Unexpected End

Before I mention Saturday night's performance of "The King is But a Man" I need to mention that my matinee, yesterday, was cancelled due to weather. Ice and snow, to be exact. A snow storm I feel compelled to point out was not even on the radar earlier in the week. Such, it seems, is my luck with such things. (Especially since this show was originally intended for late autumn of last year.)

Regardless of how a show goes, it is difficult to not have some closure. True, I had virtually no set for this show, but I would have gotten a sense of completion of my mission had I been able to perform all three of my long-awaited (by me) performances at that venue. That sense of completion would have been capped off by my putting the precious few items from my set back in their respective places in the venue. Now they will merely be put away by the next play which will rehearse tonight. (And with whom I had to share the stage over the last five weeks, unexpectedly, as both shows rehearsed in the same time frame, hence my late nights.) This pains me somewhat.

As does the fact that in the end, so few people came to see the show. It is difficult enough when one spend six weeks or so practicing someone else's play with other people under the guidance of someone else, only to have few people come watch it. To spend over a year creating your own work, all by yourself, to have so few people express an interest in it is even more of a gut check in some ways. Especially when, like me, you did everything in your power to promote the project.

I am not ashamed to admit that most of my creative projects have audiences in mind. I of course get something out of my writings and performances, and I strive to do well in both endeavors. I can be proud of my work in my own right, and I am for "The King is But a Man" in both writing and the two performances I delivered of it. But unlike some, possibly more enlightened souls, I rarely write or perform in a vacuum. That is to say I write so people will read my words, and be entertained, moved, forced to think by them. The same with  my acting. Better people than I can write novels that nobody will ever read, that nobody is intended to read, and be fine with that. I know actor who can perform for empty houses all the time, and get by on just the fulfillment of a job well done. But that isn't me.

This isn't to say I seek validation for my whole existence through applause. Yet this stuff is not easy to do, folks. And I imagine plenty of people in other service oriented fields, (which is how I think of the arts to some extent) would feel similar as I do now, if nobody partook of their efforts. One who cooks a lavish meal, and has nobody show up to eat it is probably not celebrating the fact that all of it is headed to the dumpster at the end of the evening. Food is to be eaten. Words are to be read. Music, listened and danced to.

So I don't feel guilty for my disappointment.

As for Saturday night itself, it was a better experience than Friday night. There were only seven people in the crowd, but they were a responsive group. They laughed at some of the jokes, and seemed generally interested in the story I was trying to tell, by way of my own words and those of Shakespeare. I received several compliments after the performance. Though I did stumble once or twice in some of the speeches again, I do believe I corrected myself in such a way that nobody was the wiser in the audience. Making mistakes still irks me to no end, but it's more tolerable when the flow of the scene is left in tact, and I believe that it was.

Mistakes aside, I am satisfied with my performance on Saturday. My energy, (which was flagging a bit in the evening before I got to the theatre) picked up once the shoe go under way. Responsive audiences help with that. And I've said before I'd rather have ten people in the audience who are into the show, than thirty who are passive and unmoved. I don't know if the audience on Saturday totally made up for Friday night, but it was certainly a relief to have a few more people.

One member of the audience, a friend of mine, expressed regret that more people had not come to see the show. "They don't know what they're missing," she said. The same person, along with her companion for the evening also told me of their hope that this weekend would not be the final time I performed the piece. I mentioned that I had always intended for this to be just a premiere, but to then take it around to other venues, if they would have me.

To be honest, however, I am no longer sure if I should. Having so little return on  my investment, mixed with other difficulties during this process took a lot out of me. On top of a string of creative failures in this area over the years, it has left me feeling rather flat. True, it is all still raw for now, and my mind may change as I get some distance from the experience. Yet right now, I don't feel I have the energy to go through cold calling venues, convincing them to give me a try, have the majority of them say "no" and have little interest from audiences in any venue that happens to say less. The experience of the original venue has nearly sapped me dry. Do I have it in me to continue this elsewhere? Is it even a marketable product, or has this experience proved that nobody wants to see this?

I don't know. I've been asking myself these questions all weekend, and will probably continue to do so for some time. I have other creative projects of my own in the pipeline for this year, and they will take their own large amounts of energy. (Especially if they don't succeed as planned.) I may not be able to pursue all of it, now that I've taken a hit like this. Again, I'll have to think on it for a while. The iron is certainly not hot coming off of this weekend, so there is no need to strike quickly on this decision...

I have a regular play that I am editing, and I've been asked about the possibility of directing something locally. Those two projects are the next two immediately demanding my attention. (If I take on the directing job that is. I must read the script.) Beyond those, I don't know.

This Week in Rehearsals...

I opted to cover both rehearsals this week in a single post. Namely because nothing influential enough to affect the overall progress happened either day.

I will say my friend, and executive director of the Black Box Arts Center took some pictures of me this week, in hopes of creating a poster for the show. When that happens, I'll see if I can post it here. She says she isn't very experienced in such things, though is certainly more so than I am. in the end, if the posters exist and have the correct information, I'm sure they will be just fine.

Rehearsal on Thursday felt a bit off a few times. Truth be told, had it been a performance it would have still been acceptable, but I stumbled in places I usually didn't stumble. I was, and am, somewhat annoyed at myself for this, but then I have to remind myself that this is like any other show; there will be less than stellar rehearsals. True, the show goes on in two weeks, but nothing happened in the rehearsal on Thursday that will derail that. It just wasn't my smoothest run through, whether because of fatigue or other factors. I'll review some of the speeches between now and my next rehearsal (Tuesday) and do better.

I admit, because of the cold, and the lateness of the hour I have to rehearse (sharing the venue with another show), I still haven't given myself a full intermission at rehearsals. I "get on with it" after a brief rest between acts. This may not sound like a big deal, but I should by now try to rehearse in the same circumstances that a performance will be in, and the performance will have an intermission. I want to practice resting without gearing down or falling asleep at the half, or something.

The running time of each half deviates no more than two or three minutes each night, even on the night that was a bit off. This is always good news. It means I'm gaining consistency.

I could stand to up the energy a bit in the second half, though, I must admit. (Another reason to give myself full intermission during rehearsal.) I will also probably have to flip the work lights on and off myself, so I'll probably practice that a few times as well in the coming two weeks.

Two weeks!

Two Shows, No Shows

Believe me, I am working on a title for the one man show, so I won't always have to refer to it as such. I have some ideas but I just want a little more time to think them over before I start using one in public. (I want to make sure none of them are currently in use already, too.)

By whatever title it shall be known, the show is going well. I have begun committing the Shakespearean passages to memory. I have a long way to go, of course, having only started earlier this month. But I'm off book or near to it for about four speeches, all from Richard II. I've opted to memorize the Shakespeare first, and then work on committing my own words to memory later, though there's a decent chance my own words will be more of a guide than a precise script for a while. I imagine as I begin to rehearse it regularly the best selection of words will emerge, but until then, I'll keep an outline in mind and let the words of the base character come to me.

But like I said, that's in the future for now. I plan to memorize all of the Shakespeare in the first section, then add my own words, and rehearse just the first section for a while, before moving on to the next section's Shakespeare followed by my own words and so forth.

My own words as written are decent, I dare say, after about three drafts. But the more familiar i get with the Shakespeare speeches, the more meaning and nuance I find within same. (Which is, of course, what often happens to a lot of people when studying Shakespeare's works.) I consider this a positive development, one that will enhance the overall experience of my show, for both myself and the audience.

The purpose of the piece, as I have said, is to humanize the kings of the history plays. Naturally each of them has their own human moments within their respective plays. That, I dare say, was one of Shakespeare's purposes, so I am not revolutionizing anything here. But my goal is to sort of gather (almost) all of them together in one place, and present their humanity as a unified concept to my audiences. Furthermore, my aim is to do so without giving the appearance of a lecture. That is why humanizing each king is so important; if they remain merely literary devices or monoliths from which I cull things to recite in a room, I might as well not have a one man show at all.

My other major theater-writing project continues as well. I mean to begin writing the actual script sometimes next month. For that I must consider the typical traits of good theatre: dialogue, character, dynamic, pacing, etc. I know right off, at least for now, that it will not fir into the precise theatrical structure insisted upon by so many critics and professors of the theatre. But as with my one man show, I feel strongly that if interesting characters say memorable things within the course of a play, one is already 80% successful as a playwright. i intend to make my characters, by way of their lines, missed by audiences at the end of the production. I can't wait to get started on that.

As for acting, I am sadly still within one of the biggest droughts of my life. Having not been in a play as an actor in over 18 months, I begin to feel part of my artistic side atrophying. Doubt and worry as to my readiness for my next role, whenever that may be, creeps in from time to time. Despite my increasingly busy writing schedule I may be forced to look outside of my usual venues and start auditioning for less desirable roles just to keep my head in the game, as it were. I have no idea who is producing what lately, but I am now looking around. I haven't looked outside the usual venues in years.

One Man Show: Progress Report

The other day I sat down and delivered my one man show out loud to myself, in its entirety for the first time. (Stage directions included.) It took one hour and 20 minutes, which is quite close to ideal this early on.

That time will of course expand once stage movement and other performance factors are considered. But that time will also contract once I become familiar with the text and can deliver it by memory. So I'm thinking an hour ten to an hour twenty is close to the actual final performance time, barring any major changes I would make to the script.

Right now, I don't foresee any major changes to it. The sequence works and the nature of the non-Shakespearean speeches have a good mixture of information, reflection and entertainment, which is key.

There are many Shakespearean speeches in the show. That's the point, after all, to examine the kings in the histories. But if the line I deliver between those speeches ring false or put people to sleep, it simply wont matter how well I deliver the Shakespeare.

I still need to evolve the nature of the base-character for the same reasons. He has to be someone with whom an audience wants to spend time for that hour and 20 minutes, without being someone that overshadows the drama of the Shakespeare. I had a vision in my head of what sort tone to set with who I am calling "The Actor", and my first full-reading showed me it could work in some ways, and might not work in others. Part mad-scientist and part Olivier and part Woody Allen is how he comes off right now. Nothing intrinsically wrong with any of those components in their own right, but the balance between them could probably be adjusted. That's what I will be working on the most in the coming sessions.

Through it all, I think of lines off the cuff that would sound better than the ones I have written down, or at least enhance them. I will eventually write down some of these, I suppose, and will continue to polish and tweak the writing. But the general flow seems to be in place now, and seems it will work, once individual sentences are polished.

Long way to go so far. But, to paraphrase a famous observation, it is perhaps the end of the beginning. Keep coming back here to see how it progresses. I might even have an official title for it the next time I post...

Only the Lonely

A one-person show, or perhaps more accurately in this context, a "monodrama", is something I have wanted to try on stage for a while. Scores of examples abound, from Chekov's one-act, On the Harmful Effects of Tobacco, to the full length Give 'Em Hell, Harry! by Samuel Gallu. There are also collections such as Neil LaBute's Bash, which consists of several one acts, some of which have only one character.

I even have a few ideas in my own head for this type of show.

I have never attended such a presentation, and I don't know if it would be better to see one before trying it myself, or seeing it first before watching one. Certainly performing one myself would forever instill in me a greater appreciation for any one else who took it on.

Understand that it isn't ego which feed my desire to appear on stage alone. Nor is it a disdain for other actors. A performance of this variety would be twice as hard in some ways as any other show. Not just because all of the lines go to one person, and that person has no recourse from other actors should the stumble. But also because 100% of the time must the attention of the audience is completely on you.

In a standard show, a person has some break not only from their lines, but from the symbolic spotlight. If they are in the background for a scene, they of course should always be in character, because someone at some point could be looking at them. Yet even so the majority of the attention, expectations, and scrutiny are on others who at the time are the focus of the scene.

One doesn't get such a break with a one person show.

It's the same for an audience. Any variety in the experience must come from one actor, and the parts of the story he is telling at any given time. It is a delicate balance in a one person show to prevent the audience from being bored with you. For if they are tired of the one person in the show for even a moment, the entire production has failed.

This type of play does have its advantages, however, not the least of which is the great challenge to one's skills as an actor. If one can pull of such a show, that says a great deal about one's talents. And one will come out of the experience a stronger actor, almost no matter what happens.

Plus, 100% of the pacing and control would be in a single actor's hands. No adjustments to the decisions, mistakes or presence of another actor (of whatever talents) would have to be made during the course of the show or a scene. If I were the star of a one man show, I would only have to answer to me. Despite the extra "dangers" and work of such a situation, that freedom does hold a certain appeal for me, I must confess.

Without any figures and studies to back it up, my observation has been that community theatres rarely if ever produce such shows. Could it be that companies fear the talent pools are too small in a community to find an amateur with the chops to pull it off? Or do the think that patrons of a community theatre expect a more traditional, or at least larger experience than can be offered by a one person show? My guess is that both these fears, and others explain the lack of monodramas at the community level.

Yet I hold out hope that one day I shall be cast in a local theatre's one show experiment, should anybody offer it. Or perhaps I can commit such a show to memory, and seek a chance to do a special presentation outside of a theatre's season. The same is possible if I write my own and pitch it. It would be more difficult to get the chance where I am, on the community level, but I don't count it out.

Have you ever performed in a one person show? Have you even seen one at the community level? If so I'd like to hear you stories.