Perspective

Theater artists and moms of young children have something in common -- both groups tend to have lots of insecure members. Both have to be exquisitely sensitive to do their jobs well, and most have an intense drive to do not only their best, but to seek perfection. What this often translates to is a preoccupation with details; "little" things like individual performances or whether your kid reads at age 3 or 5 or 10.

There is a lot of ugliness inherent to our world, a great deal of which we have to block out of our minds and hearts (when we're not directly experiencing it, and sometimes even when we are) if we are to stay sane. I do think, though, that it's important to consider this ugliness when we get caught up in the stresses of living our normal lives. For example, I think it's dreadfully important to eat well -- in fact, many of today's problems stem from improper nutrition and ingestion of icky chemicals that upset our behaviour in hideous ways. However, I'm not going to stress over the occasional chicken nugget or cup of soda or bowl of mac n cheese. Seriously, as bad as these foods are, going without food is worse. Always.

When I write rather neurotically about this theater job or that one, and I complain somewhat bitterly about lack of time or skills or the importance of this thing or that one, it's important that you know that I do understand where these matters lie in the hierarchy of the world. I feel unbelievably fortunate and blessed to have these things to worry about. I don't think that we should not do these things because others, for whatever reason, are unable -- but I do think that we should recognize our blessings, and whenever possible, work towards a world in which everyone can worry about these non-life and spirit threatening issues.

Today, I am particularly struck by the sacrifices that our men and women in uniform make to protect us. Whatever your stand politically, and I am a strong advocate of peace whenever possible, these people face obstacles and situations that would kill most of us, spiritually, mentally and physically. From leaving small children and husbands and wives to be stationed in ravaged countries with little resources, to being left behind without support for months at a time, to fighting social, political and physical battles with few resources at their disposal, to never knowing what the next assignment will be, these people are brave and resilient. So, when you are doing something that you consider to be really important, take a moment and send a wave of energy and hope, or a small prayer, up for these men and women and all of the citizens of the countries in which they are stationed. Whatever their reasons for being there, the more positive energy going their way, the better.

Deep thoughts for today. "Love one another as I have loved you." More difficult words have never been uttered.

Scroogey

What do you do when you step outside of your comfort zone in theater? Ridiculous question, that; for, supposedly, if you're doing things well, you're constantly pushing the limits of your abilities and discovering new ways of thinking, being, and approaching the art and craft. I do have to say, though, that there is a big difference between being adventurous within a comfort zone, and being adventurous by leaving a comfort zone.

By example, I recently participated in a fun theater fundraiser (still have two more performances, actually) that involved teams of actors, writers, and directors who wrote and staged 10 minute plays in 24 hours. We received the general theme, one required line of dialogue, and one required prop at 6pm on a Friday, were divided randomly into 8 teams (one writer, one director, 2-3 actors), and were sent off on our own. The scripts were due at 6am, and the actors and directors had until 6:30 (the call time) Saturday evening to stage the show and memorize lines. I opted to act this time (definitely within my comfort zone), but when the writer asked if there was anything that we had never done on stage but that we really wanted to try, I said, "I want my character to sing. Something easy, but I want to sing." And so he wrote in a reference to South Pacific and I sang a bit of Bali Hai. The first night I lost the tune and half of the words while waiting backstage for my entrance (I had never heard Bali Hai before , and so had learned it along with the rest of my lines that day). The second night, I was pleased with my performance. I had stretched myself, but not leaped, so to speak.

I'm also stage managing a swell children's musical, and frankly, stage managing is not squarely within my comfort zone. I know the stage and rehearsal process from an actor's perspective, and it makes me a bit nervous to switch gears. I don't mind not being in the spotlight every time (that's truly not why I enjoy acting anyway), but I dislike uncertainty. I don't mind stepping up to the plate to fill in where needed, but I like to know that I'm doing my job, and a stage manager's job (at least in local/regional theater) seems so ambiguous to me until the performances start. This is, admittedly, a weakness on my part (no pun intended, of course). In this particular case, the process has been harder for me than it might otherwise have been, because I'm working with a new company -- which means new people (in particular, a new director) and new expectations. To put the icing on the cookie, the rehearsal process has been fast and furious. These kinds of new things are definitely not my forte, but I hope that this leap will prove beneficial to both me and the show.


Moral? There isn't one. Theater is exciting and unexpected in so many ways. I'm pleased whenever I step out of my box and try something different for me. And I'm terribly, unbelievably excited at the prospect of my 6 year old seeing the cool musical that his mom supported, despite her weak management skills. Go on: step out, take a risk, and be humbled and amazed.

Thanksgiving Bliss

Sappy posts aren't my style, at least not normally. As I sit here, though, nursing my little nursling, having just arrived home from an amazing rehearsal (during which I was pleased to be the stage manager while dying to join in on the songs), I am feeling quite sappy.

Thankful that I have the beautiful family that I am blessed to call mine; thankful for my friends near and far who don't mind having neurotic, slightly insane me as a friend; thankful for my three crazy dogs; thankful for my health and the support of my husband and mom which allows me to pursue theater. For all of this and more, I'll risk being sappy once in awhile.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A Very Long Break

Ahhh, it's summer. Summer is typically a down time for theater. There were a few projects that I could have worked on had I so desired, but I did not. Instead, I spent time with my children, took my oldest (5 soon to be 6 yrs) to see a rather good production of the Scottish play performed by teenagers, went on vacation, and for the most part, vegged. As almost always happens when I let myself relax a bit (if you can call raising 3 kids age 5 and under "relaxing"), my brain goes a little haywire. I start to plan things, and to think about theater productions. A long time ago, one of my most influential theater instructors gave his eager students this nugget of wisdom: Don't wait for someone to give you work. When you don't have work, make your own. Great advice! So, in my awesome amount of free time, I have begun to write a one woman show starring myself, and to plan a monthly drama hour for kids at my home theater. Oh, and I'm applying to grad school.

Really? Yup. And not for theater, although I have no intention of giving up theater at any tangible point in the future. I hope to get a MA in Journalism, and do some serious writing/photography in addition to my theater and kids. Am I crazy? Almost certainly. Perhaps it's because my husband is set to receive his PhD in CS in the next couple of months after many years of hard work. I may be afraid that suddenly my life will be too easy and stress-free. Ha.

What does this mean to you, sweet loyal reader of theater related blogs? Perhaps nothing. Perhaps, though, it says something about the diversity of those participating in the complex and intriguing world of theater arts. There are so many facets to the production of a production, that it should hardly be surprising to find that those who do it are multi-faceted as well. So, if you're out there thinking that you can't possibly be a "real" actor, playwright, lighting gal or guy, or what have you, because you also happen to draw damn good comics, or make a mean casserole at the cafeteria, or enjoy bussing small, half grown people around to various schools, you're wrong. The ability to do many things competently, and to ENJOY doing many things is what makes theater and those who produce it so darn interesting. So, here's a big YEEHAW to the many faces of the many faces of theater!

Success and Grace (thank you, M. S.)

I’m doing a show right now, which means that outside of rehearsal, my subconscious mind is immersed in the attitudes of my character and of the show in general. My mind continuously works away at the challenges my character faces and creates, and different parts of the fruits of that labor float to my consciousness with new meaning. My current character is broken, with little hope of redemption, both due to circumstances outside of her control, and because of her own willfulness. I have much in common with this character and her family, though I am farther removed from the circumstances that we share. Part of the difficulty of playing a character whose life and personality hit so close to home is that it involves a subtle danger – the danger of believing that you suffer the same delusions as your stage counterpart. What helps me with this the most is my character’s definition and understanding of two of the key elements of the play: success and grace.

By definition, success is “the gaining of wealth, fame, rank, etc.” (def. 3, Webster’s New World Dictionary). Grace, even with the aid of the dictionary, is more difficult to define. I will use “living in a condition of unmerited love and favor” (my own amalgamation) as well as the actions that would come from a person living fully in such a condition. My character would definitely define success in terms of worldly pursuits of wealth and material things, but her definition of grace is a very superficial one, at best: “help[ing] people”. She doesn’t understand the beauty (grace) of the people around her, and she certainly doesn’t know how best to “help” them. More than that, she doesn’t know that she is running the wrong race for the wrong reasons. Understanding this about her, fiction though she may be, helps ME to understand how different I, the flesh and blood person here, really am from her. My strides toward “success”, by any definition, are largely tempered by my understanding of “grace”, and by my desire to always pull forward to such a state. Her life is ruined by her negativity, her fear, and her un-tempered need to succeed at all costs. My success may be hampered by my own understanding of the impermanence of the material and social status oriented areas of life, and my trust in the idea of a higher power who gently leads us into a state of understanding what is truly important.

Nevertheless, my character’s negative, destructive nature can easily bring me down. In order to play a character with truth and grace, one must not judge, but accept and “become”. At this stage in the creative process, I am too aware of how I, as my character, am hurting those around me. Immersing myself in such a character can have great lessons and opportunities for growth for me as an actor and as a person if only I can find the balance that allows me to be her without judgment while onstage, and throw off the effects of her actions and philosophies as soon as I step off. It’s a fine line – if I distance myself from her too much, my lines will come from my head, and not my heart. If I identify with her too much, I risk believing that I am as broken as she, and thereby risk losing sight of the grace in my life. I’ve worked too hard to break down my own roadblocks of judgment and fear to allow such a thing to happen now. This is definitely one of the moments that being a wife and a mother meshes well with being a creative artist – I am allowed to grow, create, and experiment on stage, and then return to my life and the beauties that grace it in order to receive and give grounding and love. It is precisely this love that my character is unable to give or receive fully, thereby warping her definition of success and grace.

Cold Readings

A wise theater teacher once told me this about cold readings: The less cold they are, the better. In other words, a cold reading doesn’t have to be, and in most cases, shouldn’t be, entirely “cold”. In almost all cases, you can contact the theater or individuals holding auditions and request “sides” (scenes from the play being read). In some cases, particularly when the play is new or unpublished, you can ask to read the script in advance. With published plays, get thee to a library and read a copy.

Which brings me to an extremely important point about cold readings and auditioning for shows in general: it is prudent, wise, perhaps VERY, very wise, to read the script in advance whenever possible. This doesn’t always work out, and I don’t advise skipping an audition every time you’re unable to get a hold of the script, but there are going to be times when a read or partial read of a script is going to let you know just how desperate for a part you are not. There’s no sense wasting 3-6 weeks (plus performances) of your life on something you knew from the beginning you would hate. An advance read will also keep you from experiencing any unpleasant surprises, such as a strip tease in Act Two. Even when you decide the play is what you’re looking for, strip tease or not, it’s important to have a basic idea of what’s going on in the show so that you have a better idea of where to take your character in the audition. Your choices can be greatly informed by even a quick read of the script before your adrenaline is racing and your conscious mind is on auto-pilot. Familiarity with the script and characters before the audition will give you a sense of ownership in the show, and thereby, a greater confidence.

One warning: don’t become SO familiar with the script that you become immune to input from the other actors, the directors, and from your own instincts. In other words, no rehearsing and no memorizing. You want your audition to be fresh and unrehearsed, with strong choices and a confident air. So, cold readings? Ditch ‘em – you’re seeking toasty warm.

Bitten by the Bug

You’re sitting in the theater watching a play – any theater, any play will do at this point. You’re enjoying everything you see when... WAIT...what’s going on? Your skin is itching, your face is hot, your blood is racing to your heart – you can barely sit still. You can no longer bear to be a spectator to something that you suspect is taking over your very existence – you MUST be involved, somehow, someway. If you don’t do something soon, you may never be able to watch theater or movies or even tv again. You’ve been bitten by the theater bug and you’d better act fast (ha, ha)!

All joking aside, once this urge to participate hits you, it’s best to go with it. Where should you go with it? To a local theater, as fast as your legs or car or bike will take you. Why? Because they need enthusiastic volunteers and you need any and all experience that local and regional theater can give you. Are you already in a theater school? Terrific, you still need to immerse yourself in the processes of real, working theaters. Not in school yet? Great, you’ll have an opportunity to discuss your options with talented folks who can give you the scoop on what really matters. Depending on the size and focus of the theater or theaters that you choose to grace with your presence, you may receive opportunities to direct, produce, stage manage, star, costume, etc. that would not be available to you otherwise. Ushering, ticket sales, promotional duties, and other similar work is often available. If you really want to work in a theater someday, in any capacity, then get yourself to a theater. NOW.

A few caveats. When you get to said theater, be respectful. Of everyone and everything. Don’t assume that because someone is sweeping out the restrooms that they aren’t an accomplished playwright or the artistic director or an Equity member. Real theater people often wear many hats, as much because they enjoy doing so as because they sometimes need to do so. Don’t kiss anyone’s ass (it’s rarely worth it); instead, put on a professional face, roll up your sleeves, and be prepared for a great adventure. Find out what you can do now, and DO it. Follow through on your commitments, and your experience will be golden. Yogi Berra said at some point that “90% of life is showing up”. In theater, that’s doubly true. At the same time, recognize that once you establish yourself as a reliable and talented individual, your entire life can be spent moving from one (or two or three) unpaid/low paid project to another. Know your limits, and learn how to say, “I’m sorry, but my plate is really full right now. I hope we’re able to work together in the future.” Say it with me: “No, I can’t”. It’s simple, it’s important, and it doesn’t mean that you will never be asked to work again.

Keep careful track of your shows, capacity played, and contacts. It’s too easy to forget details weeks and months down the line. When you get phone numbers, file them away (but keep them discreet – it’s not professional to share other people’s personal info without their permission). If possible keep a portfolio of your work. Take notes. Grow, share, become a professional one (or two or three) project(s) at a time. Wherever you end up later, the experiences you have here will serve you well all of your life.

Next time: Cold Readings (how cold are they?)

Theater and Motherhood

Some people have a lifelong plan before they hit the age of 15. Some develop a plan by the time they reach college, and stick to it, for good or ill. Others don’t figure out who they are and what they want until it’s absolutely the least convenient, almost impossible time to pursue their dreams simultaneously. That’d be me. I’ve always LOVED performing, writing, art, and similar pursuits, but a tiny crush on my pediatrician at the age of 5 led me to announce my plans to become a doctor. Stubborn kiddo that I was (am?), I held onto that ambition all the way through high school and into my first semester of college. At that point, I realized (with a little help from a painful theory heavy chemistry class) how I had been spending all of my extracurricular time since at least 4^th grade: writing, acting, doing art, speech and debate, language clubs, and so forth. True, I was fascinated by science, but not enough to study it day in and out, and certainly not enough to sacrifice so much of my life to pursue it. This would have been an excellent time to change my major to theater, or to begin pursuing theater and acting outside of a university setting, but I lacked one thing, a thing that I would not possess for a very long time: confidence. I was intimidated by theater students, certain that my desire to be a part of their world was only a delusional wish, with no “real” talent to back it up. Still, I continued to do a low scale show or two a year until I was I about to graduate from college (with a degree in history, minors in English and Computer Science – just about everything BUT theater or performing arts), at which point I finally formally announced my desire to pursue theater. I also was ready to start a family with my sweetheart – my husband of 3 1/2 years (yes, I married “early” and graduated “late”). Long story, short? I was quickly preggo with my first beautiful babe, and starting to enter the world of local/regional theater.

Fast forward a few years: I am now a part of two theater companies, do theater on a very regular basis, have 3 children under 5 ½ years, and am expanding my experience rapidly. I have acted, written, and even produced and directed (on a small scale). Not much perhaps for many theater enthusiasts, but frankly I am amazed at what the past 6 years have brought, given the time I’ve had available. As my children grow, I’ll be better able to travel farther and work more to follow my dreams to their next level. My current love is IMT: improvisational movement theatre. It’s an amazing blend of storytelling and movement, all improvised within a loose structure. You can see more about it here: www.nellweatherwax.com

So the real question begs to be answered: do theater and motherhood mesh? The answer is a complicated yes. Perhaps a better question would be: can two (or more) passions, both labor intensive and requiring focus, energy, and positive emotion, mesh? Motherhood is a passion and a calling in its own right; challenging, consuming, with an unbelievable intensity. Theater, at its best, is all of this, too. I’ve found that either ambition alone has the power to bring out my best while draining from me every ounce of energy, wearing me to a small nub of a soul. Together, carefully balanced like a vegetarian dinner in the ‘70s, what one takes away, the other gives back in spades. What I thought was an unfortunate and lamentable bit of timing, raising children and pursuing a dream, however slowly, turns out to be the best kind of grounding that I could hope for. What might seem to some a slow, tedious process has proven to be just right for me. Armed with this confidence, I know that I’ll be able not only to follow my own creative path, but to show my children how to do the same. Who knows, maybe they will use this knowledge gained at an early and impressionable age to become those rare and enviable teenagers: the ones who possess a keen understanding of self and are able to forge their path early and well. One can certainly dream!

Next time: Bitten by the Bug (what do I do now?)