Acting for Non-Actors

Is acting a valuable skill to non-actors? I think so, and to prove it just look at my website. Look to those who have the training, education and experience in theatre and do something else for a living. Is a salesman a better salesman who knows how to work an audience? A manager who can read his workers? A leader who exudes charisma and his or her people will follow gladly. Yes, there is value in teaching non-actors acting.

Professionals like attorneys and doctors need help with communicating. A writer may know how to write, but to sell his or her books, needs to know how to present a message in a dynamic way. This is what theatre does best. Who would deny the courtroom is a theatre? A lawyer must present a deposition, a statement or argument to the jury, and communicate it in such a way as to have credibility. Celeste Walker, a fine actress, director and theatre professor teaches attorneys acting.

Actor, director, and educator Celeste Walker is a consummate professional who brings over 25 years of experience to all the facets of her multifarious career. Comfortable and adroit at working with both young acting students and seasoned professionals, she is adept at bringing all she has learned to the task of discovering exactly what the individual student most needs to learn, and teaching it, not as dry academic discourse, but as a living, dynamic practice.

This is, of course, just one example. There are actors (and those similarly gifted in other areas of theatre) who apply their craft by teaching non-actors about what is applicable.

I admire those who have been able to ply their craft in ways that make them happy. I am finally able to do that myself, but I still have a mortgage to pay so I keep my government job; I even burden my family and my health doing what I can to contribute and participate in my theatre passion. There are so many talented individuals and so few opportunities that those in theatre must employ themselves in other ways to feed families and live the American dream.

There is a need for those theatre skills we have. Because of the stark reality, I even fought being a professional actor or director for a number of reasons, mostly financial insecurity. What can an actor, director or writer do who does not “work” in theatre do? I have to stick to the fields I mentioned because those are my particular areas, but there are many other specialties in theatre that can applied in other ways. For brevity’s sake, I’ll stick to what I know and my own experiences.

If you look at my website, you can see where I have focused on teaching business executives, teachers, trainers and other professionals how to work with an audience, how to move on a stage, and how to make training come alive for an audience. My focus: know your audience, know your subject, and know yourself. While I may not be the one who coaches actors (because I didn’t learn from the prestigious schools or study the many approaches in detail), I have found a niche that suits my background and talents. I take advantage of my “day” jobs that have been in related areas of communication like public affairs, public speaking, outreach, teaching, training, and customer service all of which I can pull from my acting repertoire of information and experiences and apply them. Can I “perform?” I can. Can I teach or train? Why not?

I am hoping to make enough money with my approach, and be happier than I’ve been in years because I can finally make the connections work together. My day job becomes my passion, albeit a bit modified, but life isn’t perfect. Who knows? Change and opportunity may be around the corner. In fact, I know it, but it’s not in stone so I don’t want to give it away.

I’m sure I covered this topic before in some way, but there is always that question looming from actors who are unsure of their commitment, and others who see the value in the acting lessons to be learned to take on life’s other jobs and pleasures. I am all of the above as I know many of my friends are. We love the theatre or we wouldn’t do it for free sometimes. Oh, we like it when we get paid for it, and it’s necessary when the “real” day job goes away.

The reality is that of the many talented people a few actually make a great living at acting. It is a job that depends on location, location, location, and opportunity as well as talent.  Being in the right place at the right time, being willing to do what it takes to have an opportunity, i.e., wait on tables, do any menial job you can quit at any time to take a part, or do something related that satisfies the urge. I found myself the master of avoiding the scarier aspects of not having security. Maybe it comes from an insecure childhood, not having a stable environment to fall back on, not having parents who could bail me out of economic disaster.

I couldn’t believe it even when I was “discovered” doing community theatre and offered a real job in professional theatre; I took the job, but gave it up in favor a more secure related job in radio. Later, I continued acting professionally in commercials and in plays when I could. For security’s sake, I still applied my communication skills in radio and in television–until I discovered those safer opportunities at my level didn’t pay well either–and finally the military and the federal government.

Today, I write, act and direct. Sometimes I get paid for it. This is one passion. My other passion is teaching others how good communication in the hands of anyone is a powerful tool. For this, I will be paid the most because it is business. This is pragmatic. Art, it seems, comes cheap–unless your name and the right connections can make it big business; that is the reality.

There are aspects of acting that are talked about in many other fields. An actor can sometimes make it more interesting by giving it a different perspective. It is my goal to prove that. This column, Acting Smarts, is one way of expressing my passion. I have another blog that talks about Training and Development. Please check it out. My hook: I am an actor, who has experience in the trenches of training and management, and I have acting insights in how to make your “Mission Impossible, An Affair to Remember.”

Catching Up with Some Personal Notes

An old headshot of mine, California-style from the eighties.

Before anyone gets any ideas, I have to tell you I like most music done well. I even like some Country, but wife, Amy, and son, Aidan, are the real fans. We all like Sugarland’s Jennifer Nettles. I still remember days going to classical concerts, even opera, and jazz clubs in days of old. I listen to 90.9 (National Public Radio), 92.5 (Country) and occasionally 98.1 (Oldies, but not too old), but mostly I listen to NPR. I was actually fascinated by a recent discussion and samples of Cajun music.

After being a DJ throughout college and listening all day long to top 40 whatever, you tend to drift to something else in your spare time. I went through an R&B stage, and knew enough about the music in telephone interview to be offered a job as a DJ at an all-Black radio station in Kansas City. The in-person interview was a hoot. The Station Manager couldn’t help laughing and called in his staff to meet Jack Shaw. Felt a little like Buddy Holly when he played at the Apollo, not knowing his audience. The Station Manager and I agreed I could definitely DJ, but personal appearances might be difficult–certainly unusual, but mutally decided it was a no-go. I probably could have made all kinds of discrimination complaints, but eveyone was so nice and respectful even though jaws dropped when I announced I was hoping to be the new afternoon DJ. (The interview was really more a meet-the-boss-before-you-start sort of thing.) I left smiling and I hope they were, too.

Here I am as "Candy" in a recent version OF MICE AND MEN in New Jersey.

As concerts go, I’m not the fan of raucus large crowds, which you tend to get at popular music concerts, although I do like to watch people.  I don’t get the rush some people get when their “star” walks on stage, or the “happy feet,” or feel like bumpin’ and swaying when the music starts. Guess I’m just not made that way. Probably would hurt my back, but I try to be respectful and at least I abandon my seat and stand there because it’s the only way to see what I paid to see. No offense to anyone that it thrills–just not my thing.

I like baseball, too, but I don’t like to go to the games like I used to–mostly because of all the people, the hassle of parking, and over-priced food.  Used to be a huge fan when I worked in radio and played the games on the weekends and was treated with free media passes for the Kansas City Royals, but today I find myself just too busy. But I do enjoy film and reading, more introverted stuff, I guess. I don’t hold it against you if sports is your thing; just don’t hold it against me that it’s not mine. Not now. I wrestled and ran track in High School, albeit not to stardom. I played some tennis in college for fun, not competition. I like the Olympics and seeing folks achieve personal bests. Maybe, that’s why following the big team sports aren’t my hobby. Maybe being a bit small made me only eligible for the sports I played, and disinterested in those in which I felt “discriminated” on the basis of size.

I still haven’t figured out if theatre audiences are mostly there in serious theatre to be intellectually stimulated or just be entertained. But there are always enigmas; I guess this is one for me.

I believe we should all go with our strengths, not dwell on our weakness in all things–including theatre. I’m officially a senior now, having lived more that half a century. I’ve worked to survive rather than love what I did for work, but now I want the passion to drive me. I find most things interesting for awhile. Theatre, public speaking, interpersonal communication, training and development, and psychology have hung in there, and are so incredibly linked to my life. I am faced with some incredibly hard decisions if I have to change what it is I do in my life because all things are important. I no longer am the Performance Examiner for the Wilmington Examiner; that decision came easy since I didn’t live there but was trying to localize stories, which is easy to do with peformance in general. Frankly, it was taking too much time I wanted to devote to family, and pursuing my efforts to embrace a new career in coaching business and nonprofit professionals in the art of public speaking as well as pursue my theatre blog and columnist role with STAGE Magazine.

On a slightly different note, I have started to make in-roads with potential gigs, partners, and even adjunct teaching. I still act occasionally and I hope to be moving back into directing shortly–one of my favorite projects in the offing.

THE DROWSY CHAPERONE at HPP is Fantastically Magic or Magically Fantastic

Large scale musicals generally make me groan. You have play the stage just right, move people around without bumping into each other, and still have room to dance and otherwise perform. I couldn’t have groaned if I wanted to I was so busy laughing.

If you missed THE DROWSY CHAPERONE at Haddonfield Plays and Players tonight, you missed the magic of musical theatre. I could start laughing at any moment just thinking of any single moment in the show. This comedy musical (and yes I said it that way on purpose) has no comparison to any large musical in my recent viewing history. I thoroughly enjoyed my musical theatre experience of 1928 mixed with today’s commentary by The Man in the Chair.

This rip-roaring 1920s-style musical is filled with the Vaudevillian comic bits that have become classics. You know the ones so well that you can finish the bit yourself. Still, we laughed until there were tears, and were wowed again with another dance number. It was magical then in that age; it is magical now.

The storyline in musicals then was simply to set up elaborate song and dance numbers. In a typical story, a situation arises that seems like a crisis to characters on stage and, of course, it is resolved in the end. Forget that the plots didn’t make sense. They weren’t meant to have any resemblance to reality anyway. The story was a gap filler as were the comedy bits between the larger acts. Still, we loved the fantasy place it took us with the bigger-than-life actors, acting badly or badly acting.  Usually both, but that was the way it was. Now we have TV, and sometimes that’s not nearly as entertaining.  Well, maybe reality TV.  Kidding.

The direction was super and considering the director, Craig Hutchings, played a fantastic character role as well–that’s just amazing.  I’m sure Craig won’t mind if I say everyone gave a performance of a lifetime.  The acting, singing, dancing and the music that came from the wings was all excellent. The performance was a true demonstration of what musical theatre can do.

Michael Hicks was totally believable as The Man in the Chair who wants to get rid of the blues by playing his favorite musical soundtrack from 1928–a show called THE DROWSY CHAPERONE.  As he shares it with us with such lovely zeal, the stage suddenly comes alive with the players acting, singing, and dancing the numbers in his living room–right down to the record skips and stops. In between the grand numbers, there are the comedy bits–ridiculous and predictable–yet hilarious nonetheless.

The play isn’t about The Man in the Chair, not really, but about us and our affection, better make that adoration, for the musicals we fashioned in the past.  The music and choreography was terrific here as well as every individual number. I won’t talk about standouts here because everyone was great. As near a perfect cast as a director could find, but you know it wasn’t so; it just seemed that way. There were of course talented major players, to be sure, but when a show goes so well you don’t want to set anyone a part.

I like it when I am so pleasantly surprised–when my preconceived notions (like big musicals) are shattered and I am moved to laugh.  Did I mention there was a rare well-earned standing ovation?  Bravo!  If you saw my Acting Smarts post urging you to see this show and you don’t, you’ll wish you had!

I hope this gets posted in time for you to see it and take yourself out to the theater for a real treat.

That’s my told you so.

Don’t Miss THE DROWSY CHAPERONE–A Very Different Comedy Musical

Sometimes it pays to be direct. And yes, I said it. “Comedy Musical.” I said it that way because it seems that is the moniker it most splendidly deserves, rather than the other way around. I like unusual musicals. If you are going to do an homage to jazz musicals of a vaudevillian tone, you start with comedy. The idea is to examine the effects that musicals have on their fans. Besides, what else could it be when the main character is a “The Man in the Chair” who has the fondest memories of days long gone by so he re-plays it for us with comic results. He is trying to cure his “non-specific sadness,” by listening to a recording of a fictional 1928 musical comedy, The Drowsy Chaperone. As he listens to this rare recording, he is transported as are we into the musical. The characters and musical numbers come alive in his apartment. It sounds like too much fun.

THE DROWSY CHAPERONE is a comedy/musical with book by Bob Martin and Don McKellar and music and lyrics by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison. Winning a Tony for Best Book and Best Score, it began as a spoof of old musicals written by friends of Bob and Janet Martin for their wedding. It was quite successful on Broadway, but didn’t see near the success in the West End. It could be it’s because “the musical” is very American; ironically, as I said this is not your typical musical.

Craig Hutchings directs the show for Haddonfield Plays and Players, and he also plays a character, sings and dances, etc., etc., etc.–well, you know how it goes sometimes. But it couldn’t happen to a nicer and more talented guy. He also directed the much acclaimed SEUSSICAL THE MUSICAL with much success.

I had a chance to talk with Craig today about the show. It seems the theatre is not sold out. It should be with all the talent crammed into this show. I know the names, but I won’t go into them now. So many theaters, so many shows in our densely populated area. This show never got a review, or a human interest story, or a controversial article, or an interview. So, I guess, it’s like the clichéd tree falling in the forest; nobody hears it. This is one show I have missed so far in its run. Sometimes life is hectic.

Rumor has it from my theatre and non-theatre friends that this is one hysterical show. This is the last weekend. Why not see for yourself? I won’t miss it. If I had, I could have written a review–and I wish I had. Missing art is like missing a life–an extraordinary life. Knowing Craig to be the consummate performer and director, this show shouldn’t be missed by anyone.

Stephen Sondheim, the man who found his heart in the non-traditional musical, wrote that the days of the traditional musical is over–or words to that effect, and that is true here, too. The trick with any non-traditional musical is to tie the songs together. Often they are sung through with the songs sung through without words in between as in SEUSSICAL and THE LAST FIVE YEARS, or in this case, they are tied together by THE DROWSY CHAPERONE. Let’s all yearn for yesteryear together. Of course, my parents were barely thought of in 1928, and neither was I, but to live and dream and experience the music that lived then has to be fantastical.

Hysterical COOLERS in Collingswood

I had fun tonight. There were moments I was filled with hysterical and historical laughter—if that’s even possible. I found myself laughing with many other audience members at the jokes and bits from Vaudeville long before my time and at jokes so old they shouldn’t have been funny today. And, yet they were. New jokes and bits propelled the play along at a breathtaking pace.

It's prohibition, and nothing like a little libation to make a bad show feel better to the actors in the new play, COOLERS.

I just saw COOLERS, an Imagination Creation, in conjunction with The Perkins Center of the Arts and Bravo Entertainment production of an original comedy with music, at The Perkins Center for the Arts in Collingswood, NJ, and enjoyed it immensely.

COOLERS is advertised as “a valentine to the days of Vaudeville and to the entertainers who kept all of America singing and laughing into a new century!” It certainly is that. Local playwright Alex Wilkie created an enormously entertaining play with delightful characters, while he plays tribute to the glory and decline of Vaudeville days and remembers the troupers—some of whom were quite the performers as well.

“Coolers,” if you didn’t know, is the name that was given to the vaudeville performers who kept the audience entertained while the movie projectors cooled and new movie reels could be loaded.

Chuck Gill, who produced and directed the show, put together a true ensemble production. He also gave us some unusual but effective staging like keeping the entire cast on stage most of the time, giving us almost a chorus line effect. That only added to the chaos and delight. When the individual acts start rehearsing on their own, we are treated to stronger reminders of how good these acts could be, and that they weren’t as bad as they thought they were. When characters dialogued, you heard their personal stories.

I like plays with heart–plays that are more than a vehicle for catchy tunes and this is one. COOLERS was well performed from “Bill’s” gruff opening to the play’s final heartfelt song that seemed genuinely shared with the audience. Without gushing, I can say I enjoyed each individual performance of each distinct character. I know Melissa Connell is capable of fine singing because I have heard her sing in other shows so I was naturally impressed when she faked not being able to sing. That’s harder to do than you think.

I could easily mention every single performance as a standout performance and not be exaggerating. Alex Wilkie’s characters are also stars. They seem real, as if based on real vaudevillian performers, and if they aren’t, he did as great a job creating them as the actors did bringing them to life.

Generally, crowded stages bother me, but it seemed here that it was intentional. I would have liked a larger stage for the actors rather than few actors on stage to give them room for their own individual and special moments, but that’s me and my style of directing.  And, I grant you it is easier to cut down on actors than make a bigger stage, but here the actors deserved it, impossible though it would be.

Chuck Gill did a terrific job of directing an original play in conjunction with the writer in untested venue as well. Kudos also to the rest of the production staff that included Andre Vermeulen, the Music Director, Travis Lawrence, the Technical Director, Jeff Bettencourt, Lighting Design, Jason Gonserkevis, Sound Design, Frank Caputo for Props and Rob Paluso for Costumes.

This was the first play performed in the Loft of the Perkins Center for the Arts this year and should it prove successful, I’m sure there will be others. In my mind it was successful. The usual theater amenities are lacking at this point but with such a good show, the audience is forgiving. The stage could have been higher or the seats elevated in the back, but when you’re new, resources are an issue and you don’t have the luxury of having a complete set of dinnerware—if you get my drift. And, in many ways, it was a test to see if an audience would come. Those amenities will come in time. Meanwhile, the space is flexible and all a theatre company really needs is an audience.

For actors: Plays have been written about how much “fun” doing a local original play can be, but most of the time it really is a great experience for everyone involved. I was in a play called PLAY ON! in which the playwright kept changing the play at the last minute.  The result:  great fun for the audience (which was the idea), and not so much for the “cast” and “crew” in the play within the play (but the actors and crew loved it).  Moreover, I’ve seen the benefits of such a creative collaboration when artists have their heads together.  I’ve performed in three original plays and they become a special part of your acting resume and your repertoire of plays you want to direct someday. Acting or directing a show is a creative process all by itself. Add in working with the playwright, hearing from him or her about the intent of this or that scene, understanding the play directly from his or her point of view is a learning experience every performer should have.

I admit it makes me nervous to be part of a brand new untested play, but after having done it, I even have the courage to take a failed play, discover what made it fail, correct those mistakes and make it work the way it should. I will also admit that I sit in the theatre when an original play is being presented, as I did with this one, and wonder if it’s going to measure up to the standards of plays I know have stood the test.

For COOLERS:  Is the writing worthy of an audience, or does the audience have to forgive too much, or must the actors become the creators of more than their own characters? This play is excellent; it gets a very good grade from me, for what it’s worth, and passes the test.  The play has a few days left in its short run:  March 5, 11th and 12th.  I hope you get to see it.  For more on theatre reviews, including this one, and other theatre topics, check out Acting Smarts at STAGE MAGAZINE and become a subscriber.

Organic vs Regular–The Difference Has Its Place

It’s not like Decaf and regular coffee.  Blocking on stage works, but there are choices and a good director has to decide when to make them.  This is a simple explanation of what I mean.

How do we decide where to move on stage? The director tells us where to go, but how is that decided? Some directors plan out or block out every move, some directors (and actors, too) follow the “book” directions, and both may do what is known as “organic blocking,” to figure out potential blocking on their own if they know the set.

So what do you prefer to do as an actor? To be told where and when to move and motivate your move once you get there, or to feel motivated to move somewhere because of the action of the scene?

If it seems I am slanted somewhat in my belief, you are correct. I like organic blocking for most shows—not all shows, mind you. Some shows lend themselves very well to the organic treatment while others do not. Straight dramas and most romantic comedies do.

Physical comedies or farces may require very specific movements, and therefore, do not in most cases. Plays like NOISES OFF or BLACK COMEDY that require someone to be in a particular spot at a precise moment would not be a good candidate for organic blocking–at least part of the time.  Of course, there may be portions of the play where it is possible and workable.

I just read a scene from David Ives’ ALL IN THE TIMING, and the blocking has to be pretty much choreographed for the scene to work as the author intended, so there is no other way to do the blocking. It works for this play as it does for countless others.  That’s not necessarily a bad thing.

There are as many different kind of actors as there are different kinds of theatre.  I auditioned a group for BLACK COMEDY and, at the last minute, we were “blacked-out” because the show was playing in Denver.  We had to pick another show that sounded somewhat the same.  I picked a play called ROMANTIC COMEDY.  Only one person who auditioned for BLACK COMEDY was the type of actor who could play ROMANTIC COMEDY as easily.  It was unusual, but she was older with a lot of experience; the other actors more specialized in physical performance.

Musicals are an obvious choice in the regular category since the stage has to be ready for the choreography.

It’s not the difference between Decaf and Regular coffee.  There is a difference, yes.  But it is a difference that has its place.

Organic blocking, for me, it seems to work well with heavy emotion and characterization so plays that require that gain from movement that is motivated in the beginning. The push and pull of relationships, and the struggle for power or dominance can play out physically and may be a good time to organically block the scene. Again, that is not to say you can’t do it in reverse.

And, there is movement that simply doesn’t fit the staging or the director’s vision. Organic blocking has to be tweaked just as blocking that is pre-planned and set may be adjusted once an actor is physically performing.

More recently, working on a ¾ thrust stage, the director let the actors rely on their stage experience to direct their own movements in relation to other actors during the scenes since the audience was all around them except upstage. Trust on both the part of the actors and the director was an important factor, but it worked well.

The actors enjoyed the experience, and the result, I think, was dynamic. At first, it was a difficult process because nothing was set, but in the end, actors felt right in certain areas, scenes were strong when actors found themselves where they needed to be. It became consistent from performance to performance. The process was rewarding nonetheless.

Back to the original question: Which do you prefer? A director to tell you where to go (regular blocking), or “tell” yourself where to move motivated by the scene itself (organic blocking)? And, of course, why?

I welcome opposing views and comments as well so please join in the conversation whatever you think.

Probing Character

You hear a lot about the different schools of acting and that this is where you find the characters for your part in the play and give them the intensity of real life. The most influential acting teachers, including Ryszard Bolesławski, Vsevolod Meyerhold, Michael Chekhov, Lee Strasberg, Stella Adler, Harold Clurman, Robert Lewis, Sanford Meisner, Uta Hagen, Ion Cojar and Ivana Chubbuck all traced their pedigrees to Stanislavski, his theories and/or his disciples.

I don’t consider myself an actor, via method, Stanislavski nor Meisner, or via improvisation although I have read the books. For most actors, these methods are fine in themselves. My acting teacher said to do what works. Ironically, my psychology teacher said the same thing when dealing with mental illness. “Do what works!”

Using any or all techniques, or in any combination, is a good way to learn how to act. As an acting coach and as an actor, I use a combination myself, I think—some of it pure psychology. How would a real person (this character) act in a given situation, and what did the playwright believe? What works for the play’s message to be enhanced or feel its impact? I teach a combination of methods or techniques, depending on the student and what works for them. I never have believed in only one approach.

I look at a character’s reason for being in the play. In this play–which is a very literary one, if you haven’t already figured it out–my character mirrors the main characters’ dreams and realities. My character provides proof that reality is more likely to prevail than the dream, but assures us that it is the human spirit to hope. My dog, old and used, “no good to himself or nobody,” is better off dead. The same can be said for my character, but that’s the dilemma.

Sometimes a play holds a mirror to life; sometimes a play doesn’t look anything like that and still holds a mirror to life. It’s like casting against type or writing science fiction or fantasy. The idea is make your audience not pre-judge. It already knows the world, but seeing it displayed in a way that is against expectation (against type) or reality (fantasy).

Case in point is a not-very-well-received play by Arthur Miller, CREATION OF THE WORLD AND OTHER BUSINESS. The audience is too busy arguing with images of God, Lucifer, Adam and Eve, etc., and assuming the play is to denigrate its religion or belief system to see the play isn’t about religion as we know it as individuals, but as the world knows it. The play lasted 21 previews and 20 performances on Broadway.

Although not considered one of Miller’s best, CREATION has gotten more attention, acclaim even, in recent productions when directors tried to find ways to separate the audience from its own reality and the show’s reality. To me, it is a perfect challenge to a director and I’m up for it, but that’s another story.

Your audience is more likely to get the message if they aren’t arguing the reality. Are the people who see this play likely to have the same “life” as the characters in this play? Not likely. Is the audience able to identify with the characters in the play and feel for the characters in the play? Of course, the characters are usually human. If the characters are not (as in SEUSSICAL and CATS), they still exhibit human traits. We identify with those traits in whatever body or form they take as human traits–at least subconsciously. An audience should identify with the characters from the playwright’s words in the play, and from the actors’ actions on stage that makes them live.

Reading the history and analysis of the play by others as well as the director’s advice, insight and vision will help an actor develop a character. Knowing the history in which the play was written, what critics have said of a play—not necessarily of the performance—although much can be learned what the critic says about the playwright’s intention and its realization on stage.

On Performance Reviewing…

Some theaters want reviews, some do not. I find this perplexing for the following reasons:

• A show that disappoints, given the critic’s perspective, is better off than the show that disappoints without benefit of someone who knows what a theatre has to go through to put on a show
• A show that turns out great gets the best publicity in the world–an educated opinion to educate consumers.
• A show that is experimental in nature or on an unusual topic gets a perspective to bring the right audience to see it.
• Reviewers can sell a show or close it if readers trust and identify with the writer.

It seems to me it would be better to have several different reviewers than just one, and therefore, different perspectives. But then I believe reviewers help theatre rather than do it harm. I think even pre-show reviewers are a good idea–if timely enough.

Writing about theatre performance is different from other subjects people normally write and comment about such as sports and news. It could be just our devotion to art and education–or because we write about theatre’s very nature to communicate that makes us different. We are a “Consumer Report” for the arts, backing claims of excellence, reporting quality and giving perspective so an audience member knows what they might like to see or miss.

Note. The purpose of this piece is not to debate the question of whether we should we review community theatre; simply put, a good reviewer, in my opinion, makes the distinction. It is a fact among many to consider when reviewing. I’ll save that larger discussion for another time, but please feel free to give your views on the subject at any time.

For now I ‘d like to comment other aspects of reviewing theatre.

Most performance reviewers do it because they love the art. In the nicer term, we are reviewers; in a harsher term for some, critics and “what do we know?” I am also an admirer of art, a worshiper of beauty. I appreciate talent and venerate creativity. Is that so bad?

Some professional reviewers are former performers themselves, theatre aficionados, or writers wanting to write about something–anything. The last one can be a problem.

I went to school with writers who wanted to be theatre and film reviewers, and since I was involved in theatre and they weren’t, I had to ask “why.”

Well, it wasn’t exactly what they wanted to do, they said, but it would do until they could get their humor column going…and in syndication. I guess to them being a reviewer is like a columnist in training. At least, it is something like being a columnist, but easier, since someone gives you the topic and you write your reactions down.

Believe me, it’s not that simple.

Writing with a certain style or flair for the dramatic can be entertainment, but it should also communicate some truth.

Reviewing is also not just a synopsis or a promotion. True, a synopsis may be important to give the audience perspective, and a review can be a promotion. Telling a potential audience members everything is wonderful serves no useful purpose other than to promote the current show. If it is not put in perspective, the audience sees flaws in the review, and they are disappointed. Your readers won’t trust you next time and may not come back to the theater. Write an feature article about the show beforehand that focuses on some aspect of the show that makes it different from other theaters that have performed this show.

A show can be entertaining without being art. It can have weak points but soar to great heights elsewhere. Since every audience is different, most actors agree, every performance is different, too. Every review should be different and I don’t think they should be used just to promote, nor should they be used to dissuade people from seeing a show.

I’ve seen shows that thrilled and ones that disappointed. So have you.

So, what should a reviewer be? Fair, honest, intelligent, knowledgeable, artistic? Probably, all these things. Ethical? Above all.

To me, it is simply not being totally upfront and honest with your audience. I thought once that you shouldn’t take an active part in a theatrical show if you wrote reviews about the theater. You could do one or the other, but not both. Does that mean you can’t be a part of the theater community and still review fairly? Can you give a great review to a play that doesn’t deserve it, harkening back to the days of “payola” in the early days of records? You could, but other people saw it. Someone could say you weren’t being honest.

In this area, there are over 90 theaters within a hours drive. Pretty easy to be involved in the theatre community and do both. It keeps you fresh. Still, I never review a play I auditioned for. I know in my heart that I could still give that play a fair review. I could control my “sour grapes” attitude. Of course, I could. I’m an honest guy. But someone else might not think so, and why go there if you don’t have to?

On the other hand, is it fair to review a play in a theater where I’ve performed or directed before? I say, “yes,” without hesitation. There is one advantage; I know the theater/theatre—its pluses and minuses. Unfortunately, I’ll also know the potential or opportunities missed in the theater environment, but if I’m honest, I say that at the outset. After all it is all about perception and my perspective.

Would you want reviewers who are not part of the active theater community?

I actually went to school to be a reviewer/critic, not an actor or a director, but I have acted and directed here and elsewhere, professionally and as a volunteer. My education, if anything, makes me think about my responsibilities as a critic, but my experience makes me see the value of being in the actor or director’s place. I don’t expect perfection, but I want good theater–true to the playwright’s intention. I want scenes to work on stage and the audience to not be bored. I want something to come from it; I want to be moved to appreciate it.

A note to all theatrical artists: The reviewers, who review your show, will probably love it. They want to love it. Face it. You are a great director, great designer, or a great performer, and I am a great fan. Do yourself proud. You perform because it’s fun–not because it’s art, while I review plays so others may love the performance as you and I do.

An Actor Devouring Characters’ Lives

So what happens when you cancel a much-needed rehearsal? We are rescheduled for two run-thru rehearsals on Sunday, plus tech. Ought to be a fun day. Guess I’ll bring Wings and/or Sushi to share. Odd choice I know, but you’d be surprised who eats what. I like both.

While I’m talking about eating, let’s talk about how acting is like devouring other people’s lives, their characters–an accepted form of cannibalism–in the theatre.

I thought I’d write a bit on characterization and memorization—definitely an important part of theatre. In order to do these things, the actor must devour the script and, if he is to find his character, he must devour the lives created by the playwright. Not everyone finds his or her character the same way. For some, it’s lines first, then character. For some, they’ll get the character and paraphrase and substitute lines and go back later to correct—if they can. I memorize my lines in character.

There are a variety of memorization techniques that actors use, but for me the character is an important part of my memorization technique. For some actors, mere repetition of the same words through the course of several rehearsals will work. It usually works for me. Want to mess up the process? Go out of sequence, interrupt scenes with direction, start and stop scenes, etc. We are, after all, creatures of habit.

While some actors memorize as soon as they get the book, I don’t like to do that. I prefer to memorize my “action,” which involves my movements and locations on stage. This works especially well when all the actors are present and the blocking is set rather early. Some actors memorize by recording all the characters parts they will interact with and going over it and over it in the car on their way to work. An IPod works well for that, although I’m sure the traffic police would be too crazy about it.

I tried memorizing from a CD once and it didn’t work well for me, although just going through my lines in order in the car did help; it just took an extra step of noting where the cue lines came in. Some actors find writing their lines over and over works for them. If I have to memorize a traditional way, I cover and slide over lines as I repeat them until I get them smooth. Not my favorite way of memorizing lines for a play, but when the rehearsal method doesn’t work, you still have to get the job done.

You hear a lot about the different schools of acting and that this is where you find the characters for your part in the play and give them the intensity of real life. I don’t consider myself an actor, via method, Stanislavski nor Meisner, or via improvisation although I have read the books. For most actors, these methods are fine in themselves. My acting teacher said to do what works. Ironically, my psychology teacher said the same thing when dealing with mental illness. “Do what works!”

Any or all in any combination is a good way to learn how to act. As an acting coach and as an actor, I use a combination myself, I think—some of it pure psychology. How would a real person (this character) act in a given situation, and what did the playwright believe? What works for the play’s message to be enhanced or feel its impact? I teach a combination of methods or techniques, depending on the student and what works for them. I never have believed in only one approach.

I look at a character’s reason for being in the play. In this play–which is a very literary one, if you haven’t already figured it out–my character mirrors the main characters’ dreams and reality. My character provides hope and at the same time provides proof the reality is more likely to be than the dream. My dog, old and used, “no good to himself or nobody,” is better off dead. The same can be said for my character, but that’s the dilemma.

Sometimes a play holds a mirror to life; sometimes a play doesn’t look anything like that and still holds a mirror to life. It’s like casting against type or writing science fiction or fantasy. The idea is make your audience not pre-judge. It already knows the world, but seeing it displayed in a way that is against expectation (against type) or (real life).

Case in point is a not-very-well-received play by Arthur Miller, CREATION OF THE WORLD AND OTHER BUSINESS. The audience is too busy arguing with images of God, Lucifer, Adam and Eve, etc., and assuming the play is to denigrate its religion or belief system to see the play isn’t about religion as we know it as individuals, but as the world knows it. The play lasted 27 performances on Broadway.

Not considered one of Miller’s best, but it has gotten more attention, acclaim even, in recent productions when directors tried to find ways to separate the audience from its reality and the show’s reality. To me, it is a perfect challenge to a director and I’m up for it, but that’s another story.

Your audience is more likely to get the message if they aren’t arguing the reality. Are the people who see this play likely to have the same “life” as the characters in this play? Not likely. Is the audience able to identify with the characters in the play and feel for the characters in the play? Of course, the characters are usually human. If the characters are not (as in SUESSICAL and CATS), they still exhibit human traits.  We identify with those traits in whatever body or form they take as human traits–at least subconsciously.  An audience should identify with the characters from playwright’s words in the play, and from the actors’ actions on stage that makes them live.

Reading the history and analysis of the play by others as well as the director’s advice, insight and vision will help an actor develop a character. Knowing the history in which the play was written, what critics have said of a play—not necessarily of the performance—although much can be learned what the critic says about the playwright’s intention and its realization on stage.

A Performer’s Unrequited Love

This is will be an unusual post in that I am I being an introspective performer, rather than the critic or commentator today.  Maybe it is because I am performing again that I recall these feelings.  This is a love story of sorts, of identifying and defining who one is. The Philadelphia area’s love of the performing arts is well-known, but does anyone really think of what motivates the dedicated performer.

It’s a rare love of the art that lasts a lifetime of rejections, breakups, emotional ups and downs, and even personality conflicts.  Still, to be acting, dancing or singing in something anywhere really, the performer is happy.  The venue could be more impressive, but the love of the art is not affected by the venue.  New York’s Broadway or London’s West End would be wonderful but the degree of happiness for being able to perform would still be the same.

Performers fascinate me because they have a love of art that involves all the people in the world, all the cultures, all the history, all the drama and music.  All these elements are necessary to define who they are and wish to be forever.  Does a performer ever stop being a performer—even when they are too old to perform?  I think, never in their heart.  They do other things—related artistic things; and they dream.  Dreams are not far removed from theatre.  And, the love of art remains.

It is the expressing the love of art that is so intrinsically human and so connected to the individual.  There exists perpetually the proud desire to share, an urge so strong that he or she must do it now and often.  This should be a cause for wonder, not worry.  This is a performer.

The following is a portrait of young performer.  By young, I mean younger than 20, but I’m not sure.  It was posted by a Facebook friend and I wanted to respond to the sentiments.

• I live for theatre and I need theatre to live.
• I have yet to encounter a problem that a musical couldn’t solve.
• I fully believe that my expectations of men are so high because of musicals. I’ve grown up with the leading man having to woo his love and I’m afraid no man will ever live up to that.
• The majority of my friends are between 5-20 years older than me.
• I’m judged all the time because of this but I don’t care at all.
• I haven’t really gotten to see my family since last September and I miss hanging out with Miss L.
• Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like without theatre in it and then I shed a tear and change the subject.

There were actually ten things my friend listed to describe herself.  I left out the first three things she said that were personal and had nothing to do with theatre, but the rest are genuine.  I know because I found myself feeling the same way—except the age thing and I felt that when I was her age.  I still feel a difference exists between me and the “normal” folks, and I am always glad to welcome another genuine one of “me” to the club.

Couldn’t believe someone thought I was “artsy;” I just thought I was a writer of sorts.

• Do I live for theatre?  Theatre makes me feel alive.  Actors are often said to pretend to create a make-believe world, but the opposite is true.  The characters live inside them, so at the moment that’s twice as much life.  At least. There is no other way of describing it.
• Have I found a problem a musical or the theatre couldn’t solve?  Better make that just connected to a show, musical or not.  Sometimes just thinking about theatre makes the world better…
• What expectations do I have of women?  In a relationship?  Romantic, of course.  Unreal at times.  That no one ever lives up to an ideal was hard to accept.  Still, it took me a long time to see the reality in myself and others in general, and not to expect to see the same simplicity of character created on stage.
• If you are a romantic in the real world today, you can expect to be perceived as naïve. People and life are more complicated.  Theatre can only touch the surface.  I look at life as a model for theatre and art—those things being easier for me to read.
• I miss spending time my family when I am away and want them to understand the affinity I feel with the theatre. But like my friend above, I miss “hanging out” with my theatre family because it is with them that I am truly appreciated to view the world in the same way—subject matter for my canvas or stage.

I am forever visiting and observing the real world in preparation for the film or theatrical version—a simpler, more concrete and accessible rendition.

What would my life be without theatre in it?  A little empty perhaps.  This is the romantic “me.” There is a pragmatic “me” who wrote this article with the help of an inspired performer.  She forced it out of me. Now, I’m changing the subject.  Life as a performer is hard.  It requires dedication.  And love.