Unscripted - A Blog for Actors - Backstage

Why Acting School Is Important

I have a very simple thought to share today.

One of the first things I learned in acting school was about creation, and what it means to create something with others.

I remember wanting to bang my head against the wall when in my very first college movement class, the teacher told us we were going to be "exploring the space"

"Oh great", I thought. "I came to college to re-enact my least favorite part of high school drama."

"Exploring the space" in my former drama classes always made me feel like an asshole.  Why?  Probably because high schoolers are assholes.  Or, to be more specific (and nicer), self conscious.  Particularly when it comes to bodies.  And of course, most kids in high school drama don't necessarily want to be actors.  Just getting on a stage is a big step for them, never mind pretending to be an animal.

A Story From A Reader

Last week I posted a series of photos of shoes I came upon in New York City that appeared to be missing their feet, and asked people to imagine how the shoes came to be without their owners.

It's been a joy to read everyone's responses.  As promised, I am going to share the stories here.  This first one comes from Lakshmi Iyer who writes from Portland, Oregon.  Here is the photo she chose and her interpretation:

Waltz on a sidewalk

The Case of The Missing Feet

We already know about my obsession with shoes...

... but have you ever seen just one shoe in the street?

I'm sure you have, as it seems to be quite a common occurance.  But how does it happen?  How does a person lose just one shoe?

Growing up I would often notice them by the side of the road; one-shoe castaways that begged a story of explanation from their previous owner.  Where was it's partner, and where was the foot it belonged too?  Where was that foot now?  Probably in a different pair of shoes, or else barefoot, since wearing one shoe is arguably less comfortable than wearing no shoes at all.

Over the past couple of weeks I have encountered an unusually high number of shoes without the feet they belong to.  Sometimes alone, and sometimes in pairs.  I know each of them must have a story, and therefore felt compelled to document them in some way.  So here - I present you with a series of shoes and the questions, "where are their feet?"

Take Note

It's 2012 and my love affair with New York City continues.  

This wonderful city and I took a break from each other last week - breaks continue to be a necessary part of a healthy relationship between the two of us.  Sometimes New York makes me tired, but absence makes the heart grow fonder; going away always means that I am happy to return.

I came back with a quieter mind, rested body and new awareness for this amazing place I live in.  In the past several days I have been taking the opportunity to take it in.

Inside the Actor's Studio Apartment

I am lucky to have been with my family over the past few days and I have been... 

... sleeping

... eating

... skiing(!)

... and reflecting

 ... because that just seems like something to do at the end of the year.

Some of Best Things Anyone has Ever Said to Me (Part II)

Continuing on from Part I... some of the best things I've ever heard and continue to think about on a regular basis.

"Don't Be An Asshole"

I know.  Simple and self-explanatory.  One of my good friends makes this dedication at the beginning of every yoga practice.  Don't be an asshole.  I love it because it's all about the little things.  Don't be an asshole, pick up your trash.  Don't be an asshole, hold the door for someone else.  Don't be an asshole, give up your seat on the train.  Don't be an asshole, when someone smiles at you, smile back.  Decency is contagious.

"You're a slowburn"

After graduating college one of my former teachers caught me in the middle of a audition-related meltdown.  After talking me down from my self-indulgent tower, he told me I needed to show myself some respect and have a little patience.  My process and path are unique to me, and I needed to understand that I am never the first horse out of the gate.  I've got this long fuse, see, that burns slowly and consistantly and always leads to dynamite.  So I shouldn't worry that I'm not blowing up quite yet.  That's just how I work.  Whatever the timing is, it's right.

Some of Best Things Anyone has Ever Said to Me (Part I)

I am lucky to have many wonderful, wise and inspirational people in my life.  I think about them all the time, and even if I don't see them on a regular basis, I can always hear their voices in my head.  It takes a special person to tell you the truth, and to tell you what you need to hear, not just what you want to hear.  Here are some of those truths, aka, the bestmostawesometotallyrighton things anyone has ever said to me.

"Stay Innocent"  

One of my scene study teachers at school said this to us the first say of class.  Stay Innocent.  Not in the virginal, don't do anything bad ever kind of way, but in the excited, not-jaded, curious and passionate kind of way.  Don't assume you have it all figured out.  Don't let the world make you a victim (or a criminal.)

Fascinating Person Of The Week

Do you collect characters?  I do.  

One of the many reasons I love NYC are the abundant and rich people-watching opportunities.  A great deal of my character research happens inside the New York City Transit System.  It's awesome (though I have been guilty of listening to other people's conversations a little too intently.)

But what about historical figures?  I fantasize about which one of them I might one day get to play in a biopic, but I also think it's important to note them as important characters.  We remember and study them because they were significant in history and no matter who they were or what they did, they somehow captured people's attention.  And that's our job as actors, right?

I saw J. Edgar recently and even though the majority of the film's 137 minutes is devoted to Hoover's role as head of the FBI, the person I walked away wanting to know more about was Emma Goldman - a Russian born anarchist deported from the United States during the Red Scare.

More Theatre on the Internet

In light of my post last week and as part of the development of the transmedia piece I am working on, I went in search of more online theatre.  

It's a funny thing to look for because I am not entirely sure how to define online theatre.  I know - it's that epic conversation about "what is theatre" and we'll never come to a consensus on it. HOWEVER, I do think it's appropriate to differentiate between film streamed online, television online, webseries or webisodes, video blogs and theatre on the Internet.

 One of the things I found that I felt I could comfortably place in this small and specific category was the livestream from Joe's Pub at the Public.  Sure, they have music too, but they also have performances like The Civilians: Let me Ascertain You that are pretty easily defined at theatrical events.

Acting on Facebook

I'm in a transmedia piece right now.   The project integrates film (to appear as webisodes on the Internet), social media and live theatre.

So far the process has been challenging and utterly fascinating. One of the ideas we have been exploring is Facebook as a performance space.  Social media is all about doing, right?  In order to assert your presence on the Internet, you have to follow through on an action.  Each time you "post", "like", "comment", "tag", "check in", "update" etc, you are building your online character.  You are performing.

The characters we have developed for this piece are all online now.  They all have their own Facebook, Twitter and Google+ accounts.  Some of them have blogs.  They are all connected to one another online, even if they don't necessarily know each other well in their "real" lives.  

As we launch into our beta mode for how this world we are creating is actually going to function, we have been working hard to generate online content for our characters.  The more we post things online, comment on one another's statuses and begin connecting our characters to people in the real world, the greater presence they have.  The real-er they become.

Does this give them more power?

Acting is Like Flossing a Rhino

... this post is inspired by a list of similes by the wonderful Matthew Freeman on writing a play.

After re-reading them all today, I feel it appropriate to suggest the following:

Acting is like having an awesome dream, and then going to sleep every night hoping you'll have the same dream again.

Acting is like riding a dragon to school everyday... where you're taught that dragons don't exist.

Acting is like pantsing yourself.

Acting is like punching a really soft, cushy wall.

Acting is like speaking 11 languages fluently, and then going to a country where none of them are spoken.

Acting is like spending 20 minutes looking for your keys until you realize they're in your pocket.

Acting is like trying to find a four leaf clover... while being pursued by a herd of bison.

Acting is like feeding steak to a vegetarian.

Acting is like flossing a rhino.

Acting is like, for realz.

Acting is like hijacking a porsche and the purposefully driving it into a wall.

Red Stilettos, Vintage Pumps and Combat Boots

Shoe Fetish.

I have one.

I can do without that dress, I don't really need another white blouse right now, I won't buy those jeans unless they majorly go on sale and I'll just keep wearing that same coat I've had since I was in high school, but the shoes...

It's a well known fact that shoe shopping is therapuetic.  Who needs a shrink when you can go to DSW?  In that sense, perhaps I have saved myself a lot of money.  When I am sad, or feeling unusually anxious, or have somehow misplaced my self esteem, a really impractical pair of heels can turn everything around. 

Of course, four inch platforms, studded clogs and patent leather boots might seem like truly ridiculous and unneccessary purchases.  I live in New York.  I walk everywhere.  I do not work at a desk so there is very little sitting involved in my life.  I can just imagine my mother saying, "they're awesome, but when are you going to wear them?"

How to Punch a Wall

I am going to talk about something very important.

Wall Punching.

Even the best of us find ourselves overcome with the sudden furious and immature urge to beat the crap out of something.  To avoid getting hit back, we turn to inanimate objects.  Pillows, stuffed animals and couch cushions are the frequent and obvious victims of these erratic bursts of outrage - not only are they void of any offensive skills, they are weak on the defense as well.  Being completely soft and plush, the hitter suffers no repercussions. 

There are times, however, when a person becomes consumed with a mighty rage he or she needs to release in the form of sucker punching, but finds his or herself out of range of anything cushy.  What happens next might seem like an act of pure idiocy, but it is, in fact, a deep expression of frustration, excess testosterone and/or inebriation.  

Why does a person hit a wall, you may ask?

I'm Not Daniel Day Lewis

What do you say when someone asks you to talk about your acting process?

I will admit without shame that I have fantasized about the day when James Lipton asks me how I prepared for my oscar winning role...

... but now?

I was asked recently to talk about how I prepared for the role I played in Percival's Big Night... unless I was Daniel Day Lewis and didn't want to reveal the secrets of my acting process.

I am definitely not DDL.  There is nothing magical or secret about my acting technique.  But I do find it hard to talk about.  Why?

I think mostly in pictures.

A Playlist For You

Music has a huge impact on my mood.  Screw xanax.  Just give me my iPod, please.

Music can literally be the difference between getting work done and putting it off for another time, getting up in the morning or not, and going to sleep at night... or not.

Plus, if it weren't for portable tunes, I wouldn't exercise.  Ever.

And who would ever clean their homes if they couldn't turn on the radio or cd player?  

If it weren't for music, I would be fat, dirty and probably be significantly less intelligent.  Music helps me understand something about life that I might otherwise not even think about.  Also, I really take to heart that whole idea of classical music helping your brain retain information. I listened to a lot of Debussy and Bach while I was studying for my exams in high school and I think I will let the composers take credit for the high scores I got.  Studying music theory also made math easier for me.  I swear I couldn't do any math in my head at all until I learned to read sheet music.  I know that sounds crazy.  But it's not.  If you want an explanation of the mechanics of it, read Musicophilia by Oliver Sacks.

Must Do's: The Drama Bookshop

The Drama Bookshop is on every actor's list as an "essential" place.  

The reasons are simple.  

1.  It's full of plays.

2. There are chairs where you can sit and read all of those plays.

3.  There are helpful industry related books (agent and manager lists, monologue books, acting technique, etc.)

4. There are chairs where you can sit and read all of those helpful books.

5.  There is a bathroom.  (Do not underestimate the value of this in NYC)

6.  Sometimes awesome people like David Ives will sit and answer your questions.

Making it Happen

It was almost cool enough in my apartment this morning to start the day with hot coffee.

Almost.

I always love this time of year when summer starts to feel like fall - the end of one thing means the beginning of something else.  

 People start coming back from vacation, physically and mentally, the “New Season” starts getting into gear and there is an exciting feeling of “let’s get this shit done” in the atmosphere.

 It’s also that time of year when you start to come back from the haze of summer - maybe something about the air being cooler let’s me think more clearly, or maybe the academic calendar is so ingrained in my system that I will automatically start waking up earlier and craving the feeling of crisp, clean notebook paper each September - whatever it is, I feel the impulse to make lists, check thing off of them, “go back to work.”

I Found Him! (Ibsen, I mean)

Here he is!

Ibsen lived in a beautiful apartment in Oslo the last several years of his life.  It is said that he would write for two hours every morning from 9:30 - 11:30 and then walk down the street to this place...

Discovering Ibsen in Norway

Right now, I'm in Norway.

I'm here for research and development on a production of Peer Gynt I am involved in.

Ain't no use in cryin'...

... stay away from me.  Standin' in the kitchen...

... And cleaning up the soymilk I just spilled all over the floor.  And since there's no use in crying (thanks, Rolling Stones) I think I just have to laugh a little.

I remember when I was little being absolutely and completely horrified when I knocked over a glass of something at the dinner table, or worse, at a restaurant.  That awful thud, and then seeing liquid instantly EVERYWHERE.  No matter how little juice was in that glass, it would somehow manage to get on everything and everyone, especially whoever happened to be wearing white.

Then I remember reaching an age when I was no longer the spiller, but observed the same terror stricken look in my younger brother's faces as they knocked over cup after cup.  I foolishly thought that spilling your drink was just something you grew out of and that once I became an adult, I would never have to suffer through it again.