Master Classes in Speaking Shakespeare, Self-Producing, Monologue Technique (and more!)

We're excited to announce that we're hosting a series of Master Classes February 13-20, 2017! All workshops are $39 are are designed to help and other artists learn valuable skills in the acting craft, the business of acting, and the art of theater-making!

Click here to learn more and to sign up.

You can also get 5 classes by signing up for the VIP Class Pass - it's just $149! Here are the classes you can choose from:

The week then culminates with our famous meet & greet event, the Actor/Industry Scramble, on February 20 for just $59. All proceeds go to benefit the ensemble and programming of The Seeing Place Theater.

See all of the classes being taught, and SIGN UP here: https://squareup.com/store/TheSeeingPlace

We look forward to seeing you there!

Zounds! Shakespearean Imagery Is A Killer

Imagery seems to be the most difficult thing for the modern actor.  We don't tend to speak in images anymore.  I can say "Grand Canyon" and you know what I mean.  You've seen it in Thelma and Louise or in a calendar or some such thing.  But in Shakespeare's day, people needed imagery to understand things beyond themselves.  Most people also didn't know how to read and write.  Language was primarily heard - and it was in flux.  Shakespeare created over 2000 words.  People had a real love of language.  And so, it is necessary to develop a love for Shakespeare's words - not a masturbatory love, but a real need for the words you are given to express your ideas.

We tend to learn the dictionary definition of Shakespeare's words, get a sense of the lines paraphrased, and call it a day.  But there is so much more.  First of all, the words and thoughts have to hold some kind of personal meaning for you.  None of us can afford to let the lines do our work for us.  The lines don't mean anything on their own.  Words on a page are just that.  It takes the actor to interpret them and infuse them with meaning.  Much as people would like to believe that Shakespeare had no subtext, there is always room for interpretation.  By "interpretation", I do not mean to support Concept-Driven Shakespeare (see below).  All I mean to suggest is that it is quite impossible for any human being to express everything that is going on in every moment.

Does that mean it's necessary to take huge pauses for thought?  Definitely not.  It is suggested that people spoke much more quickly in Shakespeare's day - and they would have to in order for ROMEO AND JULIET to be the two-hours' traffic of anyone's stage.  So, it is necessary in the style of Shakespeare's writing for people to "think on the line" - which basically means that you can't take the time to think about what you're going to say before you say it.  But that's a style, just as much as Chekhov's plays call for a heightened comic realism.

With all of that said, it's important to keep in mind that there is no correct way of saying lines.  The words will necessarily mean different things coming from different actors.  Shakespeare wrote for a specific group of players.  Chances are, you are not 100% what he had in mind.  As such, we cannot get caught up in thinking that there's a right way and a wrong way.  We all have to let our own discretion be our tutor.

Now that we've sussed out the meanings of the words, we need to attend to the Heightened Language.  We have to understand how the language operates in creation of ideas.  If I am speaking metaphorically, I actually need to create the metaphor.  The hidden meaning will not express itself of its own volition.  You can't say something like, "Your mind is tossing on the ocean," without being aware of the ocean.  It's not a colloquial way to say something.  And so you can't say it as though it's just an ordinary way of speaking.  Try it - it will seem silly.  That said, some balance is necessary.  Just because something is poetical does not mean it needs to become poetry - nor do these things need to be acted out or you'll insult your audience.  But you do need to actually create the image.  

It seems that every time I go see a Shakespearean play, I get one of three things.
1.)  A group of people that seem to be channeling Keanu Reeves in an attempt to sound "natural"
2.)  What seems to be the bad-karaoke version of Shakespeare, where people seem to be doing the equivalent of singing along to their favorite Shakespearean character - without allowing it to come from them.
3.)  A mouthful of emoted words in the stylings we would expect to have seen on the renaissance stage.

Rarely, if ever, are any of these actors grounded in the reality of the circumstances of the play or the individual character's intentions.  I think that we can all agree that the first two are just bad acting.  But the third seems to have become an epidemic in our theater.  These actors seem to think that if they speak with gusto, their passion will out.  But in reality, they are "tearing a passion to tatters, to very rags".

No amount of impassioned speaking will create circumstances for us.  We don't need to know how the words make you feel.  Taking our cues from life, only actors try to sound sad or drunk or angry, etc.  Real people try to keep their emotions out of their speech.  In times of great difficulty, real people try their best to communicate.  So should we - especially in Shakespeare.  For some reason, people seem to throw all concepts of acting out the window when it comes to performing in a Shakespearean play - in fact, it applies to classical theatre in general (not to mention musicals), but that's a subject for another day.

I mentioned Concept-Driven Shakespeare earlier.  I'm sure you basically understand the idea.  I've seen things anywhere from HAMLET: 2001, A SPACE ODYSSEY to ROMEO AND JULIET in a mental institution.  But my real meaning applies less to productions than it does to actors.  We play these roles that everyone has seen.  They are standard.  And there is a tendency for people to decide to come up with their take on the role, to do something interesting with it.  I promise you that their is nothing more interesting than your individual humanity.  Shakespeare wrote living people.  And so it is necessary to let these characters resonate with you.

In the last part of this series as we inch closer to opening our productions of HAMLET and R&G ARE DEAD, we'll go into some of the hidden stage directions in Shakespeare's verse, as well as some basic rules that can clear up your communication quickly and easily.  For the first part in this series, please click here:  Shakespeare CAN Be Understood - And How

We'd love to hear your thoughts and questions.  Please don't be silent.  Leave a comment.  Let's get a conversation going!

Shakespeare CAN Be Understood - and How

You know that bad feeling you get deep down in your gut right before you see a Shakespeare play?  Be honest.

Even if you're a Shakespeare lover, there's always a worry that you won't be able to understand what's being said - and even if you DO understand the text, will you be able to understand these actors?

John Barton (a very important Shakespearean dramaturg) claims that he doesn't really listen to what's being said unless the actors MAKE him listen.  Otherwise, he only gets the most general sense of the lines.  I imagine that many of us share the same difficulty.  Personally, I notice that I easily tune out when it comes to seeing one of Shakespeare's plays performed.  I know many people who have given up on his work entirely.

Essentially, our society come to expect that we won't be able to relate to the actors in a Shakespearean play.  It seems standard for Shakespeare to be performed in heightened acting styles of yesteryear and weird Mid-Atlantic dialects - when in fact Shakespeare's own advice to the players argues that we have to speak to "the very age and body of the time".  First, we have a current tradition of conversational life onstage and a different type of audience than in the year 1600 - both of which need to be taken into consideration.  Additionally, JULIUS CAESAR was initially played in Elizabethan Garb with elements of Roman dress; the Danish countryside in HAMLET more closely resembled Warwickshire than Denmark; and in ROMEO AND JULIET, the households were more specific to English life than that of the Italians.  Lastly, the Original Pronunciation of Shakespeare's text was much closer to the American sound than the current English sound.

I'd like to offer one small piece of overlooked wisdom when it comes to performing in one of Shakespeare's plays: he wrote them in English.  So, you don't need to approach them as though they are in a foreign language.  The audience doesn't need big gestures to understand what's going on.  Yes, there are some big words, but for the most part, his plays are written in the basic syntax of naturalistic speech.  No writer writes exactly the way that people talk - and there are so many vernacular variations that it would be impossible to undertake such a task.  There are plenty of modern writers whose plays that are written in a strange and rhythmic manner.  See Mamet, Letts, Lonergan, and just about anyone else you can name.  None of these people sounds just like you.

But what's so crazy about Shakespeare's language?

"The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers." - HENRY VI, Part II
"To be, or not to be: that is the question:" - HAMLET
"What's in a name?  - ROMEO & JULIET

Any of the above quotes could easily be said in a modern-day play.  As wonderful of a writer as he may have been, Shakespeare was the least poetic playwright of his day.  His writing is character driven and full of intention.  It was meant to be acted, not read.  He wrote living people.  As has been stated by many scholars:  Shakespeare was the first naturalistic playwright.  And that essentially means that he created the concept of naturalistic acting.

Shakespeare wrote in three kinds of speech: 

Prose - The most commonly used form in playwrighting today. 

Blank Verse (or Iambic Pentameter) - Still the closest verse form to everyday speech, created by Shakespeare.  Blank verse has ten syllables per line, typically with alternating strong and weak stresses: de DUM de DUM de DUM de DUM de DUM.  You'd be amazed how frequently you speak in this basic pattern.  If you look at many other playwrights of his time and before, their verse structures have either too many or too few syllables per line to represent naturalistic speech.  

Rhymed Verse - This is not that commonly used today - except in poetry and jingles.  But he mostly used this form for an effect of some sort.  Many speeches end in a rhyming couplet.  Some ethereal or particularly majestic characters rhyme with frequency.  But this form is less used in Shakespeare's plays.

It is important to note that Shakespeare did not strictly adhere to his rules all the time.  He wrote intuitively.  And though we want to understand his rules, we must still act intuitively in his plays.  "Let your own discretion be your tutor."  Really, when it comes down to it, if you just make sense out of the lines, not for the audience, but for yourself and your scene partner, then the meanings will come across.  There's no need to go crazy about it.  Just "Speak the speech" easily..."trippingly on the tongue". Focus on communicating, rather than getting it right.

In rehearsals for our current production of HAMLET, we've been trying something that seems to work very well.  We ask our actors to keep their energy moving to the end of their character's thought - so they can't pause (even for a breath) until they hit a period.  I was surprised to learn that Hamlet's "To be or not to be" speech is actually four thoughts.  It's easy to get so bogged down in the commas and colons and semicolons that it's impossible to keep track of the point being made.  But we don't tend to speak with commas and semicolons.  Punctuation is a device of the writer to communicate sense on a page.  In real life, we speak until we've finished making a point.  It's amazing how much clearer Shakespeare's text becomes when you focus on the point you're making and then use the words to make that point. 

This is the first part in a series of posts about Speaking Shakespeare.  Next up, we'll discuss Imagery, and then Hidden Clues in the Text.

We'd love to hear your thoughts and questions.  Please don't be silent.  Leave a comment.  Let's get a conversation going!

How NOT To Be "Actorman In Actorland"

Okay, yes.  The title is gender specific.  Sorry, ladies.  But it applies to all of you Actorwomen, too.  I actually take the phrase from an old friend, who learned it from some teacher at the La Jolla Playhouse Young Actor's program many moons ago - and it actually comes along with a visual of someone walking around onstage like a silent alien or astronaut or deep-sea diver, exploring the air onstage as though there is something there to explore.

Perhaps that seems ridiculous to you.  I know it does to me.  And yet, this is how many actors seem to approach their work in rehearsals.  They show up, ready to get on their feet and explore the world of the play.  How?  They'll get that instruction from their directors.  Hmmm...so, then the director might say a few words, the group may have a conversation or two on the characters or what things stand out, and then they get onstage to work on their feet...and explore NOTHING to infinity and beyond!

Many actors balk at "overthinking" anything - or any kind of extensive discussion of the play, the story, the characters, their objectives (motivations), their journeys, etc.  There seems to be a worry that these kinds of discussions inhibit the actor from exploring.  And yet, these conversations are absolutely necessary if the actor is to be given any kind of freedom to play onstage - so that they have something to explore.

Unfortunately, very few actors bring any ideas to the table.  Therefore, blocking (creating staged moments throughout a production) becomes a necessity.  When afforded the opportunity to work organically, most actors don't know what to do.  So, what ends up happening?  They'll explore their ideas of the lines and the various attitudes they associate with the meanings they hear in their heads.  Or they explore walking around and talking in the way they feel the character would walk and talk.  And they love doing that.  But it doesn't tend to result in any kind of story being told.  You get a bunch of people, walking aimlessly around the stage, talking and gesturing.  Maybe they'll get lucky and happen upon something, but maybe not.  And why leave it up to luck?  If our entire process as actors involves throwing ideas at a wall to see what sticks, then we are lost indeed.

So, what can we do about that?  Well, as The Seeing Place has just begun rehearsals for A Lie of the Mind, we've met, discussed, and ultimately asked all of the actors to come in with a plan.  That plan includes:
1.)  Their character's story as they see it.
2.)  Their character's journey of learning.
3.)  Their objectives for every scene.
4.)  A set of physical tasks to do onstage that make sense to what the character might be doing in every scene.
5.)  And a set of imaginary elements to explore the circumstances and situations given by the playwright - and interpreted by the actors.

And then we get together and rehearse - using both the writer's lines and the actors' improvised thoughts.  In that way, the actors can guide their work logically from moment to moment.  And my job, as the director, is to make sure everyone is actually doing their work and exploring.  Furthermore, I am there to make sure that those explorations are serviceable to the story.  In that way, we can build the production together.  It takes some doing to get used to, but it gets us back to what it was to play when we were kids.  Working this way, many of us have been able to get past the need to be good or to be entertaining, and to simply live through something.  In that way, we become accustomed to discovering the story.

In the final weeks of rehearsal, we'll shape the play that the audience actually sees.  So, we'll only be saying the writer's words at a point, and the technical elements (lights, sound, set, sightlines) will create certain necessary staging.  But we'll have all sorts of things to share that we discovered in rehearsals.

That's how we address it.  It's possible to do most of this alone.  Personally, I find it imperative to walk into any project, having an understanding of the story and an idea of what I can explore during rehearsals.  Most directors welcome that kind of excitement.  And either way, it's important that actors come in having something to say as artists.  After all, that's what theatre is all about. 

What are your thoughts on the subject?  Don't be shy.  Conversation is the best part of a community.

"Get Out Of My Shower!" - How To Be Private In Public

Did anyone else scream that, whiles playing on a swing-set with friends?  I know I did.  What's that got to do with acting?  Everything.  When people are looking at you, you take notice.  When you're onstage, people are looking at you.  And with Public Speaking as the #1 Fear for most Americans, how can actors get their attention off of the audience and into the story?

Supposing the piece is Realistic in nature (which has become the standard onstage), we have to behave as though there is an imaginary "4th Wall" at the end of the stage, right?  How?  In our recent post on "Diminishing Stage Customs", we made a correlation between this concept and Public Privacy.  In layman's terms, these two ideas have something to do with one another.  In reality, they don't.

This may seem obvious, but it seems important to point out:  The "4th Wall" does not exist.  It is something that occurs in imagination.  Therefore, if the actor is not actively imagining the 4th Wall, it disappears.

People like to talk about the Proscenium Arch (the area of the theater that surrounds the opening of the stage) as being the World's Largest Keyhole - as though the audience is witnessing the kind of event that only happens behind closed doors, in secret, when nobody is looking.  The only problem with that concept is the fact that at home, you literally can't see the guy looking through the peephole.  That being said, what is to keep an actor's attention on the stage when she knows she's being watched?

David Gideon, a wonderful teacher of Lee Strasberg's work (and my mentor), recalls a time in class, where a student told Strasberg that she had "Stage Fright".  As the story goes, Strasberg responded, "Who ever told you you had "Stage Fright".  What you have is Sensitivity To Your Surroundings.  Give me an actor, who doesn't have that kind of sensitivity, and I can't work with that actor!"  Why?  Because they're dead.  We need actors to be the lifeblood of society.  We go to the theater for a chance to see the things we all experience, expressed.  Otherwise, we can people-watch at the mall. 

As David constantly points out, "Actors, by nature, are passionate people.  Take any animal and put it in a room by itself for long enough, and it will get comfortable.  Remove one wall to reveal 1,000 people staring, and that animal is guaranteed to run in the opposite direction."

It's completely unnatural for us to open up and express.  We're taught to be social, instead.  And unfortunately, those habits tend to carry over to the stage.  And so frequently, we can see the actor's split attention between the audience and the story when we go to see the theater.  It seems that many actors understand the basic idea that they need to keep their attention on the other actors - or at the very least, their attention should remain behind the footlights.  But fortunately, most actors are not psychotic.  Most actors are aware that they are being watched.  And that knowledge overwhelms many of us and shuts us down.  Try showering without posturing when someone is watching.  It's not an easy time.  In terms of Expression, actors are just as naked on stage. 

So, what do we do?  As explained by Lee Strasberg, "The 4th Wall does not give us privacy.  Only our concentration on the 4th Wall can do that."  Concentration is the key.  It doesn't much matter what we're concentrating on, so long as the actor's attention is preoccupied with something other than performing.

Some people suggest that they BECOME THEIR CHARACTERS.  That's a load of malarchy.  Or maybe they need to be committed.  One of the two.  But for the practical actors in the world, we need to get our attention where it will serve us.  So, depending on your approach to acting, that might be on some creative element (creating a place, creating a substitution for a particular relationship onstage, etc), or it might be as simple as concentrating on your fellow actors - or even on your physical tasks on the stage.  You might even focus on the exploring the actual 4th Wall you've imagined.  But whatever you do, the likelihood is that the audience is sure to be a less powerful force as you put your attention somewhere else.

Notice the last statement.  You can't NOT pay attention to the audience.  We cannot actually DO a negative.  We have to intentionally put our attention somewhere else.  For instance, if you've tried to quit smoking, it's much harder to not smoke than it is to have a piece of gum instead.

I am constantly surprised to see actors that are shying away from the audience in an effort to concentrate on their work.  But no amount of avoiding the audience will help.  It takes a lot of time to learn how to tax your concentration in the kind of way that will serve acting.  And the more talented the actor, the more difficult the task.  It's taken me a long time to learn how to be private in public, and I still struggle with it on a daily basis - as do we all in this theater company.  We create fly-on-the-wall theater.  It's something that has become a cornerstone of what we strive for at The Seeing Place - most notably in our most recent productions of Love Song and our Off-Broadway debut of Danny and the Deep Blue Sea.

A trick in Public Speaking is to keep your attention on what you are trying to say, rather than how it is being received.  And that's exactly what we need to do as actors.  We need to keep our attention grounded to the stories we tell, rather than the entertainment level of today's performance.  An "unresponsive crowd" can only get a lesser show if you don't share your story. 

How have you battled these demons in your acting career?  Or do you have a story regarding privacy (or the lack thereof) in a piece of theater that you've seen?  Please share your thoughts with us as well.  We write these blogs to stir up conversation.  

Why "Stage Customs" Are Vanishing

Photo credit:  www.savagechickens.com

As it is the beginning of the year, this seems the perfect time to reflect on the State of Our Art.  Michael Feingold started the ball rolling last week in his Village Voice article, "A Case for the Return of Some Vanishing Stage Customs".  In the article, he posits that the theatre has lost such important customs as "cheating out" (literally facing the audience, so you can be seen and understood) and "counter-crossing" (when a second actor moves oppositionally to balance the stage picture when the first actor crosses the stage).  He also talks about how there seems to be less communication between the actors and audience, due to the effects of technology and the growing importance of casting stars, rather than telling stories.  It's a great article.  You should read it (after you read this one, of course).

In response to Mr. Feingold's article, we would like to discuss (in terms of acting) why some of these things are happening.  He hits the nail very much on the head when it comes to the diminishing effect that the theatre seems to have on audiences.  I find that I feel very similarly after seeing much of what NYC theatre has to offer.  That said, tricks like "Cheating-Out" and "Counter-Crossing" have always fallen short of the mark in terms of connection.  I recall a moment, working with my first acting teacher, Francis Gercke, where he very keenly observed:  "Just because you are looking someone in the eyes, it does not mean you are connecting."

We at The Seeing Place make a habit of seeing a lot of the theater in NYC - from Broadway to Off-Off Broadway.  What seems to be frequently missing is the art of storytelling.  Most actors, when asked, literally don't know what story they are telling.  Usually, that job is pawned off on the Director.  But no amount of powerful lines, pretty staging, or raw emotion can create a story on its own.  The Actor has to be aware of what he or she is trying to communicate, behaviorally.  The Director can lead all the best horses to the water, but they still have to drink for themselves.

As far as the art of staging goes, it certainly is an art.  But the main issue with acting right now seems to be a lack of craft.  We have been taught to believe that we go to study in a BFA program - and maybe even continue on to get an MFA - and POOF!  We're ready for the marketplace!  Right?  Perhaps.  It's a good start, anyway.  But very few programs stress the importance of professional training, beyond college.  As Sandy Meisner famously said, "It takes 20 years to become an actor."

I notice a lack of training, mostly, when actors are unable to be understood while emotions are riding high - either onstage or even in film.  Our voices naturally strain when big things are happening.  But the actor needs to be understood and expressive at the same time.  This is not something that is needed in reality - as my current teacher, David Gideon, constantly points out.  In fact, it is absolutely unnatural for people to relax and open up in times of great experience - be it tragic or joyful.  And yet it is the actor's job to open up and share at those very moments.  That is a skill that takes a great amount of time and effort to master - if anyone ever fully does.  I am constantly working in this direction.  It's really hard.

As far as the aesthetics of American theatre are concerned, there is a trend toward hyper-realism - as Mr. Feingold points out.  And that's fine.  As Shakespeare pointed out:  

"The purpose of playing, whose end both at the first and now, was and is, to hold as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure."  

 However, that doesn't mean that we have to discard necessary customs in storytelling in order to behave with reality.  More and more, it seems like actors have lost the sense of Play onstage in the name of Reality.  In fact, it seems that our understanding of acting, altogether, has reverted back to what it was before Stanislavski began to teach.  So frequently, actors seem to hide behind the "fourth wall", rather than developing an understanding of how to be publicly private.

For me and for The Seeing Place, the beauty of the theatre has always been that both actors and audience can collect in a room and live through a situation.  In order to do that, we all need to suspend our disbelief together.  But the actors do need to live onstage.  Otherwise, we would be better served to hold a sociology conference.  There is the opportunity in the theatre for social issues to be examined hands-on.  That said, we can't ever forget that we are storytellers.  What actors do is very special.  It is not the same experience to read a play at home.

In conclusion, we agree with Mr. Feingold's increasingly relevant frustration with The State of Theatre in America.  And the ensemble of The Seeing Place is in our fourth year of fighting back against the marginalization of the theatre.  We specifically set out to put life back on the stage and spend significant rehearsal time pinpointing the stories we share on a nightly basis with our audiences.  Our first slogan, was "Because if you wanted a Sitcom, you'd just turn on the Tube."  That's not to devalue television, but to put it in it's place.  Television is a writer's medium.  Film is a medium for editors and directors.  The theatre is an actor's medium.  It traffics in behavior.  It is where we go to see ourselves.  That's why we chose to call our company The Seeing Place.

What do you have to say about all of this?  Please leave a comment, so we can share in one another's knowledge.  Building a community is of the utmost importance to us.

From the Rehearsal Room: Brandon Walker as "Beane"

As a special feature, we're excited to introduce you to our cast members and their experiences creating the world of LOVE SONG. 

LOVE SONG runs through December 9 - Wed-Sat at 8pm and Sat-Sun at 2pm. For tickets and information, click here. 

Introducing: Brandon Walker, who's playing Beane in LOVE SONG. Here is his first-hand account of the rehearsal process. 

This has been a wild process.

First of all, it's been wonderful working with Erin Cronican as a director. Often times, I don't quite get to let go as an actor in rehearsals, because I am either directing myself or I am guiding another director through our process. So, it was a real joy to have that freedom in rehearsals, as she's worked this way so many times.

Secondly, I love this play. But it is not an easy play to do. It seems like it's going to be easy on the page; however, it's very poetic, and it's difficult to get underneath the words to the situation. One scene even alluded us until well into performances - the love scene between Molly and Beane. I kept trying to address the scene with my work, and it just kept falling flat, somehow. It would get too sexual or too weird. It's a love scene, but there's a lot of over-poetic language, and a lot of potty humor, too. It's very odd. Finally, Erin and I discussed the idea that it might be akin to a high school date. One night, I just decided to go hogwild and create the story with the objects in the room, using creative work that makes me sheepish - and miraculously, it worked wonders. And that's just ONE example.

Lastly, Beane is such an extreme character in all of his incarnations throughout the play, and I couldn't play the scenes with any logic by simply putting myself into the situation that seemed to be happening on the page. For instance, he's depressed (to the point that he appears to have Asperger's Syndrome) in the beginning of the play, and he really doesn't respond to regular stimulus. I would continually live through the situation and find that I was too sensitive - and then end up going down some rabbit hole which took us away from the story of the play. Later, he's not just hungry, but rather enjoying life as if for the first time. It seemed to me and to Erin that Beane becomes overly-sensualized - which took a while to actually get my body to DO. And then at the end of the first act, he's not just in a happy mood, but ON TOP OF THE WORLD.

Basically, these are the things that make LOVE SONG a fantastical comedy, and they are important to the storytelling. I believe this is the first time that I was really able to exercise my craft to create these tall-tale situations. Rather than just acting BIGGER, I pushed my creative work to the Nth Degree. From everything I've learned from my teacher, David Gideon, Comedy is Reality Extended. So, let's say that I were turned on in a scene, and imagining that someone were licking me sensually in order to get my imagination engaged. If I were playing a true Comedy, I would want to create TEN PEOPLE licking me. I've basically done just that all over the play. 

I'm not going to go into any more specifics with regard to this play, because how I do what I do on a stage isn't the audience's concern. You come to see the story. Ideally, you won't even notice the acting. Best case scenario is that you simply believe what we're doing. But it's been really great to stretch my acting muscles in a way I am not normally able to on stage.

***

Brandon Walker - As an actor in New York: Committed (Dooky) - Living Image Arts; Violating Uncle Piggy (Investigator) - Gallery Players; Love's Labours Lost (Dull) - ATA. Regional: West of the 5 (Charles) - La Jolla Playhouse; Androcles and the Lion (Lelio) - Old Globe; And A Nightingale Sang (Eric Parker) - Barnstormers; A Moon for the Misbegotten (Mike Hogan), The Tempest (Caliban) - North Coast Rep; A Christmas Carol (Dick Wilkins) - Sierra Rep; Two Gentlemen of Verona (Proteus), Playboy of the Western World (Shawn Keogh) - New Village Arts; Marat/Sade (Duperret) - ion Theater; Dog Act (Bud) - Moxie Theatre; This Is Our Youth (Dennis) - Life Out Loud; Romeo and Juliet (Romeo), Titus Andronicus (Saturninus), A Midsummer Night's Dream (Puck), Twelfth Night (Orsino), Measure for Measure (Pompey/Claudio), 'Tis Pity She's A Whore (Giovanni), Taming of the Shrew (Hortensio), The Tempest (Trinculo), Othello (Lodovico), Coliolanus (Brutus), Hamlet (Horatio) - Poor Players). As a Director: A Midsummer Night's Dream (Poor Players), and This Is Our Youth (Life Out Loud). As a composer: Taming of the Shrew (Poor Players).Training: David Gideon. Member AEA.

"Organic Theater" - Part 3: Objective

"Competition [in a scene] is healthy. Competition is life. Yet most actors refuse to acknowledge this. They don't want to compete. They want to get along. And they are therefore not first-rate actors."
- Michael Shurtleff

I don't normally find myself quoting Michael Shurtleff, but it rang particularly true when it was brought to my attention by Erin Cronican (our Managing Director), who is directing our upcoming production of John Kolvenbach's LOVE SONG.

There seems to be an epidemic going around our theaters.  I call it playing nice.

We spend our lives learning how to avoid conflict.  In my opinion, that's really the main thing taught in the majority of public schools: socialization.  But we get it from our parents, our peers - literally everywhere we turn, we're taught how to get along.  We learn very early on that Sharing is Caring, that we can't hit people or roar at them when we want something.  We can't just take food off of people's plates.  We learn to bite our lips, watch our mouths, hold our tongues...the sayings go on and on.  And all of these maxims serve us very well in life.  Not so well onstage.

The truth of it is:  we can't afford to behave onstage the same way we do in life.  Many of the great acting teachers have cited a difference between Naturalism and Realism onstage.  I'll go into greater detail on that in another post.  But the long and the short of it is this:  We go to the theater to see ourselves.  It's why we chose The Seeing Place as our name, the literal meaning of the Greek word, "Theatron".  In our minds, the theatre should be a place to express the things that we don't want to admit about ourselves in public.

We can hardly aim for that kind of goal if we insist on behaving in an everyday fashion onstage.  But how do we go about achieving that kind of heightened expression without setting blocking or levels of emotion?  What's to keep the strength of the story intact?  What's to keep us from avoiding conflict and behaving naturally, when that's what we've been taught all our lives?

In every theater around town, actors and directors alike stress the importance of raising the stakes.  But how do we do that? 

To answer that, I think Phil Connors says it best:

"It's the same thing your whole life.  Clean up your room.  Stand up straight.  Pick up your feet.  Take it like a man.  Be nice to your sister.  Don't mix beer and wine - ever!  Oh yeah...don't drive on the railroad tracks.  I don't know, Gus.  Sometimes, you just have to take the big chances.  I'm bettin' he's gonna swerve first.  I'm not gonna live by their rules anymore.  You make choices, and you live with them."
- Groundhog Day

Essentially, we have to change the way we're looking at the world.  David Gideon, my teacher, talks about the importance of recognizing the fact that we get applause onstage for the same things that we'd be thrown in jail for in real life.  But that's not just going to happen of its own volition.  We literally have to give ourselves permission.  Because there are no consequences onstage.  We're there to celebrate the reaches of humanity.  And we all have to play with the same kind of openness that we did when we were kids, playing make-believe. 

That said, there is still one more piece to the puzzle.  Simply acting with abandon doesn't help tell a story.  Though it's tempting, we can't just be free onstage. Why not?  Because that would destroy the reality of the play - unless the character is a psychopath.  We still have to live within some guidelines.

There is a sign posted in our rehearsal space.  It reads "GO AFTER WHAT YOU WANT."  And it really brings the whole thing to the surface.  How many people do you know that say they want to be actors, and yet when you ask them when they went on their last audition, they couldn't even begin to tell you?  I'll bet they have the same problem in their work onstage.

The singularly most difficult thing for an actor to find in a play is:  AN ACTABLE OBJECTIVE.  Many of us are taught to look for some action verbs or what our characters want is.  But in reality, what are our characters aiming for?  How are they going to get it?  Those are big questions.  And we spend a lot of time answering them at The Seeing Place. 

But it's not enough to have it in mind - in life or onstage.  We have to DO something about it.  I can know that I should exercise if I want to slim down until I'm blue in the face.  Nothing's gonna happen if I just think about it, though.  Sometimes, I literally need to force myself to act on my desires.  It can't be a matter of 'when we feel like it'.

Because our characters are at big points in their lives.  They're taking action.  There's a reason that Long Day's Journey Into Night takes place THIS WEEKEND at the Tyrone mansion - not last weekend or next weekend.  This is the time the family DID something.

I learned this from one of the greatest books on playwrighting ever.  On the second page, it says...

Let's begin the process simply, with a one-line definition of a story:
A speaker tells a listener what someone did to get what he wanted and why.
- THE ANATOMY OF STORY by John Truby

One more time, because I think it's important:
A speaker tells a listener what someone DID to get what he wanted and why.


The objectives are our lifelines in the theatre.  If I go head first after what I want, and you do too, then BAM - immediate conflict.  I've been told that the greatest stories happen when two opposing viewpoints on living go into battle.  Just because Torvald loses the at the end of Ibsen's A Doll's House, it doesn't mean that he shouldn't be fighting for his life all along the way.  Otherwise, we'll know what happens in the end before he does.  Our failures onstage are what tend to give us the greatest successes. 

It's in that collaborative competition that the story is told.  We can't afford Kumbaya in the theatre.  I don't want to give my scene partners the benefit of the doubt.  I want to challenge them.  I want them to challenge me back.  It's just like any other game we play.  We should play to win.

There seems to be this idea that in an ensemble theater, everyone should give to everyone else.  We agree.  But we shouldn't make ourselves smaller to do that.  I'll end with Marianne Williamson's overquoted quote that is especially pertinent:

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,
but that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some; it is in everyone.

And, as we let our own light shine, we consciously give
other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.

What are your thoughts on the subject?
This is the third post in a series, defining methods The Seeing Place Theater uses in our rehearsal process to create Organic Theater.  

Other posts in this series:     Part One: Speaking Out  |  Part Two: Physical Reality

"Organic Theater" - Part 2: Physical Reality

This is the second post in a series, defining the unusual methods The Seeing Place Theater uses in our rehearsal process to create Organic Theater.

"We don't use blocking."  That used to be our catch-phrase.  You can't imagine how many people have been up in arms over that concept with us over the last three years.  There's always someone there to suggest that it's possible to craft moments, block things out to a 'T', AND live through a play as though it's the first time.  And while I suppose there is some truth to that in that we could easily represent life on the stage and pretend it's the first time, why wouldn't we just live each moment for the first time?

"How do we do that?"  You ask.  And it's an important question.  Many theaters just say they live it for the first time and still use blocking.  Some don't block and just encourage actors to find the story each and every night - and I suppose that if they were especially well trained, then that might work...but most aren't.  What we do is to answer a question, based in what I consider to be Lee Strasberg's greatest insight into the theatre:

What would I be doing if the scene weren't taking place?


When asked, most people seem to want to tell us what they'd like to be doing.  "Oh, I'd be at a bar with some friends."  From my understanding, Strasberg would commonly respond to this kind of remark by saying, "Great.  You go to a bar with some friends, and I'll get an actor who will actually do what he'd be doing here if the scene weren't taking place."  And that's the rub:
What would I be doing IN THIS ROOM if the lines of this scene weren't taking place?

And then we actually DO those things throughout our scenework.  That's our blocking.  That's our physical reality.  By answering this question, The Seeing Place is able to live through something onstage that is unique to each night, rather than setting the actions and their timing in advance. Another way to think of it is this:  If your scene partner had to run off to the bathroom and left you onstage by yourself, what might your character be doing here in your imagined reality?

To illustrate: Let's take the first scene of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof for example.  What would Brick be doing if the scene weren't taking place?  Some things might be...

• Cooling off from the hot day - might include fanning, ice from the drink, etc.
• Drying off from the shower he takes before the play starts and any sweat that accumulates.
• Keeping his sprained ankle elevated.
• Drinking with the energy to fade out or "get that click" and maintain it, rather than to get drunk.
• Getting dressed in silk pajamas...or getting ready for Big Daddy's Birthday Party - even though the lines might suggest otherwise.

At Strasberg's behest (which I constantly hear from my teacher, David Gideon):
Do what you would be doing if the scene weren't taking place, and don't stop doing it unless something happens to interfere.  But if there is an interference, stop and take the time to actually deal with it.  But as soon as you are able, go back to doing what you'd be doing if the scene weren't taking place - even if it doesn't make sense.

That's a very complicated statement - though we've found it to be relatively simple in execution.  Simple does not mean easy.  It requires a change of viewpoint from what we normally find in the theater.  Many actors in our mainstream theater seem to rely on the guidance of directors to be told what to do and where to go.  Even in TSP rehearsals, there is an occasional outburst of, "Just tell me what to do and I'll do it!"  But we don't let our group go through the motions onstage.  I'm not suggesting that there are not actors out there that are organic and alive in their work.  But we are a full company of actors that set out to remain creative in performance.  We have to keep our thinking caps on.  For us, it's not simply a matter of saying lines well or expressing whatever emotional reality is going on.  We're aiming to live fully into an imaginative situation onstage.  The tasks we do keep us concentrated and engaged.  We can't fake them.  That gives us grounding, whether or not we're having a good night at the theater.

The primary thing that The Seeing Place aims to create in our work is the simple reality.  If someone is drinking tea, we want them to actually make it and actually drink it.  If you need to sweep a stage, go ahead and actually sweep it.  That's the easiest part of acting.  As Lee Strasberg had posted over his door at The Lee Strasberg Theater Institute, "It's not about emotion."  That's not to suggest that the emotional reality isn't important.  But at Strasberg's insistence, we can't go for emotions:
"The emotions take care of themselves."

Of course, there will be exceptions and times when the play calls for something slightly different - as was the case in our production of THREE SISTERS, which had some "stand-in" props that were not 100% realistic.  But even then, we were still doing what we'd be doing if the scenes weren't taking place - within the confines of that reality.

Lee Strasberg's insight into this element of human behavior, which The Seeing Place uses in our work, is based in an observation that Strasberg made about people, which is that in life, we don't stop doing what we're doing to have conversations.

David Gideon, my teacher, has given the following example (I'm paraphrasing):  If we're driving to Boston, we don't stop the car to have an argument.  We may begin an argument and respond so intensely that we feel out of control and NEED to stop the car to deal with the situation, but as soon as we've got it back under control and can continue driving, we do.

And that's how The Seeing Place goes about doing something unique to each night.  Sometimes, the emotional reality interrupts in one place or another, sometimes it doesn't.  Sometimes, we're doing one activity in a certain place in a scene, sometimes another.  It's completely based on how things play out that night.  But it's all connected to the logic of the scene, the play, the character, and our own observations about people and our world. 

I've even used this approach in plays that were stringently blocked by a director.  In reality, the director doesn't want to have to block actors that stringently much of the time.  If the actor comes in with a logical life to carry out onstage, most directors are more than willing to work within it. 

All in all, I find it to be much more fun.  After all, it is a play.  :O)

What are your thoughts on all of this?

Other posts in this series:     Part One: Speaking Out

What Is "Organic Theater"? - Part 1: Speaking Out

This is the first post in a series, defining some of the tools we use to make the theater you enjoy on our stages.

For a long time, we've been very hesitant to talk about our process.  It tends to get a bad wrap.  Anytime someone doesn't understand something we do, they blame the way we work - as though there would be no problems if we were to just follow the theatrical norms in our business. 

The biggest mystery seems to revolve around what we call "Speaking Out" (In the past, we've referred to it publicly as "Structured Improvisation", because we felt it needed a layman's term).  Over the last three years that The Seeing Place has been around, people have taken this phrase to mean anything from a lack of textual analysis to a complete disregard for the playwright.  Both could not be further from the truth.

It's hard to describe what we do in terms that people outside of it can understand.  As with bike-riding, there's a lot of jargon representing uncommon experiences - that are best learned in action, rather than words.  Simply put, "Speaking Out" is a means to combine the Actor's thoughts and impulses with the Author's words.

Speaking Out is a practice that we've borrowed from Lee Strasberg's work.  For those unfamiliar, I like to describe it as being similar to Meisner's Repetition Exercise, because it functions to answer the same problem -  helping the actor respond impulsively and get out of his own way.  As far as what we do at The Seeing Place is concerned, it is a rehearsal technique that allows our actors to actively keep their creative juices flowing and address any difficulties that come up.  The main benefit is that it forces actors to really talk and listen to one another.  As Bobby Lewis said, "If it's not talking and listening, it really doesn't matter how much more it is."

We've found that with Speaking Out, we are able to facilitate actors in effectively getting their work into their lines.  There is a common worry that speaking your thoughts will put you in your head.  That is not the aim.  It's not about creating new dialogue.  It's about living in the situation.  In our process, there should be no discrepancy between the actor's spoken thoughts and the author's written lines.  Speaking out is not private subtext.  The other actors can and do hear you.  They respond in the same way as you would to someone screaming "Hello!" at you.  Actors are encouraged to take the same energy of their thoughts into their lines.  This gives them a means of addressing expression - so that their work gets out of their heads and into reality.

Without giving a formal tutorial, what we do basically looks like this:

Let's say that the lines of the scene are:
A:  Hi.  How are you?
B:  I'm fine.  Thanks.  And you?

Speaking Out is loosely structured like this:
A:  [1st actor speaks his impulsive thoughts, then]  Hi.  How are you?
B:  [2nd actor responds, speaking impulsive thoughts, then]  I'm fine.  Thanks.  And you?

In action, let's say that actors A and B are in a lover's quarrel.  Let's say that A stormed out of the house, giving B some time to pack up and leave.  This is an example of how this conversation might manifest, while speaking out.

A:  I can't believe you're still here!  Hi!  How are you?
B:  I'm...really sorry, okay?  I'm fine.  I promise.  Thanks.  And you?

Notice: 
1.)  There is no distinction made between the author's lines and the actor's thoughts. (In the last example, lines are only in bold to provide clarity.  There should be no notable difference between lines and thoughts in either energy or volume.)
2.)  The actors thoughts affect the manner in which the author's lines are said. 
3.)  The actors can choose to speak freely within their own lines, but offer no improvised thoughts after they give the cue.
4.)  B is responding in situation to A's behavior, though not necessarily to the improvised words.  In other words, B does not say "What made you think I was going to leave?" 

It looks very complicated.  And it is at first.  There is a learning curve.  But only because Speaking Out requires actors to be active participants in their work.  They are forced to think on their feet.  They have to get personally involved.  They can't plan how they are going to say their lines.  They have to go with today's reality, right now.  It will be different tomorrow.  In this way, their work is full of life each and every time.  They also bear the full responsibility of communicating with their scene partners - because everyone is accountable to keeping the ball in the air. 

Every actor, I'm sure, can identify with the following experience.  You plan out exactly what you want to do in a scene, you have the creative juices flowing before you enter, you walk into the scene and...say lines without doing what you set out to do.  Oops!  We've all been there.  Speaking out gives you a practical tool in rehearsals to address those kinds of difficulties in the moment.

You may be wondering why anyone would bother with this kind of work.  First of all, it really is fun to live through an imaginary event, rather than represent it.  But the chief reason is this:

The playwright does not and cannot mean anything without the actor's interpretation.  In order for the playwright's words to sing, they have to resonate personally with the actors.

Also, please keep in mind that this is a rehearsal technique.  It's nothing that ever happens on our stages.  In production, you'll only ever hear the author's words, unless there is some unavoidable emergency - which happens in any production from time to time (it's the fun of live theater).  Most audiences comment that there is very personal character work and a lot behavioral nuances in our shows that the actors seem to share.  That's a direct result of Speaking Out.

You may worry that The Seeing Place does not hold writers in the highest esteem.  We absolutely do.  In fact, we do everything we can to dissect the situation, the story, the characters, and our own interpretations.  The playwright wrote way more than the words on the page.  A play is a skeleton.  It is our call as actors to give it life. 

Please comment and ask any questions you may have.  Please also share any experiences you've had in improvisation as a rehearsal technique.  Either way, we'd love to hear your thoughts.

How Do You Remember All Those Lines?

We asked for suggestions.  Of course, this was at the top of the list.  And though I could scoff at it, like every actor does in any talk-back...why not answer it?

This paragraph is for the laymen out there.  If you are a seasoned actor, you may skip down.  I give you permission.  The reason why every actor cringes when asked this question is because acting holds a far greater challenge than remembering lines.  It's much harder to believe a situation and live it out truthfully, as if if were the first time, at 8pm every night.  Line memorization is the simplest part of acting.  It requires repetition - in the same way that remembering the words and notes of a song requires you to play it over and over.  After a certain amount of times, the lines should be able to be fired off with the same kind of ease that most people sing "Happy Birthday".  Also, memorization is easier to do when you do it frequently.  It works like any other muscle.

That said, line memorization poses a big problem to actors.  Most of the time, actors have such engrained patterns of speech that there is no way for the truth of the moment to be expressed.  Many actors spend so much time planning out their thoughts in a given scene that there is no possibility for anything other than a planned response.  Thus, much of the work we see onstage carries very little life. 

It's a rare day that I work with an actor, who knows how to discover new meanings in a scene.  And that's an important part of being alive onstage.  Many actors respond with the same meaning no matter what stimulus is given them.  You could be screaming or crying or whispering, and you'll still get your true blue response from your scene partner.  I've known plenty of actors to wear that badge as though it's a medal ("I didn't change a thing tonight.")  But they did.  They changed their belief in the situation.  They stopped talking and listening.  And as Bobby Lewis said, "If it's not talking and listening, it really doesn't matter how much more it is."

So...HOW DO YOU REMEMBER ALL THOSE LINES?  How do you do it in such a way that you retain enough flexibility for your moment to moment responses to come through?  Nobody ever seems to talk about line memorization.  Yet it is an important part of acting.  And to do it in a manner that will serve you is much more difficult than it seems.

Here are some tricks I've learned to allow you freedom in your work:

1.)  You need to know the lines so well that you don't have to think in order to remember them.  That way, they can take on whatever meaning or interpretation exists impulsively in you.  Often times, when we learn lines quickly, we have to group them into settled meanings in order for our short-term memory to grab ahold.  It is necessary that you don't need to reach for your words, so you can put your attention on the circumstances of the play, your own creative and imaginative work, and your scene partner.  That, in and of itself, will do wonders for your work.

2.)  Try writing them out without punctuation to disassociate the structure from the thoughts.  I suggest writing, because it's more active than typing, but either works.  Keep in mind that people do not speak, using syntax.  That is a writer's device to express thought on a page.  Very frequently, people do not pause for commas or make full-stops at periods when talking.  So, you have to have the same kind of freedom in your speech to emphasize wherever makes the best sense in the moment. 

3.)  Try to keep your mind off of the meanings and focus more on the sound of the words.  This is an incredibly difficult way to memorize lines, but if you can hold off from making acting choices while repeating lines for the purposes of memorization, you'll be half-way there.  Trust that you will be able to add the meaning in performance, because you are a living human being in a situation.  In order to memorize this way, I often have to go one sentence at a time.  After I say it ten times, I can add the next sentence.  And then I do that ten times.  It's a painstaking process, but well worth it.

4.)  Try using different accents.  On top of the fact that it's just FUN, it's also a good way to keep yourself from emphasizing the same words or sticking to the same verbal patterns.

5.)  Mess with the pacing.  Go through very quickly and then very slowly.  That will force your brain to think differently and help break or avoid patterns.

6.)  Sing the words.  This is the most helpful thing you can do.  It forces you to provide a completely new structure to the lines.  I almost always forget the lines when I do this.  Don't worry.  You're building new synapses, so you'll be able to play more in your work onstage.

I'm sure that some alarms are going off.  But keep in mind...

Jimmy Cagney's famous quote is "Look 'em in the eye, and tell them the TRUTH." - It's not 'Tell them the LINE'.  That's immensely important.  You have to be able to express the truth of the moment.  Not last night's truth.  Not the truth you wish were there.  The truth that is going on with YOU right then, right there. 

Thoughts?  Stories?  I'll even take horror stories from those days when either you or your scene partner went up.  Those are always fun.  Let's hear it!

:O)

"Good" Acting In Class?

How do you judge whether or not a classroom is any good for you?

Many people, when surveying classes, view them from the perspective of "good acting".  So, if the actors "suck", then it's a bad class.  If they're "good", then that's where you want to be, right?

There's only one major issue with this logic:  CLASSROOM WORK AND GOOD ACTING HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ONE ANOTHER. 

Some personal alarms just went off, I imagine.  And I understand.  It's difficult to reserve that judgment.  But would you expect to find Einstein in a doctorate program?  Would you expect a mechanic to show you how fast his Maserati can go, while it's still in the shop?  Would you expect to enjoy beautiful arias at a singing lesson?  No, right?  Then why would you expect to find anything other than actors problem-solving in a classroom?

The classroom is a special environment.  It's a medium for growth.  In this cut-throat business, it's the only place you can fail.  Beyond that, if you aren't failing, you're not getting the most out of your classroom environment.  You come to a classroom to build new tools and habits that will help you become a stronger actor. 

If you think of building a craft like learning to juggle oranges, then just consider that the more oranges you add, the more orange juice you're going to get.  If you remain at two or three oranges, then your ego may love you for it, but you won't be growing in your art.  The classroom is the place where we can push ourselves beyond our natural habits and levels of comfort. 

In the case that you don't want to push yourself to your limits, don't join an acting class.  If you are satisfied with your current level of training, then all an acting class is going to do is to frustrate you.  Maybe what you need is to get yourself involved with a theater company or an ongoing workshop.  Many actors that join acting classes are just looking for an artistic home.  If you're happy with your work, then try your hand at an audition for The Actors Studio or Ensemble Studio Theatre - or other newer workshops.  Try to attach yourself to a company of actors.  Either way, if you fit into this group, I'd stop reading this post...because from here down, this is for the rest of us that have things we'd like to improve in our work.

So, for those of you still with me:  What should you look for in an acting class?  

1.)  It needs to be a safe environment.  YOU need to feel safe in it.  If you don't, find a new class.  But really listen to yourself.  Often times, investigative work can be so personal that you may feel attacked.  But that's not the teacher's doing.  That's you.  When in doubt, always bring up your questions and concerns with your teacher, and you'll be able to judge by the response whether or not this is a good environment for you.

2.)  You need to want to learn from the teacher.  That extends to both the instructor and the work that teacher is teaching.  Just because the teacher is at The (fill in the blank) Institute, it does not make him knowledgeable.  If there doesn't seem to be agreement between your teacher and what you've read about regarding this way of working, always ask about it.  Maybe YOU just don't understand how the ideas are connected.  If not, find someone that IS teaching the work you want to learn.  They are out there.  I promise.

3.)  Rather than looking for actors to impress you, make sure that you can see the actors growing - or being led in that direction.  So, really listen to the teacher's criticisms and see if you agree.  If not, then maybe it's not the class for you.  If the teacher has no comments, then it might not be a very good environment for growth.  BUT you still may want to ask why that teacher didn't offer any criticism.  Maybe that teacher is tired of giving the same note, didn't want to waste class time on it, and is planning to talk with the student individually.  Lee Strasberg would tell his instructors "never to work harder than the student is working - it'll only frustrate the student."  Also, make sure that the students are working in class and treating it like a professional environment by showing up on time and prepared.  They're going to be the people with whom you share your art. 

4.)  Be wary of teachers offering quick fixes.  You're not going to learn anything practical at an intensive.  No teacher is going to help you book jobs.  Maybe a career coach can help with that kind of thing.  But a craft of acting should really go far beyond an audition room.  Will building a craft help you book jobs?  Most likely...but not anytime in the near future.  If you're going to spend the time to join a class that focuses on technique and learn a craft, then it's not something you can do quickly.  It's a life's work.  You're engaging on a mission to personal discovery.  Your aim should be to learn how to get your instrument to do what you want it to do, when you want it to do it.  That's a HUGE undertaking.  Don't expect speedy results. 

5.)  Base your opinions of what to expect on the actors you know work this way in The Marketplace.  So, if you're interested in Lee Strasberg's work, for instance, then try to use people like Dustin Hoffman, Sally Field, and Paul Newman as good examples of artistic success - and please note that they are vastly different actors.  If the teacher has former students you know or can research, do so.  Choose actors that represent the 'finished' product of that work, rather than the people currently learning it.  I'm not meaning to suggest that an actor is ever finished, by the way.  Rather, I am suggesting that there is a point where you may not need an instructor to guide your exercise work.  But we all need a coach.  Even Strasberg employed my teacher, David Gideon, to be his coach when preparing for all his film work after The Godfather Part II.  If The Maestro still needed an outside eye at his age and skill level, so do we all.

6.)  You can't learn acting one-on-one.  So, give up the idea of private coaching right now - unless it's for a specific role or audition.  Otherwise, it's a waste of your time and energy.

All in all, embrace the classroom.  It's the only place you don't have to be good.  All you need to do is to learn.

Thoughts?  Stories?  Talk to me.  :O)

Developing Your Own Method

I want to clear something up.

It seems that everywhere I turn, I hear the same faulty logic with regard to the craft of acting.  People seem to think that they know what does and does not work for their acting.  They don't.  It's that simple.  If you take a little bit from here and a little bit from there, you end up with a whole lot of nothing. 

I'll quote from a comment that our Managing Director, Erin Cronican, left on Ben Hodge's blog a few weeks back:

When trying to help my students understand the purpose of choosing a teacher/technique, I often liken the process to finding a good therapist. You want to find someone you feel safe with, but who will challenge you to open up in ways that will be useful for your progress. And you want someone rooted in a specific philosophy that has a structure, so that as you go deeper into yourself you have something to tether yourself to. If I were to go to three therapists to try to address why I'm having trouble relating to my sister, I'll definitely learn 3 different approaches to getting what I need but it will either a) confuse me because I'm bouncing back and forth between ideas or b) take me three times as long to get to where I need to be because I'm constantly retooling myself for each new technique.

I really think that says it best.  Our goal should not be academic in nature.  We don't need to understand acting to be good actors.  We need to understand ourselves.

But we can't just leap-frog to that result.  It's a process.  In my studies, I've learned that it takes about a year to become comfortable enough with a teacher and a process, so that the two of you can really start to break down the habits that get in your way and build new ones.  That kind of personal development not a very comfortable thing to do.  In fact, it's excessively uncomfortable.  And it feels wrong.

Let me interject for a moment to clarify one thing:  I am not referring to scene study classes.  This blog is about technique-driven classes (which may include scene-study, but emphasis is placed on building the actor's instrument).  A scene study class can be a good place to keep your work fresh, but it's really a better place to maintain a previously-formed craft than to build one.  Most of what can be learned in a scene study class has to do with script interpretation and learning how to function in relation to directors.

Back to technique training.  For the first while that you're working with a new teacher, you learn a set of exercises.  The exercises, themselves, are generally random and inconsequential.  They've been created as a medium for you to work on your instrument.  So, it's not about doing them the right way or the wrong way.  But there is a way that they will work more effectively than some others.  And you'll be guided to that way of working.  Simply learning the exercises takes a good amount of time.

Once you learn the basic exercises, then there is a frame of reference for your work, and you can begin to address the places where your exercise work is not as strong.  It's important to separate your work on your instrument from scenework, because character and story throw too much into the mix for you to be able to focus on yourself.  The ego is hard enough to overcome without your performance habits interfering as well.  Generally, I'm able to address my difficulties in exercise work long before I'm ever able to address the same issues in scenework.  After you start to identify the habits that are inhibiting your work, you can begin to affect those same changes in your scenework - and eventually in your acting in the marketplace.

The biggest worry I hear is that people don't want to pick a way of working because they'll turn into some kind of cookie-cutter actor.  And that does happen sometimes, but usually only in the beginning stages of a craft.  But without training, most actors get locked into cliches of expression, anyway. 

Keep in mind that the goal of technique training is to give you access to yourself.  If you see it through to an understanding of your body, rather than stopping at the mental process, you will literally transform.  Learning yourself cannot be likened to intellectual knowledge.  It's like riding a bike.  It's learning how your body balances.  So, when your worries arise, remind yourself that you're not being brainwashed.  And don't feel the need to do your classroom work in the marketplace.  Let that happen as it happens.  Until then, do whatever works when you're outside the classroom.

There are all sorts of teachers that rely on Stanislavski's admonition to "Develop your own method.  Do not slavishly rely on mine."  And that's all well and good.  But you can't just create your own method out of thin air.  It has to be in a structured environment with a good coach.  It's not about doing what feels good.  Standing in front of a bunch of people at 8pm every night, pretending to be someone else, and giving into the pains and pleasures of life is NOWHERE CLOSE TO NATURAL BEHAVIOR.  It requires a skill-set.

Think of this all like learning to dance.  It would be ridiculous for a dancing teacher to tell you to feel out the rhythms and see what your body does.  There would be no logic to the dancing.  In order to improvise, you first have to learn some basic steps to various types of music.  Once you have that framework in place, you can begin to let your body do what it wants to do within that structure.

For more information of acting teachers, check out our blog series on training.

Thoughts?  Questions?  Let's hear it!  :O)

Anyone Can Act (or can they?)

This has been heating up the social media airwaves, and we thought it was funny enough to post.




What are your thoughts on this topic? Sounds off in the comments section!

When You Need To Cry Onstage

As an organic company with a focus on intense plays, we tend to work on material that requires huge breakdowns onstage.  This season alone, we've done Closer and Three Sisters, both of which call for large swaths of emotion.  People are constantly asking:

How are we able to bring ourselves to tears in our work on a nightly basis?

The answer is going to seem unsatisfactory:  We insist on a belief in the situation.  We don't insist on crying.  In point of fact, it's rarely necessary to actually cry.  If an actor and an audience believes a situation to be real, then the amount of emotion is inconsequential.  The simplest truth goes a long way.  Marlon Brando used to say, "A little bit of blood is still blood." - and that's coming from man constantly regarded as the most sensitive actor ever...who cried ONCE in his film work (Last Tango in Paris).  Crying without a supported reality is about as effective as a faked orgasm.  You may fool the audience, but you'll never get the satisfaction you were looking for.

Generally, when actors are called upon to cry, they think they need to create a time in their lives when they were that distraught.  Especially considering that The Seeing Place builds shows organically, people assume that we encourage people to go back in their lives and find a time to relive onstage.  Many even think that people like Lee Strasberg built his whole teaching career around this theme.  This has to be the biggest piece of misinformation about "THE METHOD".

There was a sign above Lee Strasberg's office when he was alive.  The sign read, "It's not about emotion."  People seem to think that his work revolved around "Emotional Memory".  That couldn't be further from the truth.  First of all, you can't work on an "Emotional Memory".  You have to create an Affective Memory (the circumstances of a past experience), which may or may not lead to an Emotional Memory.  But we can't work for emotions.  Emotions are like deer - if you confront them, they run away.

Even with that, Affective Memory is the most talked about and least done exercise of Strasberg's.  He even said that if you work on more than one or two Affective Memories in an entire lifetime, then you're probably a leading actor with a focus in the classics.  I've been studying Lee's work for seven years.  I still haven't worked on an Affective Memory - and I've only seen it done a few times in class.

Emotions take care of themselves.  Really, what is of importance to create is the character's situation.  If I come home from work to this dramatic break-up scene, then all I need do to break down in some kind of a way is to believe that my scene partner is someone I want to come home to.  The script will take it from there.  I don't need to create the time when my heart was broken.  I can literally let my heart be broken on a nightly basis.

The moral of the story:  Reality is much bigger than real tears.  Acting isn't crying - it's believing.

Now, let's say that your director INSISTS that you must CRY RIGHT HERE AT THIS POINT IN THE SCENE!...

Here's what Strasberg would say (with a smile):

"Okay.  Good.  First, what I would do is to do nothing.  What if you were going to cry anyway, and if you just RELAX, the tears will come?  If that doesn't work, then I like to go way upstage where people can't see and pull a nose-hair.  That brings tears to my eyes.  If I've pulled so many nose-hairs that I have none left, then I fake it - there's an audience out there!  And then I figure out that night why I needed to do that and what needs to be addressed in my work."


Thoughts?  Experiences?  Share with us!

Another F*ing Method Actor

We all know the story:

Dustin Hoffman was doing Marathon Man.  He starved himself and didn't sleep or whatever the hell else for three days, so that he could come in with the goods, right?  And then Larry Olivier, says..."My dear boy, why don't you try acting?"

And throughout the years, I've heard this explanation used ad nauseum to explain why Method Acting is craziness.  Except for one thing...Lee Strasberg (the guy who's credited as the Father of Method Acting) agreed with Olivier.  In Lee's own words, "If it's literal, where is the art in Acting?"

First of all, what the Hell is "THE METHOD"?  Well, it is a phrase that was coined by critics of Lee Strasberg's work.  It's a variation on Stanislavski's "System", which is a shortening of the longer phrase, "A system of things for the actor to do when in a difficult spot."

Secondly, "THE METHOD" is a problematic phrase, because it suggests that there is one way to do things.  Even Lee Strasberg, himself, said in a car-ride with my teacher, David Gideon, that of all of the actors he'd worked with over the years, "Never two the same".

Thirdly, most of what is referred to as "METHOD ACTING" in society is complete bunk.  People seem to think that actors study Lee Strasberg's work and learn how to be completely psychotic.  And unfortunately, the highly publicized METHOD moments generally have nothing to do with a craft of acting.  And Lee never felt the need to correct society, because he thought it was great enough that there was a conversation going on at all about how actors do what they do.

So, what is it, then?

The funniest thing about THE METHOD is the fact that all of the misconceptions around it are so wildly off-base.  When it comes down to it, Strasberg taught people how to play make-believe again.  He taught them how to do what we all did when we were five years old; how to stop judging ourselves and our work; how to get out of our own ways and PLAY.

And in fact, Olivier once sat in on a session in The Actors Studio and in commenting on work from Othello, couldn't quite explain what he meant and asked to get up and demonstrate.  Lee, of course, welcomed the demonstration from such a knowledgeable source.  And Olivier proceeded to fall apart in front of The Actors Studio, falling into pitfall after pitfall of self-judgment, until FINALLY, he hocked a big loogie, spat at the floor of Lee's feet, said "Fuck you!  Fuck all of you!", and continued his work to great success.  After he finished and had clearly demonstrated his point, Lee said, "You make fun of our work, and yet you do it!"

Because what is THE METHOD?  It's what we all naturally do on the nights when everything comes alive for us.  It's anything and everything you need to do in order to be able to engage your imagination.  It's being able to do that eight shows a week. 

So, the next time you come across that intense Actor Man in Actor Land, who's in it and really feelin' it, who starves himself down do the bone for a role, and then lives in a tent and stays *in character* for three months...next time that happens, just know that Lee Strasberg would be the first person to stand up and say that what he's doing has nothing to do with a craft of acting.  That's just Another F*ing Method Actor.

Thoughts?  STORIES?  Do tell.  :O)