Saturday, June 23, 2007

Ever Get the Feeling You've Been Cheated?

This quote pops into my mind so frequently it is somewhat disturbing.

For those of you unfamiliar with the quote, allow me to brush past a little piece of punk history. During a concert in 1977 or 78' John Lydon, aka Johnny Rotten, of the Sex Pistols mused the above mentioned line to the audience. If you watch the footage you'll see a somewhat crestfallen Lydon staring into the sea of onlookers looking befuddled and disappointed. If I remember correctly (and I might not) the song preceeding this moment was "No Fun". Indeed.

What intrigues me about this moment is how honest it is. The bluster falls away for minute and all that is left is a young man disenchanted with his fame. I've seen interviews where he asserts that this moment was for the band and that, "...the easiest thing in the world to do is to stop. If you don't want to be a pop star anymore, just stop...". I am fascinated by that. I am fascinated by what that means and am fascinated by how he didn't "just stop" and I wonder if it is humanly possible to maintain any kind of integrity in the face of money/ fame. He walked away. Sometimes we just have to eat. Sometimes we just have something to say. Sometimes we just need to be stroked.

Most artists- performers in particular- are hard wired to seek a certain amount of attention. How do we steer clear of arrogance and self indulgence when the business, the public and sometimes even the art itself encourages us to dive in? Even on the smallest of scales there is temptation to serve yourself over anything or anyone else. There have been times which I, as an audience member, have been eternally grateful for the artist's instinct to amuse him/herself. After all, half the reasons to watch something like "The Carol Burnett Show" are to watch these actors crack each other up. Tim Conway was terribly self indulgent that way- picking on poor Harvey Korman like that. And yet I love it. There is joy in it. Conversely, however, I tire of watching Robin Williams desperately try to keep people laughing at his manic state because I feel the real Robin is somehow hidden. Worse yet is watching Jim Carrey mug for love and affection with his elastic face or Chris Farley degrade himself in a very desperate and self destructive plea for attention. This is not to say that I haven't found some things funny or even entertaining about these performers, but sometimes it is more than too much and I am left feeling more sad than I feel entertained.

I digress more than a bit here because Lydon's comment is more about the emptiness left behind. Being a product, a commodity, is so often much more than people bargain for and the halls of many rehab facilities can attest to this simple fact. Being a product can't be good for a person. And yet, that is what the industry demands.

Then I think about Dave Chappelle. He did not walk away from his experience unscathed, I'm sure, but he seems to have managed himself from a very true place- a very self aware and honest place. How many of us can do that? I've sold myself for so much less than was offered him. Once again, sometimes we have to eat.

Where is the line? For sure, each of us has a different line. Some won't do "under fives", some won't do extra work, others won't work for a penny less that $20 million. All we really have to rely on is our gut instincts, but what if our gut instincts are the instincts which keep us quiet and our work stuffed in dark, seldom opened dresser drawers?

I have a middle aged friend who only hints at having ever been involved in the theatre. I know him as a dedicated father and lover of film. He has never let on to me his ambitions, however, I discovered today that he has a vast body of unproduced work just waiting. It seemed a cautionary tale to me that one could reach an age where they have never spoken of their life's work and therefor their life's work is never spoken of. How close does one hold the cards? How do you choose what to do with your work? How do you decide what to do with yourself?

As for me, I fear my own self-indulgence (after all, I did once convince a 6'6" classmate to dress up like a female reproductive system complete with maracas for ovaries just to amuse myself...) and my suceptibility to flattery. I worry about my arrogance and my ego becoming so inflated that it pops. I worry about being stolen from, bought and sold. I worry about the entertainment that is out there today and how it is made by committee and focus group instead of by artist and ensemble. I worry about honest questioning and different viewpoints disappearing in a world of pre-fabricated, die cut, corporate thinking. I worry about finding myself empty one night, staring at an audience of my own making while I have nothing left to give them but an already uttered query.

Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Ensemble

There is nothing better or more satisfying than finding people with whom you enjoy working. Personal chemistry is, indeed, an elusive thing but a good working relationship is not that hard if you know how to get off on the right foot.

The best way to promote the creation of a good ensemble is to be a good ensemble member yourself. Then surround yourself with people who are also good ensemble members. People who love the work in themselves more than themselves in the work are a joy to work with. If you love working with these people you will be more open to them and they will, in turn, be more open to you. The magic of an ensemble is in the openness, the trust that is created between cast and crew which leads to great explorations and incredible personal risks. A company should be about lifting each player- and by player I mean performer, administrator, box office staff, stage manager, prop master, etc- up toward their personal best and beyond. If you can find that in yourself you are more likely to find and join or create a brilliant ensemble.

If you can't, you'll be doing something else entirely.

As always, the choice is yours.

Friday, June 08, 2007

The Theatre I Want

The classics and I don't get along. And that isn't because I don't love them. It isn't because I no longer find them vital. It isn't even because they are so frequently done poorly. It is because I am an American. Specifically, I am an American who was taught to revere classical work as one would admire the craftsmanship of a Ming vase or an Egyptian artifact. They are old. They are delicate. They are needed and desired and therefor must only be observed from behind glass in order to guarantee their preservation. Playing with them is verboeten.

I suppose this is a variation on my Godot lament, but I'd like to take it a step further and explore what I really want from a theatre. From MY theatre! I want classics that can withstand my artistic teething and I want new works that are as strong as those classics. I want a rough and messy theatre with mistakes and passion. I want a theatre that does not follow another model simply because that is "just the way it is done" in American theatre. I want to reject the notion that bigger is better. I want an almost libertarian theatre. I want to bring back the kitchen sink and open wide its cabinets to peer at the dusty cleaning products, sloppy looking trash can and the refuse that has fallen behind it. I want magical forests made entirely out of gobos, blue lights and maybe discarded soup cans. I want music and silence, sex and virginity, decorum and depravity.

I can't remember what play it was that I saw with Judi Densch but I do remember her saying something to the effect of 'If you don't like the theatre then by all means, stop going.'. Yes! Absolutely! I've no interest in forcing people to love or understand the theatre. MY theatre. I will not be a whining Democrat begging disenfranchised soccer moms to rejoin the flock. I want a theatre that is what it is. I want to run it as if I am independently wealthy and it doesn't matter if people see it or like it. I want a theatre with big brass balls that clang like cathedral bells. I want to be afraid and I want to do it anyway. I want to be right and I want to be proven wrong. I want my theatre to be a witty, ribald, respectful, thoughtful, open sore. I want an audience that can't stop themselves from picking at it.

How's that for a mission statement?

Monday, June 04, 2007

Note to Actors: Be Human

Actors can be very frustrating creatures.

Last week I met a fellow at a bar and we struck up a conversation out of boredom. After about 5 minutes I realized that this guy was just going to keep talking and that he was not going to take enough interest in me to even ask my name. He was treating me as a test audience for some poorly written monologue he had bouncing around in his head. After about 10 minutes it became clear that it did not matter who or what I was, he was, literally, just talking to hear himself talk. After 15 minutes or so I was finally able to get a word in edgewise and I asked him...

"Are you an actor?"

He looked at me with great surprise. Since we had been discussing a local building development he could not fathom how I would have known his calling.

"Yes. How'd you know?"

I am too polite to say, 'Because you are clearly a self-absorbed ass and way too interested in your own feelings and observations about the world to actually include another human being in your conversation', but that was what I was thinking.

Now, the truth is, the best actors I know aren't like that. The best actors that I know use the skills they need in their professional life in their personal interactions. The best actors I know are not trying to 'create a scene' with the people in their lives being unwitting players in their self-constructed little dramas (with themselves as the stars!) but are listening and reacting to people in honest ways. Nothing is more obnoxious that having a long conversation with another person who is so self-involved that they don't even think of asking, 'Hey- how are you doing?'.

I was in the position to be working in a group with a particular actor who clearly took no notice of me, even though we had to work together. He just didn't find me interesting enough at first glance. That was crystal clear. He likes women who are taller, thinner and hair flippier. Perhaps I was too polite or even too quiet (I can be quiet sometimes, believe it or not) for him to take an interest in the lady in the countless black knit outfits. After some careful observation I decided to make a wager with myself. I gave myself five minutes on our last day of assigned interaction to get his attention and then see if I could keep that attention for the remainder of the project. I did. It was embarrassingly easy.

All I had to do was make three dirty references, casting myself as the naughty librarian type and BAM he was mine for the evening. After the first joke, he was a bit shocked. Just shocked enough to start directing his little monologue about his professional discoveries in my direction. After the second joke, he started to smile at me and then began to engage me in his discussion and asking my opinion. After the third joke he began laughing a little too loudly at everything I said and finally, after a few weeks of working in the same group and being largely ignored by him, he began to ask questions about me. But if you see what I did there and analyze what happened you might need to take a shower.

It wasn't until there was a hint of sex and the promise some imaginary titilation (and when there's imaginary titilation, then maybe a real sexual encounter could follow- couldn't it?) that I could get even the smallest bit of this actor's attention. It wasn't until the idea was placed in his mind that I could be of some service (real or imagined) to him in some way that I could get him to value my input as an artist. Sadly, a lot of actors (male AND female) operate this way. I am probably guilty of it myself. I hope not to this extent, but I'm sure I've made snap judgements like this before.

Now, I'm sure these two fellows are good to their friends and have nice points about them, but to me they came off as complete asses. Their behavior illustrates to me that if I am as self absorbed as they are that I could really miss out on opportunities to grow and to understand other human beings. After all, I know what I can bring to the table and I know these two gentlemen were missing it and were missing it because of their snap judgments about me and their own, inflexible personal conversational agendas. I'm making an effort to let other people in and allow myself to be changed by them.

It was pretty mean of me to manipulate that guy, but in a way I'm impressed with myself for having called it. I'm also disappointed in the knowledge that I used to bring out the sexual references on instinct. It is a cheap way to get someone's attention, but it works with the self-involved regardless of their sexual orientation. It is a tactic that gets results. Obviously I have filed that one away into my bag of tricks, but to be honest, I feel pretty gross about it.

I shouldn't have to display myself in that way in order for my ideas to get any respect.

But then again...Mae West is one of my heroes...

What's a girl to do?