3 Things

I've valiantly resisted the viral "25 Random Things" Facebook post, but I have to admit that the format is pretty enticing to a girl buried under the first month of her last semester of undergrad. So here goes my edited version: Twenty-Five minus Twenty-Two Not Very Random Things About Me and Theatre.

1.) I think a lot about how a surrounding can influence the impression of a production. I was recently able to revisit this idea first-hand as the lucky recipient of a friend-of-a-friend's extra ticket for Chekov’s The Cherry Orchard at BAM. I was leaving work when I got the call, and before I knew it, I found myself mingling with a group of charming upper middle (lower upper?) class folks. My favorite was a sassy old woman boasting a diamond-studded Obama shirt, enlightening the entire women's bathroom line with her (intelligent!) ideas concerning the possible purpose behind the production's design concept. Sure, I felt a little out of place, but I was in total rapture. OF COURSE, the play I happened to catch was centered on social Darwinism and the dangerous mixture of class structure. I was relishing my new found atmosphere, much like Lopakhin was in his climb towards the top, and my fondness for the company I was with sentimentalized those characters on their way down. This is a production I would have enjoyed anywhere, but the warm, sparkling camaraderie I discovered myself misplaced in was a magnifying glass, drawing the play closer so I could recognize the familiarity.


2.) I'm quite steeped in theatre theory currently, as I've started an interesting course on 20th Century theatre. While reading an excerpt from Wagner’s Outlines of the Artwork of the Future! (Sorry Wagner, but an exclamation point belongs at the end of a title like that) I noticed that he used the masculine pronoun to describe all artists, but he used the feminine pronoun to describe art itself. I don't know if I should be offended or complimented. What do you guys think?


3.) On a whim, Collin and I went to see a show we knew absolutely nothing about, just because there was a pay-what-you-can special. All we had was an address. Turns out it was Virginia Woolfe's only play, Freshwater directed by the talented Anne Bogart at The Women's Project Theatre. Wow. That was lucky. GO SEE IT. It's a little pricey if you didn't catch the deal, and besides obvious artistic merit, they make it quite clear that there is not much more the play offers other than top notch hilarity. Yet in that promise they sure do deliver; this farcical, slap-stick, absurdly ridiculous parlor piece might as well equip its audience members with seat belts. I can’t remember the last time I had so much good, clean fun at a play.

When was the last time you had a blast at a show? (If you say Blasted, I will hunt you down and punch you in the shoulder...or eat your eyeballs). Seriously, though, I really want to know. What show was it? What was it about the show that made it so much fun? Let me know! Thanks for reading (and dealing with my obsessive parenthetical phrases)!

The Collaborative Theater - PART TWO: The Actor's Manifesto

       Undoubtedly, Theater is an Art. And in that, Acting is an Art. It involves both a skilled intellect and a willingness to open one's self to a viscerally vulnerable place. And because an Actor's work demands such great personal sensitivity, it demands a certain level of respect from all co-workers, making them an equal among the creative playing field. I have, however, witnessed others take advantage of Actors due to a perceived notion that they are both desperate and disposable.

       Those people – those ideas – frustrate me. Yet venting this frustration is only blowing hot air in a humid cavern. So instead of allowing the belittling nature of another to propagate to a point of the recipient's need to vent frustration, we all simply need not let our status lower in the face of what we have been told is “authority.”* The murk of the cavern floor is littered with matches, so make a spark.

Just to let you know, having worked at both an agency and in casting, I can assure you that appointments are often given with 24-48 hours notice.  Actors schedules need to be flexible to accommodate audition opportunities.

In an ideal world, it would be great if these things could be arranged with more advanced notice, but that isn't something this industry is able to consistently provide at this time.

       This was part of an email I received from an artistic director when trying to coordinate an audition for a show I happened to have helped workshop into fruition that past summer. It is in response to my request that I be given ample time to schedule and prepare for an audition appointment - something roughly more than 24 hours, seeing as how I am a full-time student, have a full-time job, and was, at the time, in rehearsal for two shows. And as strange as it may sound, I still had ample time to schedule an audition, had this company been willing to reply to an email (or four) so that it could indeed be scheduled.

       I never attended their audition. But the reason we actors are still ambling in the dark is because many people did go to that audition. Those “in charge” - anyone who wrangles sole control over a theater company - have shoved actors into a box at the bottom of their closets, easily accessible for when it comes time for them to flaunt their “artistic genius.” And complacently, we Actors sit here, like a stick in the mud, because they tell us to. Because “actors schedules need to be flexible to accommodate audition opportunities,” as though their show is far superior to one’s own individual artistic credit.

       What we need to be doing is asserting ourselves. Ask questions, and want clarification when when your questions are not answered. Come prepared - research what you can (play / company / playwright / director), rehearse your audition pieces thoroughly, warm up - and be willing to not take an audition when it would require compromising one’s professional life - when it would not allow decent preparation, or hinders one’s quality of life by interfering with work, school, or any other life-sustaining commitment. We, Actors, are Artists. And we should think of ourselves as such. Those offering us “audition opportunities” are no better nor no more important than us; they need us just as we need them. 

       There is no light at the end of this tunnel, because it is not a tunnel we are in. This dark cavern only gets brighter, only gets better, if we make it so. Pick up a match, light a fire, make a change. And though I speak specifically on behalf of the Actor, this should go for any practicing theater artist.

       Because I believe in Collaboration.

* admittedly, frustration can rear its proverbial head in so many ways, one inevitably encounters it interminably. But that is a discussion for another day.