This weekend I finished reading a book titled Hamlet's Dresser by Bob Smith.
I've been doing a lot of reading since graduating in May. I've been reading a lot of my usual stuff. I love books where huge, government conspiracy theories are involved. There's a team of heroes who are both extremely athletic and lethal, but they are also sophisticated and their minds store immense amounts of knowledge. They somehow save the world book after book, usually work in a little romance (sex), and keep me utterly thrilled until the last page. I love that type of fiction, the kind where it combines history and spy. It's like Indiana Jones meets James Bond.
Now, I will happily say that I love this type of novel. But, I will not say that any of these books have ever changed my life. Those pieces of literature are in another list. A list that includes Norton Juster's The Phantom Tollbooth, F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, William Shakespeare's Macbeth, William Mann's Object of Desire, and most recently added to the list...Hamlet's Dresser by Bob Smith.
A few weeks ago I was wandering the aisles of the Rock Hill Public Library. I really enjoy spending time at that library. It's small and the people behind the counter are always very, very nice. I was just looking around. I had a book or two on reserve behind the counter so I didn't really need to be looking for anything else, but I just love to walk around libraries sometimes. There's something about that level of enjoyed quiet...that community understanding that this is a place where people read. It's an awesome feeling.
So, I am exploring the shelves when I stumble upon a copy of the first folio of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. It is (obviously) not an original copy of the text, but it looks like a photocopy of something very close to the original. I flip through those pages for a few minutes and see that the shelf is littered with different memoirs, biographies, and adventures all related to the Bard himself. One title strikes my fancy...Hamlet's Dresser...
I pick up the book and love the graphic of a young man listening to a performance of Hamlet offstage. It is ghostly and gray and makes me think of the ghost of Hamlet's father. I read the small description of the book on the inside cover and instantly decide to give the book a whirl.
When I get home I set my books down in my room and don't really get the chance to read for a few days. When I do, I decide to go with Hamlet's Dresser because it is short and appeals to me the most in that moment.
In Henry V I have a lot of breaks. Nym comes on in Act 2 for two scenes, has a break until Act 3 where he is in the first scene, and then he has a long break until a small section in Act 4. During those down moments, I needed something to keep my mind activated. I didn't want to just sit around. I wanted to be thinking. So, I brought in this book. The subject matter couldn't have been better.
So, during my breaks...I was discovering something about William Shakespeare. I was discovering just how much Shakespeare can relate to a person's life. I always had a great relationship with Shakespeare's texts, but this book showed me just how deeply a relationship with the world's greatest playwright can go.
Bob Smith tells the story of his life. From the moment of his birth until he is a man in his mid-sixties, the reader follows Bob through the good times and bad. And throughout it all...Shakespeare is there.
Time after time, Bob tells us a story. And at the end of those paragraphs a selection from a sonnet or a play sits waiting. You read this small citation and the story comes back to life, but in different words. Bob finds and presents these connections between real life and the lives of the characters in the Bard's writings.
It's amazing how real...how much a part of humanity these characters are. After seeings Bob's life analogies, you start to examine your own life in comparison to Shakespeare's writings and you see just how universal the concepts truly are.
This book showed me a completely different way to look at Shakespeare. As an actor, I have always viewed the man as nothing more than a playwright. He wrote these great pieces for us to bring to life onstage. But, in truth, these scripts are so much just in themselves. They are philosophical. They are encouraging. They are a kindred spirit. They are someone who understands exactly how you feel.
I hadn't been so affected in a long time. To see how much of an inspiration William Shakespeare had on this man's life...it was amazing. It was beautiful.
It just showed my how important the arts truly are. They awaken our hearts. They awaken our minds. They allow us to relate to another. They give us a shoulder to cry on. They give us feeling. And most importantly...they allow us to dream.
As I closed the final pages of this book...I realized that for the rest of my life I will commit myself to keeping those feelings alive.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Wake me up when September ends...oh crap...it already did...
So...obviously September was a busy month. I apologize for not posting again until now, but at this moment I do have a major reason to be writing.
Last Friday, September 30 at 10AM marked the opening performance for Saint Louis Shakespeare's production of Henry V. This also marked my first performance with this tremendous company of theatre artists.
For our first performance the audience was packed with well over 100 students from schools in the Saint Louis area. A majority of the students were in high school. Before walking onstage I found myself getting really nervous and I wasn't exactly sure why.
We had rehearsed for weeks. I knew all my lines. I knew my blocking. I was ready for this. But, the one thing that made it all different was the audience. But it wasn't just the "what" of having an audience in front of the stage...it was the "who" as in the makeup of the audience...high school students. Students are honest. They don't hide what they're thinking or feeling to protect someone's feelings. They are blunt. They tell it like they see it. Would they tell me exactly what they saw?
I was nervous that instead of being judged on my character or my acting ability, I would be judged by my appearance. I'm a big guy. I'm 6' 5". I wear a size 14 shoe. And I've got a gut. Would a completely student audience not be able to look beyond that and see all that I had worked on? I wasn't sure.
The first time I walked on that stage...I found my answer. I heard the chuckles and the giggles. I heard the whispers and I knew exactly what they were in response to. They were in response to me. Not my costume. Not my delivery of the lines. But...me.
It hit me surprisingly harder than I thought it would. But then, as quickly as it hit...I pushed it away. I had a job to do. I had a role to portray. And the thing I told myself was...they are laughing at Nym. Nym is a big coward. I remember saying in my mind...
"Andrew. You are not a big coward. Nym is. They are laughing at Nym."
And from that point on. I was fine. I will admit that I was out of it for a second or two. I was self conscious of what was going on. But, from that point on...it was on.
I've been learning something ever since graduation from college. It was something I never could learn while a student because I wasn't ready. I always thought that my body was going to continually hold me back. I would never play Romeo. I would never be that lead actor that won the heart of a beautiful leading actress. And no matter how many amazing opportunities I had, that was always in the back of my mind. It was stupid. It was jealousy and fear creeping up...continually! I would feel sorry for myself and then I would feel even worse because I knew I shouldn't be having those thoughts.
But, since I've gotten to Saint Louis, I've realized that I'm okay with that. I'm okay with who I am. No, I'm happy with who I am. I've learned that what I have won't play Romeo, but it might play the Clown in A Winter's Tale. It might play Launce in Two Gentlemen of Verona. And those are great roles!
Nym has taught me a lot. He has taught me to accept who I am. It's a concept I am (definitely) not used to, but when that I am growing to truly appreciate.
Last Friday, September 30 at 10AM marked the opening performance for Saint Louis Shakespeare's production of Henry V. This also marked my first performance with this tremendous company of theatre artists.
For our first performance the audience was packed with well over 100 students from schools in the Saint Louis area. A majority of the students were in high school. Before walking onstage I found myself getting really nervous and I wasn't exactly sure why.
We had rehearsed for weeks. I knew all my lines. I knew my blocking. I was ready for this. But, the one thing that made it all different was the audience. But it wasn't just the "what" of having an audience in front of the stage...it was the "who" as in the makeup of the audience...high school students. Students are honest. They don't hide what they're thinking or feeling to protect someone's feelings. They are blunt. They tell it like they see it. Would they tell me exactly what they saw?
I was nervous that instead of being judged on my character or my acting ability, I would be judged by my appearance. I'm a big guy. I'm 6' 5". I wear a size 14 shoe. And I've got a gut. Would a completely student audience not be able to look beyond that and see all that I had worked on? I wasn't sure.
The first time I walked on that stage...I found my answer. I heard the chuckles and the giggles. I heard the whispers and I knew exactly what they were in response to. They were in response to me. Not my costume. Not my delivery of the lines. But...me.
It hit me surprisingly harder than I thought it would. But then, as quickly as it hit...I pushed it away. I had a job to do. I had a role to portray. And the thing I told myself was...they are laughing at Nym. Nym is a big coward. I remember saying in my mind...
"Andrew. You are not a big coward. Nym is. They are laughing at Nym."
And from that point on. I was fine. I will admit that I was out of it for a second or two. I was self conscious of what was going on. But, from that point on...it was on.
I've been learning something ever since graduation from college. It was something I never could learn while a student because I wasn't ready. I always thought that my body was going to continually hold me back. I would never play Romeo. I would never be that lead actor that won the heart of a beautiful leading actress. And no matter how many amazing opportunities I had, that was always in the back of my mind. It was stupid. It was jealousy and fear creeping up...continually! I would feel sorry for myself and then I would feel even worse because I knew I shouldn't be having those thoughts.
But, since I've gotten to Saint Louis, I've realized that I'm okay with that. I'm okay with who I am. No, I'm happy with who I am. I've learned that what I have won't play Romeo, but it might play the Clown in A Winter's Tale. It might play Launce in Two Gentlemen of Verona. And those are great roles!
Nym has taught me a lot. He has taught me to accept who I am. It's a concept I am (definitely) not used to, but when that I am growing to truly appreciate.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Revelations on a Keyboard
This blog is a little late coming. But, it's the first time I've had to write a new one!
So, since August 8 I have been an employee of a school district here in St. Louis. I have been working at the high school that I graduated from and with the drama teacher who fostered and helped developed my passion for theatre. I always knew that somewhere inside of me, I wanted to teach. Someday, I wanted to be able to instill in other high school age kids a love for theatre that would be powerful...that would be able to hopefully change their lives. But, I never knew when this was going to happen.
I didn't graduate with any type of certification so that I could teach. I knew that I would need to go back to school. And I also knew that the next time I wanted to go back to school, I wanted it to be for my MFA in Acting.
It's funny how things change...I don't know what it is. It could be a combination of a lot of factors. I feel more useful than I've felt in a long time. I feel like I am giving something to these kids. It doesn't even closely measure up to what they are giving me. It also has to do with the fact that I am working with a man who has truly changed my life. The man who gave me theatre. That's a big deal to me because without it I don't know who I would be today.
But, things have definitely changed. I need to teach. Let me be a little more clear...I need to teach theatre. I need to be able to work with people like this on a daily basis. I have such a strong attachment to this community already and I've only been working there such a short time. But, (this is going to sound SO corny) lightning strikes fast (I told you so.) and I've been hit.
Saturday, I spent all day at a Speech Workshop at one of the local high schools. It was a long day. I got home and I was exhausted. I needed my bed, badly. But, no matter how tired I was, I could not help smiling. I knew that they could call me up and say "We need you to take a group to another workshop tomorrow." And I would be there with a sweater vest on faster than you can imagine.
Now, don't get me wrong. I will still be an actor as well. I will find the energy (hopefully) to audition for companies. And no matter where life takes me I will still be doing and creating theatre. That's the great thing about education. Not only will I be creating theatre, but students will as well. We will have our own theatre company...it will just have a four year membership.
But, for right now, I'm looking into schools that I can attend and get my Teacher Certification for Theatre/Speech. By just typing that, I now that it's right.
It's things like this that get me really excited. I've always been this huge planner. I make these immense plans and I lay them out. I convince myself that this plan is the exact way my life needs to go. And for about a week I commit myself to those goals. But, then I find something else.
Law school.
Curating a museum.
Running for President.
Working on a cruise ship.
Working for a vacation rental company.
I tell myself "This is what I need to be happy". And I mean, I could be happy doing any of these things. But, the problem was, I had never really experienced any of them. I just imagined how cool it would be to do that thing. I had friends doing it. Or I had family members tell me "You would be such a good lawyer" and so I would say "You're right. I'll do that". But, what I really needed was to experience something.
I needed to let the right thing come to me...find me, instead of me desperately grasping on to any possibility. I think that's why I like this so much. Two days after I graduated from college I was in my car driving back to St. Louis and I called my old high school drama teacher. I asked if he had any openings helping with the program. He said "Well...". And the rest is history.
I like to look at it like this. For so long, I've been trying to find the word that will define my life. And now, I've finally realized the essential truth...there isn't one word. I'm going to be a teacher. I'm going to be an actor. I'm going to be a writer. I'm going to be a student. I'm going to be a listener. I'm going to be a director.
I'm going to be inspired.
I'm going to be happy.
So, since August 8 I have been an employee of a school district here in St. Louis. I have been working at the high school that I graduated from and with the drama teacher who fostered and helped developed my passion for theatre. I always knew that somewhere inside of me, I wanted to teach. Someday, I wanted to be able to instill in other high school age kids a love for theatre that would be powerful...that would be able to hopefully change their lives. But, I never knew when this was going to happen.
I didn't graduate with any type of certification so that I could teach. I knew that I would need to go back to school. And I also knew that the next time I wanted to go back to school, I wanted it to be for my MFA in Acting.
It's funny how things change...I don't know what it is. It could be a combination of a lot of factors. I feel more useful than I've felt in a long time. I feel like I am giving something to these kids. It doesn't even closely measure up to what they are giving me. It also has to do with the fact that I am working with a man who has truly changed my life. The man who gave me theatre. That's a big deal to me because without it I don't know who I would be today.
But, things have definitely changed. I need to teach. Let me be a little more clear...I need to teach theatre. I need to be able to work with people like this on a daily basis. I have such a strong attachment to this community already and I've only been working there such a short time. But, (this is going to sound SO corny) lightning strikes fast (I told you so.) and I've been hit.
Saturday, I spent all day at a Speech Workshop at one of the local high schools. It was a long day. I got home and I was exhausted. I needed my bed, badly. But, no matter how tired I was, I could not help smiling. I knew that they could call me up and say "We need you to take a group to another workshop tomorrow." And I would be there with a sweater vest on faster than you can imagine.
Now, don't get me wrong. I will still be an actor as well. I will find the energy (hopefully) to audition for companies. And no matter where life takes me I will still be doing and creating theatre. That's the great thing about education. Not only will I be creating theatre, but students will as well. We will have our own theatre company...it will just have a four year membership.
But, for right now, I'm looking into schools that I can attend and get my Teacher Certification for Theatre/Speech. By just typing that, I now that it's right.
It's things like this that get me really excited. I've always been this huge planner. I make these immense plans and I lay them out. I convince myself that this plan is the exact way my life needs to go. And for about a week I commit myself to those goals. But, then I find something else.
Law school.
Curating a museum.
Running for President.
Working on a cruise ship.
Working for a vacation rental company.
I tell myself "This is what I need to be happy". And I mean, I could be happy doing any of these things. But, the problem was, I had never really experienced any of them. I just imagined how cool it would be to do that thing. I had friends doing it. Or I had family members tell me "You would be such a good lawyer" and so I would say "You're right. I'll do that". But, what I really needed was to experience something.
I needed to let the right thing come to me...find me, instead of me desperately grasping on to any possibility. I think that's why I like this so much. Two days after I graduated from college I was in my car driving back to St. Louis and I called my old high school drama teacher. I asked if he had any openings helping with the program. He said "Well...". And the rest is history.
I like to look at it like this. For so long, I've been trying to find the word that will define my life. And now, I've finally realized the essential truth...there isn't one word. I'm going to be a teacher. I'm going to be an actor. I'm going to be a writer. I'm going to be a student. I'm going to be a listener. I'm going to be a director.
I'm going to be inspired.
I'm going to be happy.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
It's a little early for Christmas...who cares!
But, my love and adoration for all things Christmas is not the reason I found myself singing this beloved carol. You see, I had an audition today with the city of St. Charles for an upcoming production they are hosting titled "St. Charles Christmas Traditions".
The production (as I understand so far) is basically a winter wonderland for families to explore. There are carolers, characters from A Christmas Carol, and much more to discover. The second I saw the listing for this audition on stlauditions.com I knew that I had to be a part of it. But, sadly, I had missed the dates. So, I emailed the address provided on the listing and found out that luckily they were looking for more guys to audition. An audition was set up for earlier this evening and I drove to Old Town St. Charles.
The second my car hit the old brick roads of Main Street I truly knew how badly I wanted to work on this for the upcoming Christmas season. I wasn't exactly sure why, but as I drove by some of my favorite places (Trailhead, Lewis and Clark, etc.) I realized how great an opportunity and time it would be to work there during the holidays.
I walked into the Tourist's Center and waited for my turn to audition. The audition was a little non-traditional which I thought was really neat. We were given a story that we were to retell in our own words. Throughout the story we switched character types to match with what might be found in the production.
I loved this. For our audition we were asked...to create a piece. Right there. On the spot. Such an awesome opportunity to create something original! Falling into the different characters and making the piece my own I presented it to the two ladies behind the casting table. They seemed to enjoy it...which we will truly find out on Monday when we are contacted about casting.
The great thing about this audition was the fact that it was so comfortable. I walked into that space and felt so welcomed by all the faces that I saw. The other actors who were present were kind and funny. I found myself wanting to work with them, wanting to be able to do theatre with them. Even the people working in the building were very kind, offering chairs and giving greetings. It was a great experience.
I love being able to leave an audition with a smile on my face. That's also why I love Christmas. No matter where I go, I know that I will wind up having to deal with cranky shoppers and crazy traffic, but I constantly find myself smiling. Christmas music is in the air and kids seem to be happier. Santa Claus is at the mall and you get to wear scarves!!! It's all about the little things. "
To some this would be a small time audition, but for me it meant getting to be a part of creating a specific atmosphere for people. And that's something I really want to be a part of.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Space
There are few more architecturally stunning places than a theater. My reasoning behind this is quite simple actually because...a theater can by anyplace. I'm a firm believer in that. Standing on a sidewalk delivering a monologue...theatre. Playing out a scene in a store front...theatre. Performing a solo on the stage of a Broadway playhouse...theatre.
It's one of the things that makes theatre such an amazing art form. It can happen anywhere. But no matter what type of space you are performing in, one thing is true: walking into that space and playing invites and entirely new dynamic to the production you are working on.
Luckily for me, at the University I attended our rehearsals were universally held in the space in which we would be performing. This luxury is not afforded to a vast number of theatre companies out there. You find that you are in conference rooms, lobbies, any type of available space and trying to create what will be the world of your play.
This had been true for the current production I am working on, Henry V with STL Shakespeare. We had been working in the lobby of the Grandel Theater as well as a beautiful room on the second floor with huge cathedral ceilings. But, we all knew that beyond a single set of doors sat our true home. The pull of two handles and we would be stepping into England and France.
Last Thursday, the doors opened. We walked into the mainstage space at the Grandel Theater. There's something about a space that theatre has happened in. It has a certain feel, a certain weight. It feels utilized. It feels...like a teddy bear. I know that this sounds like a weird analogy, but give me one moment.
When I was a kid, I had this blue teddy bear who was named...Blueberry Bear. Blueberry Bear was my favorite stuffed animal in the world. He would always be in my bed, he was my constant companion. He was the perfect size to hug and hold. I truly appreciated what Blueberry Bear gave me. He gave me warmth, connection, and love even though he was an inanimate object. Years went by and Blueberry bear began to lose his perfect shine. It wasn't that he looked worse, it was that he looked worn...more loved. He had been through something and you could see that when you looked at him. He had seen good days and bad days. He had seen cries and laughs. He had history that was tangible. And I loved him all the more for it.
Theaters do the same thing. They have their scratch marks, their second coats of paint, and their worn curtains. But, to us these things don't look used and abused. They don't look old, they don't look dingy. They look used. They look loved. They wear their history on their sleeve. They invite us to create and make mistakes. They give us a connection to those who have performed before us.
The Grandel had me feeling this way the second I walked on to its stage. I remember walking through the stage entrance from the side parking lot and seeing the black hardwood floor. Embarrassingly enough, it's one of my favorite sights in the world. I remember the heavy black curtains that sat pulled to each wing. I remember looking out at the audience and suddenly feeling this sense of welcoming. The dark wood accents that frame the balconies, the red velvet seats, the shining black lighting instruments...all of it saying that this is where you should be. It's a feeling you don't forget.
That night I had trouble finding reason for the smile to leave my face. I loved seeing all of the actors walk onstage and look out into the rows of seats. It was like a rite of passage. You couldn't just walk and sit down. You had to create a path that would definitely take you over the stage floor. You had to feel that welcome.
And the best part of it all is that it is a universal feeling. No matter how new the space is, or how old it is...it still has that feeling...it still says "Welcome back."
It's one of the things that makes theatre such an amazing art form. It can happen anywhere. But no matter what type of space you are performing in, one thing is true: walking into that space and playing invites and entirely new dynamic to the production you are working on.
Luckily for me, at the University I attended our rehearsals were universally held in the space in which we would be performing. This luxury is not afforded to a vast number of theatre companies out there. You find that you are in conference rooms, lobbies, any type of available space and trying to create what will be the world of your play.
This had been true for the current production I am working on, Henry V with STL Shakespeare. We had been working in the lobby of the Grandel Theater as well as a beautiful room on the second floor with huge cathedral ceilings. But, we all knew that beyond a single set of doors sat our true home. The pull of two handles and we would be stepping into England and France.
When I was a kid, I had this blue teddy bear who was named...Blueberry Bear. Blueberry Bear was my favorite stuffed animal in the world. He would always be in my bed, he was my constant companion. He was the perfect size to hug and hold. I truly appreciated what Blueberry Bear gave me. He gave me warmth, connection, and love even though he was an inanimate object. Years went by and Blueberry bear began to lose his perfect shine. It wasn't that he looked worse, it was that he looked worn...more loved. He had been through something and you could see that when you looked at him. He had seen good days and bad days. He had seen cries and laughs. He had history that was tangible. And I loved him all the more for it.
Theaters do the same thing. They have their scratch marks, their second coats of paint, and their worn curtains. But, to us these things don't look used and abused. They don't look old, they don't look dingy. They look used. They look loved. They wear their history on their sleeve. They invite us to create and make mistakes. They give us a connection to those who have performed before us.
The Grandel had me feeling this way the second I walked on to its stage. I remember walking through the stage entrance from the side parking lot and seeing the black hardwood floor. Embarrassingly enough, it's one of my favorite sights in the world. I remember the heavy black curtains that sat pulled to each wing. I remember looking out at the audience and suddenly feeling this sense of welcoming. The dark wood accents that frame the balconies, the red velvet seats, the shining black lighting instruments...all of it saying that this is where you should be. It's a feeling you don't forget.
That night I had trouble finding reason for the smile to leave my face. I loved seeing all of the actors walk onstage and look out into the rows of seats. It was like a rite of passage. You couldn't just walk and sit down. You had to create a path that would definitely take you over the stage floor. You had to feel that welcome.
And the best part of it all is that it is a universal feeling. No matter how new the space is, or how old it is...it still has that feeling...it still says "Welcome back."
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Callbacks!
Callbacks. You've proven yourself once, proven that your chops are up to snuff to be cast. But, what the director still needs to know is: If you're cast...what role will you be portraying?
Today I found myself trying to find the answer to that question for 17 people. It's a difficult process, much more difficult than I expected it to be. You see these actors who present great, first rate auditions and you think "Yes. They are perfect for this role." So, you bring them to the callback and have them read and...your mind is changed. Or, in a more positive example. You see these actors who barely squeak by, but then you put a copy of the script in their hands and they bring something to life that you never would have expected to see.
For me, one of the greatest assets of the callback is the adjustment. I loved when a director would have us run a scene, then give us a couple of notes to think about, and then have us run it again. That time with the director was always special to me because it meant the director was combining you as an actor with the character that you were portraying. And even if you weren't cast in that part for a few moments you had some one-on-one time the director. You earned the opportunity to show them something. And you also got some advice from another theatre professional.
Today, for the first time, I was the one giving the adjustment and it was an awesome moment. Talking with these actors and helping them, giving them guidance without outright telling them what you were looking for. And the best part of it all is the look of understanding. That eureka moment when you see that they realize exactly what you were talking about but they have discovered in in their own way. Then they walk on that stage, read it again, and you see a world of difference. You see an actor working for something that they believe in on an individual basis.
Then you see that look on their face as they walk off from the scene. It's that look that reads...it worked. That's what it's all about and that's what makes me think I want to be an educator. To see the look of success on someone's face is such a rewarding experience. To know that something, even if tiny, helped them in finding the right path is one of the greatest feelings in the world.
That's the amazing thing about students. You try and teach them, and then in return they inspire you. It's an awesome exchange.
Today I found myself trying to find the answer to that question for 17 people. It's a difficult process, much more difficult than I expected it to be. You see these actors who present great, first rate auditions and you think "Yes. They are perfect for this role." So, you bring them to the callback and have them read and...your mind is changed. Or, in a more positive example. You see these actors who barely squeak by, but then you put a copy of the script in their hands and they bring something to life that you never would have expected to see.
For me, one of the greatest assets of the callback is the adjustment. I loved when a director would have us run a scene, then give us a couple of notes to think about, and then have us run it again. That time with the director was always special to me because it meant the director was combining you as an actor with the character that you were portraying. And even if you weren't cast in that part for a few moments you had some one-on-one time the director. You earned the opportunity to show them something. And you also got some advice from another theatre professional.
Today, for the first time, I was the one giving the adjustment and it was an awesome moment. Talking with these actors and helping them, giving them guidance without outright telling them what you were looking for. And the best part of it all is the look of understanding. That eureka moment when you see that they realize exactly what you were talking about but they have discovered in in their own way. Then they walk on that stage, read it again, and you see a world of difference. You see an actor working for something that they believe in on an individual basis.
Then you see that look on their face as they walk off from the scene. It's that look that reads...it worked. That's what it's all about and that's what makes me think I want to be an educator. To see the look of success on someone's face is such a rewarding experience. To know that something, even if tiny, helped them in finding the right path is one of the greatest feelings in the world.
That's the amazing thing about students. You try and teach them, and then in return they inspire you. It's an awesome exchange.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Looking at Auditions in a New Light
But, I loved acting. Actually, I loved the idea of acting. I loved movies. I loved the lives of famous actors. I loved playing games where I got to direct my sister around. So, I sucked it up and decided to audition for Our Town. I found an awesome (not really) monologue online where I was playing this popular jock character (typecasting). I remember running it over in my mind over and over again as I walked around the track in gym class. I had it down. The day came for the auditions and I was psyched. I was totally ready...until seventh hour. My stomach began exploding. I was having trouble breathing. My eyes got watery. I went straight to Mr. Mueller (my drama teacher) and told him "I have to go home. I'm having stomach issues. Can I do my audition tomorrow?" He agreed and I ran to the bus. I sat down and all of my symptoms magically went away.
I auditioned the next day. I imagine it went okay because I was cast as Constable Warren. I, for the life of me, cannot remember performing that monologue. I remember being sick. I remember the day I didn't audition even more than the day I actually ended up walking on to that stage.
Since that day, I've auditioned many more times. Some have gone great, some have gone okay, and some have gone horribly. But, each audition is less memorable than that very first one, that very first high school audition. It's funny because currently I am working at the same high school I graduated from. I am the Theatre/Speech Assistant to my old Dram teacher, Mr. Mueller and yesterday and today were our auditions for the first play of the school year. Quite a few freshmen came out to audition and I think I really learned something important.
As those of us in the theatre world do more and more auditions, they almost become commonplace. They become our type of job interview. Of course, we get nervous as we walk into that space and see those faces looking back at us, but I think the audition tends to lose its magic.
It becomes a necessity. It becomes a dream maker or a heart breaker. And I think that all of us first look at it as the heartbreaker. For a long time, I belonged to the school of thought that telling myself I wasn't going to get a part from an audition was the best way to walk into that type of situation. That way, if I wasn't cast "Well of course that makes sense. I knew I would get anything." And if I did get cast "Oh my gosh. I did not think this was going to happen." That's where my problem stems from.
I looked at all auditions as having only one, singular purpose...to get me a job. WRONG! An audition is so much more.
As those kids walked on the stage , many were nervous, but there was something else behind what they were performing. Joy.
For 1 to 2 minutes they had a stage to themselves. For 1 to 2 minutes they were stepping outside of the box and creating an entirely different world. They were bringing something that they found on paper to life. And that was evident in all of their work. It was free. I loved that. They dared to try different things because they didn't know what was right and what was wrong. They knew that some were going to get cast and some weren't, but they also knew that they got to stand on a stage for 1 to 2 minutes and become what we have all wanted to be...an actor.
For that short amount of time their dreams had come true. The audition for them was a dream maker and that's a beautiful thing.
That's what these auditions has shown me. One of my professors, Steve Snyder has always said that an audition was more than just another interview. It's a time to fine tune your craft, work on a monologue, etc. I always heard this and I know that I stored it away somewhere because I am recalling it right now...but I don't think I ever truly took this advice to heart until now.
Auditions are a chance to create art. We are bringing a playwright's words to life for a few short moments. Those words are traveling through my body and becoming a collaboration between playwright and actor. It's really a beautiful thing when you think about it.
So, today, I make a vow...I vow to stop taking auditions for granted. I will grow from these experiences no matter what. Whether a dream maker or a heat breaker...
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