it happen, encourage it, lean into it. Let yourself be swept away...The second act started, and I let it happen.



During "You'll Never Walk Alone", I sobbed. Seeing Julie so alone, having Carrie say basically that it's better for him that he died, and hearing Julie hear that, Partly, because hearing it sung by Denyce Graves was almost too much to handle. The richness, warmth of her voice was like hearing these beautiful words from the voice of an angel.


 The lyrics also hit me in a way they hadn't before. "Don't be afraid of the dark"...something you tell little kids in the literal sense, but adults need to hear sometimes as well in the figurative. What a beautiful way to support someone.... "You'll never walk alone"...You're never alone...ever. That sentiment, the same as "No one Is Alone" is so important for anyone to hear, and reminds you how lucky you are to be on the planet with the people you're with. When you lose someone, it's important to remember they are still with you, and you don't have to go through this alone.

 Normally, in the ballet, you see Louise dancing, and kind of imagine Billy watching from Heaven. tin this production, they had him watching it, so you could see his reactions. There was a bit of choreography where his daughter, Louise was possibly balancing on some rocks or a ledge, and it looked almost like a toddler taking her first steps. There are so many minor details that can be added in a production that can pull on your heartstrings...a bit of passion or warmth, or empathy in a moment where it normally lacks can make so much of a difference in the emotional impact it can have on an audience. My favorite thing is to see that; even if it's in a play that's hundreds of years old...when an actor, a director or both find something there that wasn't there before.




The final scene is always moving, but to replace the normal stage picture of Billy kneeling next to Julie, saying "I loved you Julie. Know that I loved you.", and instead actually have her touch her...HUG her, and her FEEL it....and THEN if it wasn't bad enough flower pedals that were featured at the end of the bench scene come flowing down as a sign to her....that's when a little weepy turns into UGLY CRYING. Ugly crying at the theatre is ok. It's a safe place to feel things that remind you of why life is beautiful, or sad, or unfair, or hilarious, or amazing, or whatever it it is that day. But above all, as an audience member or someone in charge of what's happening on stage, tell the truth.  That's art. Everything else is boring generalities. Make art move that people and let yourself be moved.