TELL ME MORE
There are some things that come standard to us that I feel we always take for granted. In this country (and I believe we are the only ones who do this) the benefit of having a program comes to us for free. In most other countries, you have to purchase your playbill like you would a pre-show cocktail or snack. But here we having always been privilege to free information. And that is what the playbill is, information.
But recently it has become increasingly clear that American playbills are only offering the bare bones of what is being presented. You have the basics: cast list, bios, production list, and, of course, the last 6-8 pages dedicated to those wonderful donors who make theatre possible. Now I am not saying that we should sacrifice any of these items to the chopping block, but I want more!
Maybe it’s different in the academic world, to see work at Universities, graduate and undergraduate alike — it had more depth, more insights, and all around more information. As a dramaturg, traveling to different schools to see shows, you get ideas for what to include and what is erroneous to the spectator. Yes it is nice to see your name in a playbill if you’ve given funding to make that show possible; it’s the least they can do, and I honestly believe they deserve their inch of bill space; but what about those who’ve given money and time to come see this specific performance? We walk blindly into a dark room to observe images moving before us, with no thought to what it means, or how it came to be in front of us.
I suppose it’s easier with classics or even modern classics, they have more background to give and possibly years of research to condense into a page of program notes. And that page of program notes is all that most professional theatre companies allot their dramaturgs, so as to leave ample space for sponsor ads (also important to the survival of any company). But new plays as well! Even a brief statement of purpose/intent/meaning would make such a difference. It could come from the director, writer, or even from those who selected the plays: what was the development process like?
If we, as a community, could set a standard for playbill content, think how the experience of going to theatre would be enhanced. What would you like to know before a performance?
On Survival Jobs and Surviving
Survival jobs. We all have ’em. Or at least, most of us do. The kinds of jobs and where they fall on the detestable/soul-sucking <———> enjoyable/fulfilling spectrum vary widely, but almost every artist I know either has or has had one in some form or another.
But here’s where I’m gonna share some tough love with you: if your survival job takes precedence in your life, then it’s no longer a “survival job.” The cold, hard truth is: if you aren’t making your showbiz pursuits your number one work priority, you aren’t taking this business seriously enough to make it.
If you turn down auditions because you can’t afford to not work that lunch shift today, if you’re not even submitting for plays because the rehearsal schedule would conflict with your night job, if your nannying gig is routinely leaving you too emotionally exhausted to deal with the stresses of your artistic profession, then the sad news is this: you’re not gonna get out of that survival job any time soon.
I say this with love because I’ve been there. I’ve worked jobs that left me too exhausted to audition; I’ve been in jobs that left me available, but too poor to pay my bills; and I know exactly how hard it is to find a balance between working a day job that brings in enough money and putting your heart, soul, and everything in between into your currently low-to-no-paying profession.
I think finding a truly great day job that has flexible hours, brings in enough money, and leaves you in a decent mood at the end of the day is crucial. That’s why I wrote that starting my own dog business has been the best thing I ever did for my acting career.
But after finding/creating a great (or at least, moderately good) survival job comes just that simple mindset shift of making your artistic pursuits important enough to always take precedence in your life. Yes, even if that means your ConEd payment is going to be late because you gave away that dinner shift.
How do you juggle your survival job and your artistic endeavors?
The Conversion Rate of Movie : Musical
The Film and Musical Theatre Arts are peculiar cousins. I readily admit my own interpretation of the conversion rate from one to the other is skewed. When a movie is made into a musical I often think, Well, how interesting. I wonder how they’re going to do that. But when the transfer goes the other way I can only think, I hope they don’t screw it up.
As a writer, there are a number of issues in adapting a film including rights (which are impossible to get), preconceived notions (which are impossible to get rid of), and finally, the actual endeavor of translating from one medium to another. Daunting.
Last week, I saw the musical La Cage aux Folles for the first time. I had seen The Birdcage and the original French film is in my Netflix queue, though I haven’t watched it yet. (Sidenote on what came first, second, etc.: La Cage aux Folles the play by Jean Poiret (1973), La Cage aux Folles the French film (1978), La Cage aux Folles the musical with book by Harvey Fierstein and music & lyrics by Jerry Herman (1983), and The Birdcage the American adaptation written by Elaine May (1996).) Though the production was fantastic (the Cagelles are redonkulous and Harvey Fierstein and Christopher Sieber steal my heart and hide it some place in Harvey’s bustier), I couldn’t help but think that the story and many of Fierstein’s jokes in the book were better served in the 1996 film. This story is a farce and when you inject music into a farce, it only slows things down instead of constantly gaining momentum towards the inevitable crash.
Conversely, the 2002 adaptation of Hairspray from film to stage was tremendously successful. Watching the original 1998 John Waters film, I can actually feel my ear begging for more musical numbers. The songs are predominantly uptempo and when they aren’t, they’re hilarious ballads, just quirky enough to see John Waters and yet just polished enough to be Broadway. The one hiccup is Motormouth Maybelle’s “I Know Where I’ve Been”, but I think we all forgive its transgression from the style of the show because it’s such an awesome song.
I’m not often thrilled by a stage to film adaptation of a musical. (For the sake of keeping this post under a 100 page count, I’m talking about adaptations of contemporary musicals, not Golden Age.) I was satisfied by the 2007 Hairspray and the 2005 Rent, but definitely not thrilled. And I was actually angry by the 2004 Phantom of the Opera which committed the exact felony I always fear with stage to film transfers: the musical was literally picked up off the stage and set down on film. People, there needs to be some translation here! There is much we accept sitting in a theater that we won’t accept on film. The 2002 film adaptation of Chicago is definitely this teacher’s pet. On stage, it’s totally fine for someone’s defense attorney to enter with several girls brandishing feathers while he sings and taps. On screen, it looks force and ham-handed. So, the film adaptation puts the number in the imagination of Roxy Hart. Um, hi, brilliant.
Film and theatre are equally valid mediums for musicals, but they need to be handled as, coming back to our analogy from the start, two cousins. They both were born with blond hair, but Cousin Suzy likes to cut hers in a bob that frames her face just right and Cousin Sandy likes to wear hers long and curly like Bernadette Peters (because I strive to mention Bernadette whenever possible). Find the right cut for your cousin, the right translation for your musical. And I’ll try to relax my prejudices!
“WHAT IS IT YOU DO?”
How many times have you had to answer the question “What is it you do?” As a Dramaturg I have to answer this question all the time.
In the United States, the Dramaturg’s role is still a mystery to most. We do a great deal! Collaborate in season planning, reading/evaluating new script submissions, choosing translations for production, writing program notes, generating revised scripts, actor packets, talk-backs, etc; and collaborating in new play development. You’ll always see a Dramaturg writing furiously while one eye is on the stage and the other on the script. You can’t just watch a show anymore; you dissect, image by image. You analyze, evaluate, and develop.
Only once have I come across someone who knew what a Dramaturg does. He works in theatre (no surprise) and made a very good observation. Dramaturgs do so much and yet always get paid so little, if anything at all. So this time, what if instead of asking what I do, the question was: why? I like to think of it as a thirst. A thirst for it all and as much theatre as you can get.
What do you say? Is that our curse, being poor but happy? I think that is the best thing that could come from this Green Room blog site: really getting to know theatre artists, what they do and why.
The SM Bag of Tricks
It’s true, the Stage Manager has been referred to as “mom/dad,” “miracle worker,” and, of course, “god” (hence why we are the possessor of the infamous “god-mic”). But even though we organize chaos, calm directors, translate “tech talk” to actors, and all-in-all make magic, we would be nowhere without our “bag of tricks.”
The bottomless bag of Stage Managers is often the shining light in a swirl of darkness. Now, I haven’t been able to oblige all the requests I’ve had (i.e. “you don’t have a rubber chicken in there, do you?” – yes, I’ve been asked), but a next-to-last resort situation sometimes has been saved by the contents of this mystical bag. An SM Kit is as personal as the style in which you take down blocking, but there are also rules… well okay, not “rules,” more like guidelines. I’m going to share with you my must-haves & suggestions to create a kit of your own. Depending on how elaborate the project, the more things you may need. I know these office supplies can be pricy, so don’t be afraid to ask your Production Manager if you have petty cash allowed for necessary office supplies. A rolling backpack/briefcase/small suitcase, though not always a fashion statement, is probably the best case to use.
MUST HAVES:
- A Basic First-Aid Kit (be sure you keep re-filling the aspirin & antacids!)
- ICE PACKS, ICE PACKS, & ICE PACKS (you don’t want to be in a situation where you need one and don’t have one)
- Clipboard
- Plenty of Paper
- Stop Watch (time breaks & runs-throughs)
- Desk Battery-Operated Clock (I always set mine 3-5 mins late to allow for “Actor Grace Period”)
- Highlighters in various colors
- Pens (2 colors)
- Pencils
- More Pencils
- Pencil Sharpener (I prefer to have a hand-held manual, so you don’t make noise if you have to sharpen during rehearsal)
- Post It’s
- Binders
- Stapler
- Extra staples
- Paper Clips
- Binder Clips
- Maglight (mini maglights are best)
- Batteries for your maglight
- Your cell phone charger (what’s an SM with a dead phone?)
- Heavy-Duty 3-hole punch
- Scale Ruler
- Regular Ruler
- Tissues (non-lotion, sometimes people use them to clean their glasses)
- Throat Drops (I prefer Ricola)
- Instant Hand Sanitizer
- Binder Tabs/Section Separators
- Laptop (it’s not the 90’s, besides: it makes the job SO much easier)
SUGGESTIONS:
- Erasers (the kind that go on the back of pencils)
- Erasers (the separate kind)
- Scissors
- Spray Sanitizer (during cold season, you want to clean that public rehearsal room if you’re in a low-budget rehearsal space or an educational setting)
- Battery-Operated high power Pencil Sharpener (for those large casts)
- Camera (take pictures of that set dressing, especially in a rep situation)
- Fold up Printer (extremely convenient)
- Extra copy of the AEA Manual of the Contract you’re working on
- AEA Incident Report Forms
- Prop/Costume Lending Agreement Forms
- Safety Pins
- Spike Tape (Usually your PM will provide this, but it’s good to have some of your own)
- Gaff Tape (for making those clever rehearsal-props)
- Glo-Tape (or… yes, it now exists: GLOW-GAFF!)
- AND, my personal favorite, a Stage Manager’s best friend: The amazing, the wonderful, the all inclusive: POST-IT PEN
What have I missed? What do you have in your SM kit?
In Which The Reflective Artist Introduces Herself and States a General Sense of Purpose.
Why hello there.
I’m the Reflective Artist, and I’m looking forward to joining you in an active conversation about life in the entertainment industry. A little about myself: I wear a lot of different hats (actor, singer, writer, blogger), so it’s important to me that I identify myself as an “artist,” since that word seems to be able to encompass all of those things at once, with no preferential treatment towards one mode of expression over the other. It also helps me feel like I’m not cheating on myself when I’m singing instead of looking for a new monologue, or writing part of my play instead of memorizing yet another Judy Garland song (I know *a lot* of Judy Garland songs). What’s wonderful about the roster of contributors already writing for the Green Room is that they also all wear a lot of different hats, coming at their art and careers from different directions. I feel like I am in good company here.
I’ve always been a philosophical person. Growing up as an only child, I learned to observe the world a little more than participate in it–which was equal parts good and bad. I spent a lot of time thinking, studying, and coming to conclusions about things. This innate sensibility, coupled with an on-going yoga practice for the past several years, finds me processing everything I go through, to see just what occurred, whether the outcome was satisfying or not, and what could be altered for the future. This sense of perspective has proved a great asset for myself, provided I did not become so preoccupied in looking at a thing that I would be incapable of action. (Have I mentioned yet that my favorite play is Hamlet?) Here at the Green Room I hope to share some of my experiences and thoughts with people who may be going through similar situations or have already been there. I hope that by generating and encouraging a candid dialogue about what we’re coming up against in our art–and sometimes in ourselves in regards to our art–that those who participate, even just by reading, will find some comfort and relief in the fact that they are not alone.
“No one is alone, truly. No one is alone.”
(Have I also mentioned that I am a HUGE musical theatre nerd? We’ll get to that at some point.)
Selfishly, I hope engaging in this dialogue myself will help propel me into a little more action than thought. You have to be Fortinbras, you know? He gets everything in the end.
I consider my art and my life works in progress. I’m looking forward to going through some of the process with you.
Here we go.
Difficult Subjects in Rehearsal: Keeping a Safe Space
It’s always hard to be in rehearsal with difficult subjects: illness, historic disaster, abuse, etc. But, I believe the most difficult rehearsals I have ever been in deal with working on a Rape/Attempted Rape Scene. The room is quiet, we double check the door is closed & windows are blocked, and there are serious eyes all around, maybe not making contact with one another and not quite looking at the action of the scene as it is worked. But, it is a necessary moment in certain plays, and requires just as much scene work as the rest of the play.
This is an extremely trying time for the actor. As uncomfortable as this scene is to watch, imagine being the one acting it out. This is not a time in rehearsal to bury yourself in paperwork, Stage Managers, as the actors are counting on you to ensure their safety (both mentally and physically) as the scene is worked. Directors: this is not the time to “leave it to the fight director,” this is not a scene you want to later re-block. And actors: this, above all, is not a time to be unprofessional and forget the nature of your job.
I’ve seen the “attacker” apologize to the “victim” after every new step is taught in the Rape Scene, and continue to apologize after each rehearsal, each run, and each performance. This is not the best idea. You are actors playing a character, just like with every other scene in every other play. You are not actually attacking your colleague. When you take the time to personally apologize, out of character, it dissolves the illusion that the scene was just “pretend.” It can make the “victim” actor self-conscious and could lead the “attacker” to hold back on stage, being unable to separate the play from real life and therefore damaging the dramatic impact of the scene.
Also, in rehearsals, the “attacker” should not be uncomfortable learning the step-by-step fight. The second you say you “cannot” do the move, or show how uncomfortable you are, the “victim” will then have to take more upon their shoulders and try to hold the scene together, and no actor should have to hold it together for two people (especially in these sensitive scenes). This is also true if the “victim” asks to “stop, stop, I’m not ready” ::deep breath:: “Okay, now I am – wait” ::deep breath:: “Can we mark it?” This will, in turn, make the “attacker” self-conscious and take you both out of the scene.
I recently was in a rehearsal that dealt with such a scene. It’s a new work, and the scene was not present in the first rehearsal draft of the script (therefore, the actors were not aware of the scene upon accepting the part). The victim – in lingerie (and rehearsing in such), and the attacker – a blind character, carry a dramatic climax scene to an incestuous molestation/rape. A fight director was brought in to choreograph this unique and difficult fight. Not once was the room uncomfortable. Even when the fight director had to step in for both characters while teaching the fight, both actors showed absolutely no sense of being uneasy. Even after one minor injury caused us to stop while an actor was being iced, the return to the work was immediate, professional, and safe.
Because of the professionalism of the actors, the work was done more quickly and efficiently, and will only have to be re-visited as a scene for typical work. The fight will not have to be “taken down a notch” because the actors are uncomfortable. The scene plays the way it was meant to: shocking and uncomfortable to watch. The Broadway-experienced Fight Director even commented and thanked the actors for being two of the most professional actors he’s worked with on such a scene.
In short, when dealing with a sensitive subject, prepare yourself mentally, remember you are playing a character and the attack is not actually happening, and remain professional for the benefit of everyone in the room and involved in the project (including yourself).
The best thing I ever did for my acting career was…
For awhile now, when people ask me about my “survival job,” AKA my doggy bed ‘n breakfast business, I have been telling them that starting my own business has been the best thing I ever did for my acting career.
I mean, I get paid to do something I love (cuddle with doggies), and my schedule is flexible to the point that I NEVER have to say no to an audition/rehearsal/performance/etc. Plus, I’m finally making enough money to be able to really afford regular voice lessons, new headshots, dance class…it’s the perfect gig.
But then I started wondering, is it weird for the best thing I ever did for my acting career to be totally non-acting-related? What would other actors’ answers be? And so I asked around. And boy, did my colleagues, both online and off, have some great answers. See for yourself.
The best thing I ever did for my acting career was…
- @MysteryActor: “…taking a break from LA to find out what was truly important and a sustainable path to authentic happiness.”
- @ErinCronican (AKA The Idealistic Actor): “…taking my Equity card when I had the chance. And I got that after giving my business card to a director at a restaurant.”
- @CandiceOden: “…after training, meeting @ErinCronican. No joke.”
- Meghan Allen: “…relax and stop trying so hard to make it a ‘career” that I forgot why I started doing this in the first place.”
- @DavepowersNYC: …”to quote George Clooney from MICHAEL CLAYTON, “You’ve got great cards to play.” Always remember that. Your heart is what got you here. Your heart is what people connect with. FOLLOW YOUR HEART. Follow your HEART — that was, is, and always will be the best thing.”
- @Asooc: “…stop working for free and realize I am a commodity which is needed and worth the price.”
- Elisa Pupko Pope: …”to learn how to continually challenge myself. Every time I do something that scares and challenges me I learn and grow so much as a performer and a person — every class I take that is hard, every audition I do that intimidates me, etc.”
- @CRGutekunst: “…starting. The first step makes all the difference!”
- Blair Erin Waite: “…not listen to the stereotypes and the snobs.”
- @HaroldPDX: “…to start using Performer Track, it helped change the way I thought of my career — I thought of it more like a business because it trained me to do so.”
- @Garyploski: “…enrolling in an MFA program part-time while taking undergrad theatre classes, too.”
- Crista Marie Jackson: “…join the circus.” [Editor’s note: She’s not kidding!]
- @FreshHubby: “…doing anything others said “Don’t Bother.” Moving to L.A., sending headshots to agents — to succeed you must be the anomaly.”
- @ErinGilbreth: “…to never stop training. I’m learning and getting better all the time.”
Great answers, huh? And so varied. I guess I am a little bit of a weirdo then for my answer not being at all related to acting, but I was surprised to see how many of these answers were more about a mindset, rather than specifically related to showbiz. I guess that just goes to show how important your attitude is in this industry. Something to think about, for sure.
And since this is my blog post, I get to cheat a little and share what some of my runner-up answers would be:
“…taking quitting off the table as a viable option.”
“…spending some time helping out with casting sessions. It really helped me to take casting decisions less personally.”
“…to think of each day and decision to move forward as a small victory, rather than try to make huge career leaps all at once. Success is not built in a single day, but in small decisions made over decades.”
Did any of these actors’ answers hit home for you? What would your answer be — what is the best thing you ever did for your acting career?
**Special thanks to all of the incredible actors who took the time to answer this question for me!**











