Is the Play the Thing? Or the Character?

The last time I addressed the notion of trying out for a show, even if you are not in love with every single aspect of it. While I of course stand by what I said, at some point in time once you are committed to being in a show, a decision must be made. I actually consider this one of the most important decisions an actor has to make. Not merely in any given show, but in one’s approach to acting in general.

It boils down to this often-controversial question: Should you be more devoted to your character or your show?

Two schools of thought are applicable here. One that says every moment you are on stage is designed merely to move the specific plot forward. In this viewpoint the actor on stage is a means by which a specific end is reached. (See also, David Mamet’s school of acting.) In this view, the show as a whole takes precedence over your feelings for your character.

The other school of thought dictates that any given moment the only thing an actor can control, the one thing he can own, is his character. It is the aspect of the show that he will spend the most time with, get to know the most, and of course will bring to life. Productions are symphonies of coordinated individual performances brought into harmony by a good director, and universal desire on the part of the cast. In this view, an actor’s particular character, and his relationship thereto reigns supreme. Call this the Laurence Olivier school. Or, in case you have not guessed it by now, the Ty Unglebower school.

Indeed, I am of the character-based persuasion in such a “showdown.”

Even if you love the whole show you are in, I maintain the importance of giving your character a bit more attention and affection than the entire arc of the production. An audience can afford to invest everything into the entire experience. The actor while in that show, cannot.

Why is this? It’s because I feel an actor should ignore the overall success of the play. On the contrary, every actor should have the success of the show as a priority Yet the best way to achieve that goal is to focus on nurturing your character, because no play is just one story. A play is a collection of individual stories, about individual characters. Any given character’s story may not be the focus of the play, or even of a given scene. Their story may not even get mentioned in the script, but their story exists to be told, if to nobody else but the actor portraying him.

I’m reminded of that ancient theatre story of the man who is playing a torch bearer in Romeo and Juliet. His friend asks him one day what the play is about. He answers, “Well, it’s all about this servant that runs around carrying a torch all night.”

Theatre may or may not be realistic, as compared to life. But it should at least be familiar. Even a farce should represent elements in humanity that we can relate to as an audience. This, I argue, is only achieved when, as in life, each character is empowered to control only his own circumstances, motivated by what he wants or needs. If an actor is constantly focused on how his actions and performance will set up some payoff five scenes from now, the performance loses something.

An actor should be aware of both the power and responsibility of assuming an identity not his own for two hours. This cannot be done when he considers himself a mere cog in the turning machinery of a larger vision. His story must be incorporated into that vision, not held hostage by it. As in life, tension between people, good and bad, makes things happen.

By no means is this view universal, and as I mentioned, this can be a controversial topic among theatre people, amateur and professional. Actors and playwrights and directors. Yet I have always believed in the old adage that the stage is an actor’s medium. I don’t shy away from that now, and I hope that you will not either.

(For further consideration of both of these “schools,” I recommend True and False: Heresy and Common Sense for the Actor by David Mamet for one side, and On Acting by Laurence Olivier for the other.)

(Originally appeared on shownizradio.net on September 16, 2009. This version has been edited to fit the medium.)

Road Trip!

It is not always possible, but as an actor, if you get the chance to be a part of a traveling show, even a show you are otherwise not in love with, I advise you to grab the chance.

There are many advantages to being part of a show that is taken to several venues, in addition to the fun and adventure associated with road tripping and acting.

To begin with, it is the perfect way to put to the test something that I have often spoke about in my blog, and that is being ready to perform a show well under just about any conditions. Traveling to different venues keeps an actor on his toes, as it were, preventing him from becoming too comfortable with the specific stage, lights, house, or other accouterments of his home theatre. (Or anything theatre, if the show has no permanent home.)

A second practical advantage to most traveling productions is that they are stretched out over a longer period of time than your standard community production. While the latter is often only two weekends, the former, due to the logistics and expense often take place over the course of a month or more, with performances spread out. The longer you have to be in a show, and the more chances you have to go over it and perfect it, the better the product becomes. Like wine, many shows get better with age.

And finally, shows that are taken on the literal road provide a greater chance of getting to know one’s cast mates and crew. The nature of travel, and all of the benefits and disadvantages of the same, tend to enhance that sense of camaraderie and teamwork among groups of people engaged in a common task. I have said many times here and elsewhere that while bonding personally with fellow actors is not required, it certainly increases the chances of a show being excellent in all ways. And whatever makes the show better is good policy.

Of course, each of these things can happen in a standard show that does not travel. If they could not, there would not be much community theatre going on around the country. These advantages are not exclusive to a traveling show. However, they seem to be common threads in nearly all examples of road shows.

One of my greatest theatre experiences, one that convinced me I wanted to continue doing this acting thing far into the future of my life, was in fact a road show. Not only that, the production was a rather mediocre experience in many ways while we remained at our home theatre. The transcendent quality did not show up until we took it to other venues in the area. And I feel that is due in large part to the presence of all three of the facets of traveling shows I have mentioned.

They are not easy to come by at the community level. And of course this only works for specific types of shows; it works best for shows that have minimal sets. But such plays are out there. Companies that are willing to travel are out there. And if not, perhaps you can be the one who suggests such an idea to a local theatre production. You don’t have to travel to Europe for this to work. Any area in this country is full of city parks, community centers, and high schools that make perfect destinations for the traveling show. The extra work and expense can sometimes be more than made up for by the richness of the experience.

(Originally appeared on showbizradio.net on August 19th, 2009. Appropriate edits have been made.)

Pre-Show Rituals: Yours and Everyone Else's.

I have never yet met an actor who sacrifices a live chicken before a show. Thank heaven for that. Nonetheless I make it a point to ask fellow actors, with whom I am not familiar, if this, or anything else more realistic, is part of their opening night, or pre-curtain ritual. That way I know not to interrupt it by accident.

Because you see not all rituals are going to be obvious to you. A person kneeling in a corner with their head down makes what they are up to pretty clear. But what about the person that is merely standing in the doorway on tip-toe, trying to touch the top of the door frame? Or the person bouncing on the balls of their feet in the middle of the room? Or the man walking around with a single penny in his hand? (All three are examples from actual life, and the man with the penny is me.)

It is easy for those of us without such rituals, or for whom rituals are only small informal affairs, to pay little to no attention to those rites that others have developed over the course of a career. After all, which should they stand in a door way like that, or what’s it to us if we are blocking their view of the parking lot from where we are standing? Acting is acting, right? Well, yes and no.

The fact of the matter is, every single human being, no matter how cynical or secular, succumbs to ritual at some point in time. It just does not always pertain to performing. But whether it be for mental, spiritual or superstitious purposes, all of us have parts of our day and our lives wherein we are very particular about how we proceed; in ways that otherwise would not appear to affect the outcome of the action we are taking, but are, nonetheless, important to us as we do them. For some, acting is one of those activities before which a ritual must be conducted.

I do my best to not be inaccessible when I am in a pre-show routine. And in fact, the nature of the venue and the shows I have been in over the last few years has made some of my previous rituals a bit less practical. One should be able to adapt. Yet that will not be the case for everyone. Some people are just very particular about their rituals. As a cast mate, you need to respect them. And even if you do not care much for the actor, an overall sense of duty to the show should dictate that you stay out of the way of someone’s ceremonies.

Which is why it is always good idea to ask. It will prevent you from interrupting anything, (which I have done once, sadly), but it will also show the other person that you respect them enough as at least a performer to ask the question…even if they have no rituals they need to be allowed to perform. And that sense of respect will also go a long way towards unity and synergism within a cast.

(Originally appeared on showbizradio.net on July 15, 2009 )

Intermission Wisdom

Bathroom. Drinks. A snack (out of costume, of course). And if you are foolish enough to do so, smoke. There are many obvious things for which intermission can be used. There are however, unwise ways to spend an intermission during a show in which you appear.

The intermission is different for the audience than it is for the actor. For the former, it is a break. For the actor, it is more of a respite. The difference being that an actor should never be on break, as it were, from the job they are doing until either the end of the show, or until their character has made their final appearance on stage. Great is the temptation to zone out of “acting mode” during intermission, but resist it. Even if it does not seem like a big deal, and it is only for ten minutes, don’t succumb.

Actors need brief pauses. I am no exception. But consider that not only do you have further work to do in the show, the second act is of course where the climax is. As well as the final impression that the audience will be left with when the show is concluded. A weak starting point for a second act can very quickly nullify even the best of first acts, if actors are not careful. Many a badly spent intermission leads to a lackluster second half.

How to avoid the act two slide? By being wise during intermission.

Don’t load up on food. I have worked with actors who have whole dinners waiting for them to bolt down in the brief time during intermission. Not only is this not healthy, but it takes up time actors should be using to check on props and costumes. (This should be done by every actor first thing during intermission right after a bathroom visit, if needed.) Plus, all the food on the stomach so quickly is bound to make one sluggish, if not sick. Have a light, very clean snack if you must eat. Peanuts, or a carrot, or something along those lines.

Avoid laying down. This is a big one to me. Everyone does it, but unless you have at least 20 or 30 minutes before you return to the stage in act 2, intermission is not the time to lounge. Your body as well as your mind will start to shut down, no matter how much you plan otherwise. Getting back up into gear for act 2 becomes twice as hard when you find yourself loafing about during the intermission. I will permit myself to sit, but rarely to lay down, unless it is a particularly trying first act, or if for some reason I am not feeling well. Even then, I limit my time in such a position.

Don’t complain about your performance from act one, should you find a mistake in it, or find that you are below par. If you made a mistake that affected someone in particular, graciously apologize to them, but then leave it there. Spending all of intermission brooding about what act one should have been will only weaken the start of the second half for you.

On the other side of that concept, no resting on laurels. Ever. You may have had the greatest act one in your career tonight, but that means nothing for act 2. As I said, things can change quickly after an intermission, especially one where alcohol and other refreshments are served to the audience. It is your job as an actor to kick-start the audience at the start of the second curtain. If you do not, you will lose them, and your ability to successfully avoid this lies in spending intermission well.

(This piece originally appeared on showbizradio.net on July 1, 2009 )

Poetry: An Actor's Friend

Just in time for National Poetry Month...--Ty

Even the most realistic plays are written with dialogue that somewhat transcends everyday speech. Many will argue this point with me, and I embrace the argument. Yet I maintain that most successful scripts are so because the way the characters speak is at least somewhat removed from the way you and I speak in our normal daily routines.

This means that an actor must practice memorizing such dialogue, internalizing it, and of course reciting it. The “wavelength” if you will, of stage dialogue is not the same as real talking. If this were not true, all the training an actor would need would be to talk all day about anything to anyone.

How I wish it were that easy. I’d have several Oscars by now.

My advice for keeping fit the particular facets of the brain most used by actors is to read and memorize poetry. As often as you can. One poem a week, if at all possible.

Poetry, even modern verse, by nature is another collection of words that takes a step back, or at least to the side, from regular everyday speech. It is stylized and packs much meaning into few words. When recited properly, a poem’s emotional tone ought to be very clear.

Sound like any other craft we know?

And when you do memorize a poem, don’t just pound the words into your head and spit them back out at the end of the week. Delve into the piece. Search for its cadence. See the imagery it is evoking in you. Own that, and pour it into the memorization and recital process you have going any given week.

Don’t be a hero with this. Entertain no illusions of memorizing a Walt Whitman epic in 6 days. (Unless you are a Method actor trying to experience a nervous breakdown first hand.) Five stanzas at most should do the trick. And make sure you try all kinds; light poems, edgy poems, old poems and modern. Run the gamut.

Why not simply memorize speeches from plays? Certainly, this is a useful exercise as well, for very obvious reasons. But just as fitness experts recommend a varied workout to optimize the benefits to the target muscles, I feel that variety is also key to enhancing the actor’s mental and emotional fitness. Poems are similar enough to scripts that they work the same synapses in our brains, but different enough to keep things interesting.

Even if you don’t get the poem memorized in the week, (though why shouldn’t you?) you have at least opened up yourself to new words and feelings. You may just find the extra culture alone can be an actor’s friend.

(This piece originally appeared on showbizradio.net on June 3, 2009.)

Reading "Allowed"?

A character must often read something in a play. A letter. A passage from a book. Anything on paper which the plot requires him to process on the moment. An actor playing such a scene has two choices. To memorize the written material as he does all of his other spoken lines, or to have the written material actually printed on the prop from which the character will be reading. I advocate the latter.

Reading out loud can have an overly rehearsed quality to it when the words are memorized by the actor. Letters are often written by totally different characters, outside of the reader’s traits. Letters are frozen in one moment of time, and not dynamic as are snippets of conversation during a scene. Not to mention it seems a bit silly to hold a blank piece of paper in front of one’s face. The words you are reading might as well be there, if for no other reason than convenience.

Now, if you happen to be an actor who insists on memorizing a letter, and reciting it with a blank page in front of you, by all means do so. One can certainly sharpen the sense of spontaneity in such a case, just as one does when delivering dialogue. It is a matter of preference as I said. But I refuse to conclude that opting to have the writing in front of one makes one a lesser actor. I after all always strive to do excellent work. Excellent work, not extra work. Therefore, I have the writing on the actual prop page, and feel no shame in it.

But this is not about simple convenience only. It is about realism as well. I am convinced that the mental processes by which we converse with one another are different in subtle ways from those we utilize when reading something out loud. I therefore argue that attempting to memorize the written words of a script in the same way we memorize dialogue is not only more work, but also somewhat ineffective. A performance can only be enhanced when the brain is making use of the same processes when it is pretending as it is when it is truly engaging in an action.

My most recent acting experience illustrates this concept quite well. On Valentine’s Day, I took part in a reading of A.R. Gurney’s Love Letters. (see here.) The script consisted entirely of letters that the characters had written to one another throughout their lives. The playwright himself included instructions at the front of the script book discouraging the actors from memorizing any part of the script. 

Why? For the very reasons I have mentioned here; memorization of the letters would risk making the entire presentation sound phony. As a result, my partner and I did not memorize anything, and rehearsed the piece only once. It was all part of preserving the realism of reading something directly from the page.

This may sound like method acting, and to an extent it is, though I do not endorse any given method for performers. Rather I have always advocated taking whatever steps one can to give any given scene the greatest illusion of realism as possible. To me, reading directly from written words does this.

Just make extra sure you check this prop twice each night. Winging it will usually look as false as over rehearsing.

(This post originally appeared on Showbizradio.net on March 4th, 2009. Reference to "my blog" was edited appropriately for this context.)

Dramatic Readings? Dramatic Benefits.

What I want to talk about today are dramatic readings.

For those who are not familiar, they are exactly what they sound like. Actors read a play aloud from a script which they have in front of them. There is little to no memorizing of the lines, but the staging can vary to a great degree. Some readings consist merely of actors behind podiums. Others make use of props and set pieces. It all depends on the director.

However complicated the actual staging is, (though I think the simpler, the better for a reading) I cannot sing enough praises of staged readings to actors.

Resist the temptation to see them as watered down theatre, or as one friend of mine has called them “acting-lite.”

They are only acting-lite to lesser actors. In reality, a reading is an excellent way to hone skills of the craft, some of which do not get the attention the deserve in a standard production.

For one, projection and annunciation become even more important, as in many cases sets and extras are not present to invoke mood. You have the script in front of you. The audience does not, yet they must catch every word you read, in order to make sense of the story. The result is that readings often require a tighter focus, not a looser one, on the script, lest having the words in front of you lead to complacency.

Secondly, a reading forces the actor to pay closer attention to the face. Behind a podium, gesticulations and certainly crosses are of far less use to the performer. The often overlooked power of the facial expression must be utilized, in order to be true to a reading. The lessons about the use of the face one is forced to learn during a reading will hopefully carry over into the next conventional production one finds oneself in.

And finally, readings require far less time commitment. Some rehearse very little. Others do not rehearse at all. Either way, dramatic readings of any play, by virtue of what they are, require less time for the actor, while at the same time providing the same opportunity to delve into the complexities of character analysis and presentation.

That is, for the actor who takes a reading as seriously as he takes a production. And for me, only the best do so.

Why not be the best of the best, and get yourself involved in a reading?

(Originally appeared on showbizradio.net on February 18, 2009. Time specific references have been edited for this post.)

Fatigued with Fatigue

We all get tired at some point in time. Depending on our jobs, sleeping habits, and the kind of day we have, some of us get more tired than others.

Being in a play can be tiring as well. Particularly at the community level. Volunteer actors at the end of what may have already been a tiring day for them gather in the mid to late evening to either perform or rehearse a show for 2 hours. (More during tech week of course.)

It’s not for the faint of heart, or the weak of constitution.

That is not to say you should not do theatre if you feel tired in the evening. As I mentioned, most people would be. Beyond a certain point if you are always tired, perhaps you should skip auditioning for a show. However, what I am really suggesting here is that once you are in a play, keep whatever level of fatigue you are feeling to yourself.

It is a common experience in the theatre’s I have performed in, to hear at least one’s colleague complain of being tired in any number of creative ways. Obviously enhanced yawns. Slapping of faces. The simple yet direct approach of uttering the words, “I am so tired” with as much frequency as possible backstage to anyone who will listen.

Indeed, if some actors I have worked with were half as creative on stage as they were back stage in expressing how tired they were, they’d be superstars by now.

Not only is it clear that most people are probably not running on a full tank by 7:00PM, (thereby making it an unnecessary declaration), but it can actually make the situation worse than it needs to be.

We tend to reflect and enhance that to which we draw attention. If we take every chance to mention to someone how tired we are, we bring out fatigue to the forefront of our minds during a play. That is where our performance skills ought to be. If the most significant thing you can think about 4 nights before you open a show is how tired you are, your performance will be a tired performance.

Worse that that, you start to exude an aura of fatigue wherever you go. Your dragging, yawning, moaning and complaining can be contagious, and lend an overall deflated atmosphere to an entire production, depending on how obvious you are about doing it.

You do yourself, your director, and all your cast mates a huge favor when you come to the theatre by accepting the fact that you are fatigued, and assuming that everyone else, to varying degrees, is fatigued as well. That way you can instead put at the front of your mind, “Tonight I am going to perfect that scene I am having trouble”, or “I am excited about how the show is starting to come together.” With affirmations such as these, you will be able to find performance energy in spite of being tired.

And you will not run the risk of everyone else, especially me, growing tired of you.

(Originally appeared on showbizradio.net on April 8, 2009.)

"Be Proud When You Phone It In", on ShowBizRadio

I have been writing actor's advice columns for nearly two years over at ShowBizRadio.net. And while ever since I started I have linked to the website on the front page of this blog, I have only sporadically provided direct links to individual columns I write. I am going to try to do that more often again.

My most recent post over there is about how to look more realistic on stage when your character has to talk on the phone. (It would appear that it's harder than it look for a lot of people.)