Why I teach Acting for the Camera

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People often ask me about teaching acting for camera. They often mistakenly ask me what technique or approach I use.

If anyone ever comes to you and says they have a technique they have developed for working in front of the camera run far, far away from them and don’t listen.

They are selling you snake oil.

There is no magic, no secret pill that will make you better in front of the camera other than being a good actor.

Yes, it’s true you have to adjust things for working in recorded media be it in film, television, commercials, or new media. You need knowledge about sets, the language, the people, how things are shot and the workflow. But there is no replacement for good acting.

There are only two things I am concerned with when working with students, Truth and No Truth; and I call the camera The Great Barometer of Truth.

When the camera is recording there is no place to hide, you are either in the moment being spontaneous and truthful or you are schmacting. Believe me there is nothing worse than watching yourself schmact. When it’s on a big screen in a movie theatre, it’s humiliating.

99% of working in front of the camera is being comfortable and confident there. Feeling like you are free to do your job and god forbid, be an artist.

Most students of acting spend years on stage and back stage, in acting classes and in scene studies where the focus is about being on stage. You spend years working on your voice and speech to be clear, heard, and resonant. Think of how many plays or musicals a student actor has been in or been involved with and compare it to how many live sets the same student actor has been on. See the discrepancy?

I remember my first time working on set as an actor. It was disorienting. I felt stupid. I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing and much of what was going on around me was foreign and strange (even though I was more prepared than most). I never want a single student to feel as dumb and useless as I felt that day. I think back to early jobs and say, “Oh, my gosh! If only I could have felt like I was free enough on set to act.”

That’s my job, that’s my technique, and that’s my point of view as an educator. To remove that fear, and make sure you have the knowledge and the skills to feel confident and competent so that way, when you hear the word, “Action,” you can actually be free to act, be creative, and be brilliant.

What’s wild is that as actor’s we have a limitless amount of accessibility towards watching recorded media from network television, to cable, to the Internet, Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, YouTube, and Vimeo; programs are all around us. As actors we can watch all of the work on-camera that we want, but we get little experience doing it, whereas with theatre, most of us, once we get the bug, have spent more time in front of an audience on stage than being in the audience. Weird huh?

What’s even weirder is when one thinks about how much money one earns in front of the camera versus being on stage. The salary discrepancy is disgustingly large between the two. How strange is it then, that so many programs put their entire emphasis on theatre and make the camera the after thought?

Not that I am saying that we should stop training for the stage. On the contrary it is essential to the development of an actor. The roles, stepping out on stage night after night, the language, the sheer skill involved is amazing, but to ignore the camera as a performer seems like a terrible idea. It seems like an injustice and since we are solidly in the digital age, where web series can be shot on an iphone for very little money – I know it is time to rethink the tools we are sending our students out into the world with.

Theatre Program "Best of" lists and what we can learn from them.

Theatre Programs: Best of lists and what can we learn from them?

Lately I’ve been reading a lot lists about the “top,” or the “best,” theatre training programs for both BFA and BA students.

These lists make my stomach churn more than a little. I often wonder how a single writer can look at every program in the country? How solid is their research? How do they prepare their lists? Do schools that have excellent PR firms rank better? I have a lot of questions and they provide very little in the way of answers.

These lists get re-blogged and reposted all across the Internet. I freely admit my own complicity in this as I re-blog/tweet/Facebook post every one of these lists that comes my way.

What I love most about them is when a little known or little publicly appreciated program receives its moment in the sun and makes one of these lists. It makes one feel as if the underdog can win, that the little guy can take on a giant.

I decided to dig into these lists and see what makes them tick and it was interesting what I learned. I looked at the lists of these schools and asked myself what do all of these “best” programs have in common? I took each school and looked at what they themselves say about their own programs. Then I looked at the similarities or commonalities among the “top."

Well, this is what I learned . . .

1.) Nearly every top program has some sort of weekly meeting for the whole department. Some call it Drama Forum, others call it Theatre Lab but they all do it in some manner. They use it as a way to come together each week (some with less frequency but they still do it at least once a month) and showcase student work, make announcements, discuss new developments, present guest speakers, even professors can present work in progress, etc. Many of these programs also make it an open forum to discuss issues, policy changes; they create a space to truly have a dialogue with their student population and community.

I know there will be naysayers about this practice, “Student’s won’t show up, attendance was low, faculty don’t want to commit the time.” Tough, I don’t care. Trying to implement a new policy or practice once will never make it successful. Try it for a whole academic year. Make it the same time and the same day each week. I dare you. Invite student groups to makes announcements, bring in a speaker, and commit to some programming. Also always have a flyer up and make it clear that it’s a way for new members to the theatre community to introduce themselves and learn more.

Some people may say, “But we can’t afford speakers.” Wrong, if you look, they are there. Even if you don’t live near a major city there’s no reason you can’t bring in the stage manager of the big show coming through the local roadhouse. Offer to buy them dinner and a great cup of coffee and I bet they would love to speak with your students for half an hour to 45 minutes, all you have to do is ask. Doing things like that strengthens ties with the professional world and spreads through word of mouth great things about your department.

2.) Engagement in some form of new work - sometimes it’s ten-minute plays written by the students, sometimes it’s a new musical, others times it can be a guest artist brought in to develop a new piece, but they all do it in some manner.

3.) Bridges to the professional world - every “successful” program does this and some do it on multiple fronts. For some schools its internships and externships with casting directors, agents, managers, theatres, and production companies. Many of these schools have built relationships with these folks over the years so that way it’s easy to place their students, the professionals know what to expect and what the level of education is that these interns have.

Some schools go through a traditional showcase process. Some of the really successful programs have internships and a showcase. Or you could take the route of a school like Elon University. Instead of bringing 16-24 students to NYC and Los Angeles they bring industry professionals to North Carolina, have them watch a showcase, evaluate each of the students, provide feedback to each of them, and then teach workshops for a few days about the profession and working as an actor.

I found Elon’s approach interesting because of the savings it provides. If you are a program far from NYC or Los Angeles, or an airline hub, it’s much cheaper to bring a handful of professionals to your school. Especially after you factor in airfare, hotels and meals. There might even be funds present at your university or college to bring in guest speakers.

Of course, there is no substitute for traveling to and experiencing a city. I know of past students who would never have moved to Los Angeles unless they had visited it as part of the showcase process first.

Some programs build real world relationships by hiring working directors and designers to come in and direct their students and design their shows. Smart schools bring in directors and designers with strong ties to regional theatres. And remember, everybody likes to have an assistant.

And lastly, some schools have working ties with regional theatres. What you have to be careful about is students never getting to play leads and they spend their time in ensemble or background roles. One school, such as St. Edwards in Austin, uses an Equity theatre as the on-campus producing center. That means their BFA students get to earn equity points as EMC's while earning their degree. They also then have the opportunity to work alongside professionals from the Austin area. This allows them to grow even more as actors.

Not every school can afford working on an URTA contract. Nor should every program function like that. But there is no harm in reaching out to your local SPT (Small Professional Theatre) and seeing what you can do to help them engage in the Equity Memberships Candidate process and introduce them to your students. Hold a forum with your local AEA rep or SAG-AFTRA rep and educate everyone about how to operate on SPT or SAG ultra low budget contracts. I think everyone can agree that this is a business of relationships. (Heck, I bet your Dramatists Guild Area Liaison would love to speak with your playwriting students.)

4.) Having a plan for your graduates – most schools simply don’t do this. It’s silly how easily this can be incorporated into your capstone courses. I’m not saying your students have to stick to it, but putting the thought into where to move, survival skills, software skills, how to budget and having a written plan in place about how they intend to accomplish their goals is a powerful tool. Hopefully as more schools comply with guidelines from regulatory bodies they will adopt this practice. It truly makes a difference in students, their success rates, and alumni relations and dollars. These plans could be anything, from moving to a new city, attending graduate school, or working in a year long/seasonal fellowship. (Have your students explore Arts Search every spring for opportunities.) The point is, any plan is better than no plan.

5.) Some form of company or class presented work - it seems to bring people together, create a sense of company and community, and allows you to claim you are producing more than you actually are. We all know that NYU Grad presents company shows for each year of the program. A school like Rutgers achieves this in several ways; the BFA’s present work that they have written and created themselves under the title of Performance Ensemble. They do it again by presenting a Shakespeare play as a company that they worked on while studying at The Globe in London. Some schools achieve it through other means; if you have a course in improvisation, present an evening or a weekend of improv before an audience. If you a studying clown, put on a clown show. If your school is finding ways to devise, then present what the class has produced for a weekend. (By the way if your school is not devising or teaching devising, then you are behind the times and that ship has already sailed far away from you.) Another great way to achieve this is presenting ten-minute plays by the directing students.

6.) Production and performance opportunities galore – outside of a few strict conservatories most of the top BA and BFA programs are all about producing as much as possible while maintaining quality. Most schools formally produce at least four productions a season. They build on that by adding in company and class produced work (see point #5), student improv groups, things like No Shame Theatre, a cabaret from their musical theatre students, and most of them have some sort of venue for students to produce and put up work written and directed by themselves. Successful schools create a “second stage” where student led work and classroom work can be presented to a public (and sometimes paying) audience.

What should be number seven, I will put down as an “honorable mention,” is studying abroad. Some programs have a summer, a full semester, even a full year abroad; others have several programs they will transfer all of the credits from. Year after year these schools place students in summer or semester abroad programs at places such as The Moscow Art Theatre, RADA, LAMDA, and BADA.  Some encourage their students to study at places like the O’Neil Theatre Center. Studying at the O’Neil, while not quite abroad, certainly has its advantages. 

There is no reason your program can't adopt some of these ideas and make them your own.

What I feel the need to point out is that much of this has nothing to do with location or money. I once heard a Department Chair tell a room full of educators that his program will never be a top program because it’s too far from an entertainment center such as NYC or Los Angeles. I would tell him that’s a terrible excuse and countless programs have proven him wrong.

I also want to point out that much of this costs little to nothing to implement. Many of the changes can be made with elbow grease and a little gumption. A little effort with your study abroad office and taking the Artistic Director from the local professional theatre can sometimes reap big rewards for your students. Also, little changes in thinking along with tweaking your best practices can go a long way towards building a community, a brand, the success of your students and your program.

Big 'Ol Sensual Pussycat

I had a realization today as I was teaching. Of course it wasn’t a new realization, it was one I’ve had many times before, the only thing that’s different today is that I’m writing about it and articulating my thoughts.

I am repeatedly stunned and amazed at how disconnected this generation of young actors are from their bodies.

I have to be clear and forthcoming in saying that I believe everything is connected (acting, movement, and voice) and that most things start with the body.

This point was driven home to me today in Meisner class. (At UAlbany I am teaching a section of Acting Two, which is Mesiner based.)

Two very lovely young people were working on a scene (yes, it’s final scene time) where they are playing two lovers who have never consummated their relationship. They are in relationships with other people, one of them is very religious and here they are, after three years of sneaking around, finally in a hotel room ready to consummate their affair.

The two lovely actors were like robots. They were in the scene, but behaving like an Amish couple in church.

They didn’t touch each other the whole time.

They also were on a bed they refused to use.

I love beds on stage. I kneel on them, lay on them, roll around on them, and hang off the edge of them. They are my favorite set piece/prop.

These two actors were talking heads of repression.

So I cleared them of the bed and proceeded to roll around on it. I had the actress feed me her lines while he stood beside the bed. I asked the male actor if I could touch him, he consented and then I held his hand. He held mine. Then I asked if I could put my head on his chest, he said yes and he did a speech with my head on his chest. He opened up. The speech lit up. He went places and connected in a way he hadn’t before.

I turned to the class and asked,  “Was there anything we did that was sexual in any way?”

The class, “No.”

“What was it then?”

Silence mixed with looks of confusion on their faces.

“It was sensual.”

I could see light bulbs going off and realizations happening.

“Sensuality and sexuality are two different things. While it certainly helps if they go hand in hand they are not mutually exclusive. Being sensual means being tactile and connected to one’s partner and environment. It means being present in a larger way and being open. It means following impulses and being in your body.”

As I looked around the room at them, I felt sorry for them.

For the most part (and this is a gross generalization) they are a generation that is afraid to touch. Where everything can be construed as something else, everything can be misinterpreted. They are a generation  where everything is litigious and they fear being uncomfortable and they are detached from their bodies. They are a generation of file complaints and ask for it to be easier rather than problem solve and invent. They are a generation where empathy has been replaced by the tweet and they live a life connected to their devices instead of to each other.

So what am I going to do about it? I’m going to give them more assignments in their journals where they have to connect. (And yes I have them do their journals digitally online.)

I’m going to force them to interact with each other and with art. (They had very mixed responses when I had them go to the free art museum on campus and respond to a piece of art that “struck them.”)

In Acting One (which I teach every semester), I am going to do more old school improvisation work and force them to interact physically. I’m going to make sure that every warm-up forces them to be PHYSICAL and IN CONTACT with each other.

We will see how this experiment pans out. At UAlbany we don’t have movement or voice classes. In the show I directed I did voice warm-ups with them. I’m also teaching Acting Three which is in essence a movement class since it is the outside-in, physical theatre class.

But these students don’t have the opportunity to roll around on the floor like a pepper grinder, tumble, paint the wall with their voices, or roll around on the floor with each other like big ‘ol sensual pussycats.

Perhaps in Acting One I will do a round of open scenes where I will set criteria such as, you have to touch each other at three different points in the opens scene in some fashion. We will see if it will make a difference. All I can do is keep chugging along and help them anyway I can.

I frequently say to me students, "It is the artists job to illuminate the humanity of life." I'm going to start following that line up with, "So let's go light up the sky."

Some thoughts on teaching acting . . .

Teaching at a university whose MFA program that is focused on pedagogy raises lots of interesting questions.

Without a doubt it makes me a better teacher as I have to constantly and consistently answer “why” and “how” in relation to every conversation I have with my graduate students.

Every day is a new examination of the actor training process.

I realize there are three kinds of programs:

1.) Those that teach a technique, adhere to that technique and live in the philosophical world of that technique.

2.) Then there are those programs that teach outcomes. After semester X you will be able to do Y. They don’t care how you get there as a teacher, simply that you get the students there.

3.) And lastly, we have what I call “patchwork” or “hodgepodge.” They teach a bunch of different techniques and approaches and the connective tissue is the performance opportunities and the faculty.

After having been educated in or taught in all three kinds I’m not sure which I prefer.

There are pros and cons to all three.

I will say that having a “technique” allows one the safety of working inside a philosophy or values system that one can always go back to when in doubt about a situation. It shapes an aesthetic. It shapes the artist not only as a student but also as a teacher.

When I was younger I refused to adhere to the aesthetic or philosophy of my teachers and over time I now cling to it. After a decade and a half as a theatre practitioner I have found myself coming back to my roots, embracing the amazing master teachers I have worked with and I have fully realized my value system as an actor and educator.

I was listening to Anne Bogart speak the other night and she said something that stuck with me.  “Actor training in this country has become too easy. It needs to be hard, it needs to take work. It doesn’t matter what you study as long you study it in depth, takes effort to learn it and is hard.”

I couldn’t agree with her more.

That thought should be applied to all of higher education, not simply theatre or actor training. We must stop inflating grades and hold them to a measure of perfection or success. And we must stand by that measure, stand our ground and know that we are serving them.

It’s why I talk to my students about “being excellent.” Excellence is a habit that must be cultivated like love, kindness or compassion. It takes effort to be excellent and it must be practiced.

I challenge them with the idea that why would one choose to be mediocre? Who aims for that? Who wants to simply get by? Why would one choose to be an artist and then aim for enough, aim for passable? That makes no sense to me. I want my students to aspire to be brilliant, to be hungry for it and to never be satisfied with just ok.

An Awfully Big Adventure

As many of you may know I am currently teaching at Virginia Commonwealth University.

While I don't wish to bore you all with discussions of teaching acting and this technique versus that technique or the drama that happens behind the closed doors of our ivory towers of education . . . I do want to share with you all something.

This semester I get to to do something really cool.

I'm teaching a new class  - Creating and Producing Webisodes & New Media. Essentially I'm getting together with students from Mass Comm, Comm Arts, English, Film & Photography, Theatre, Kinetic Imaging and Advertising and we are making a scripted web series.

Pretty cool huh?

While I'm still amazed that Christina Lindholm in the Dean's Office said yes to my crazy idea, it's probably one of the coolest things I've done.

I thought I would document the process here. I hope others may find it useful, especially if you teach young people who are interested in New Media or finding new ways to tell their stories.

Don't tell my students, but I think I'm learning more than they are.

To let you know how it's working, I decided to call it online as VCUarts New Media Project. This semester of the class is going to be known as Season One. If this course happens a second time that will be Season Two, etc.

We will have to see how it all goes.

You can follow their work through Twitter, @VCUartsNewMedia

If you are curious to see how it goes, stay tuned  . . .

Some Thoughts on the Next Generation of Playwrights & Theatre Artists

Some thoughts on the next generation of playwrights & theatre artists.

This past year I’ve had the privilege to work with playwriting students of vary skill levels and educational backgrounds at a variety of places and here are some conclusions I’ve drawn . . .

1.)   Playwrights need to constantly be putting work up in front of an audience, even if it’s not perfect finished etc and putting it up often.

Most of the writers I worked with had no ability to see their work through the audience’s eyes.  I found this fascinating. Whenever I have a show going up or being workshopped, as soon as other people are in the room I “see” the play through their eyes and learn so much, what is over-written, what clunks, what doesn’t fit, what needs another beat etc.  Somehow I learned this skill in undergrad. Maybe it was because we were based on the writer’s workshop model where our work was being read out loud constantly. The University of Iowa was also production heavy. We had No Shame (which in it’s early days was mandatory every week for the MFA’s), gallery shows, readings, workshops plus other departments we would put work up in.

One of my colleagues at this event confided in me that being able to see his play’s through the audience’s eyes was something he had to learn over time and didn’t innately posses and was something he was always working on.

I think being forced to put up your own work all the time is a good thing. The French theatre teacher Jacques Lecoq had his students put up work every Friday in what he called, auto-cours.  Starting in the 1960’s Lecoq had the students at this school devote time each day to working on pieces that they would present to the school at the end of each week.

The pressure of putting up work each week forces you to be okay with failure and learn to create when nothing is truly happening for you creatively.

Through this process you will be forced to wear different hats, that of actor, director, designer etc. I think if more theatre training and education programs adopted some sort of system like this, we would be making better and stronger theatre artists.

2.)   Playwrights need to read more theatre and watch more theatre.

A lot of these playwrights were smart, brilliant young people but I found their depth and breadth of knowledge about theatre and major theatre texts lacking. I found this shocking.  I would reference a playwright or an essayist and I wouldn’t find a hint of recognition on their faces.

The other problem lies in the fact that most art forms, genres etc are self-referential. You can’t build upon and steal from other people’s ideas if you haven’t read it or seen it.

3.)   There is no substitute for solid dramatic structure.

I will probably be crucified for this point, but it’s true. Unless you are Mac Wellman or Erik Ehn I suggest hunkering down and really learning structure.  (I can hear the movement theatre and devisor/collaborators in the world groaning as I type!)

I have one thing to say to you, shut up and deal.

Even when I’m devising a project and putting the pieces together I deal with structure. What is overall story we are telling? Everything on stage must push the story forward.  If it doesn’t move the narrative forward in some fashion it doesn’t belong on stage. Other wise it becomes a cool piece of movement or a pretty monologue or an interesting moment and that is death on stage. It might be cool and you might be married to it, but if it stops the action (and that word can have so many meanings and connotations) than it serves no purpose and must go.  If it doesn’t move the message/politics/action/plot/narrative forward in some manner, cut it.

One of my early playwriting teachers, Thea Cooper, would make us take a red pen to the page and draw shapes around very word that correlated to it’s value. Then we would start cutting. It was a brutal exercise, but brilliant and taught one to let shit go.

Another lesson in structure came from Nilo Cruz. He would have us write scenes in the style of other playwrights. Oh, boy did that teach us a thing or two about structure.

4.)   All playwrights need to act and direct.

Again, I’m sure I’m hearing groans, guess what? I don’t care.

All playwrights need to suffer through more than one acting class and more than one directing class, why? It will make them better. My favorite playwrights all started out as actors. If you suffer through more than one acting class and are forced to act, forced to act in your own stuff, your colleague’s stuff and if you direct your colleague’s plays, you will become such a better writer.

Why you might ask? You will a.) Learn to think visually if you are forced to direct as well as patch holes in other people’s plays and b.) If you act and do it often you will hopefully ever write a character that doesn’t serve a purpose or belong in the scene.

5.)   Show, don’t tell.

I can’t tell you how many classes I’ve heard this in and it’s true. The first 500 times you hear it, you won’t understand it and then finally one day you will and your head will explode.  The simplest way I can explain/describe etc this idea is this. Write a monologue revealing something about a character, then, see how you can relate the same information to the audience through physical action via a scene using as few words as possible. Behavior not exposition is how we learn about characters.

Believe it or not, but film and television writing are great ways to drive this point home, since they are such visual mediums (as is the theatre, hint, hint.)

6.)   I believe in volume.

I was recently at a talkback for one of my plays and an audience member (and budding writer) asked me if I believe in volume.

Yes, I do, to a point.

I don’t believe good writing can be taught. I think someone is either a storyteller or they are not. I can teach someone how to write cleanly, effectively and efficiently but inspiration, creativity and the ability to make people shut up, sit down and listen to you? That can’t be taught. But for someone who has the spark, yes they will get better through everything they write.

Every time you write something you get better at structure, you learn more about your voice, you grow more confident. Thinking about writing won’t make you a better writer, only writing will. So when it comes to theatre (notice I said theatre, not playwriting) I believe in the 10,000 Hour Theory. Directing, acting, producing, stage-managing, designing and writing for 10,000 hours will make you a better playwright.  Notice how really good musicians can play more than one instrument? Theatre artists should be the same way.

Designers should direct, directors should write and playwrights should act: get the picture? Trust me, it will make you better at your primary art.

Also keep in mind that 99.9% of writing is re-writing. So when I say volume I don’t necessarily always mean, volume – perhaps a better way to describe it to say always be creating . . . something.

7.)   Devising, company created work and other popular trends.

No matter how you feel about it, devising and company created work through the ensemble is here to stay. Even the Dramatists Guild is addressing this current trend.

The elephant in the room is the issue that this devised/company created work and the commercial theatre are currently incongruous.

Theatre programs and educational institutions all across the country are flocking to teaching students how to devise theatre and create work as a company. I think that’s great. A class in devising should be a part of every educational theatre’s curriculum. The issue arises when it comes to making money and reproducing this work. It’s hard enough in this business to make a living, have insurance and put into a retirement. Trying to do so with devised/company created theatre is next to impossible.  We don’t have a working financial model for it. Also most companies that create this type of work have a hard time reproducing it.

The way higher education is currently funded through student loans and grants I see a problem brewing. Schools that receive federal funding are now (or very soon) going to have to start posting learning outcomes and job placement rates (in one form or another) on their websites if they want to receive federal dollars.

While company created work is an easy way to claim students are working, I feel an amazing use of curriculum would be a class in producing and navigating the waters of non-profit management and commercial arts management. This will only help a program’s graduates not just create their own work, but able to create a long tem company and learn fiscal responsibility for an arts organization.

What am I saying? Well, I feel any program with a sense of being current, viable and serving the educational needs of it’s students should have as a part of it’s curriculum a class in devised theatre, a class in producing in the arts & arts management and last but not least some sort of on-camera component.

Yup, I said it. Any educational theatre program in the country that does not have an on-camera component is doing its students a disservice. They all need to find a way to start integrating the camera into their various disciplines be it design, writing, directing, stage management or acting. Its where so many of their alumni will end up in one form or another and to not prepare them, at least a little bit is criminal.

Stage managers will work in production, playwrights will write television and actors – well, as a working actor I know how much of my income comes from theatre and how much of it comes from film, television and commercials and I know where my insurance benefits come from.  I would be lost without SAG-AFTRA. Also in this digital age of the Internet there is no excuse for not learning how to tell stories and disseminate it through the web.

There is no excuse for not having it be part of the curriculum, when the Playwright’ s Center puts trailers for plays on its website and videos are an essential part of fundraising through crowd sourcing on Kickstarter educational theatre must embrace the use of cameras, working on camera and recorded media.  To not do so is negligent.

Bringing it back to the point of this post, which is playwrights, I encourage them to put up their work in as many ways as possible, always be throwing something up in front of some kind of audience. I also want to challenge them with learning three things, devising, producing and learning to write for film & television. At least experiment with all three, you will be doing yourself, your career and your talent a favor.

Why do we go to the theatre?

I know that's probably the most pretentious title ever but it does leave me wondering.

Mostly because there are two plays I haven't seen yet in NYC and I really want to go,
TRIBES and Annie Baker's UNCLE VANYA.

I've heard mixed things about TRIBES but I still want to see it. And of course I adore Annie Baker.
There's something about her plays that appeal to me.

They are plays I want to work on with my friends.

I like them because they aren't what I consider "the cool kid plays," "NYC Hip," or as I prefer to call them, "Look at me I'm so smart and I'm going to be emotionally selfish." Yeah I hate those plays and New York  is full of them. (Sorry fellow playwrights.)

The crazy thing is, UNCLE VANYA isn't my favorite Chekhov play. But I'm excited like it's the opening of a the new Dark Night movie.

So back to my original question: why do we go to the theatre?

For myself, I go when I can afford it. (A movie is so much cheaper.)

When someone else drags me. (I'm a bit of a shut in.)

When a friend is in something. (That's why I go to half of the plays I see.)

When I don't have to pay for it. (Yup, I'm a jerk but 99.9% of the theatre I see in NYC is pretty awful, so why pay?)

The sad truth is, I don't go because I want to.

I'm a theatre artist and I don't go to the theatre of my own free will. I go out of obligation.

Shoot me.

Seriously.

Please.

I should be ashamed of myself.

I actually started making a conscious effort to avoid theatre. Every day I was getting hit with things from every friend I know inviting me to their show. Most of them bad. I can't really afford to see all of this crap anyway, so why should I go? To see you or go to see a good show?

Get ready fellow theatre makers, here's me being a complete douche, "Please stop making bad theatre."

There's a reason I don't work in a lot of NYC theatre anymore. I started saying no to projects.
I would audition and they would call me back and after having met the creative teams and realizing they were morons who found money, I started saying no to things. I refuse to be in a show (when I'm not really making any money) that I think is bad.

It started one day with an offer to do some really bad avant garde Shakespeare project downtown. In the call back I realized I knew more about how to speak and how to interpret The Bard than the people who were supposed to be in charge.

They were victims of the school of, "I never learned what the rules are, so I'm going to break them all HAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!

I hate those people. You shouldn't be allowed to color outside the lines until you've at least made an effort to color inside them.

When the offer came in I told my agent, no. That I would be miserable. And low and behold, he understood. (Oh how I loved that agent!)

So that's how it started. The  power of no. I stopped auditioning for crap I didn't want to be in.
Terrible ideas are terrible ideas. A bad play will almost always be a bad play.

I refuse to be that guy who works for the sake of working. (At least in the theatre.) I'd rather spend my time at home with my loved ones or writing a new script than being a part of a show that I think sucks. I don't want to be bitter about being at the theatre and feeling like we are wasting the audience's time.

I'm tired of being ashamed. (At least when it comes to theatre. There's too much work and not enough money involved. A commercial or TV gig? Bring it on, I'm shameless. Mostly because it asks so little of the audience. The theatre asks a lot out of the audience.)

Now I should also turn this back on myself. Wesley, you currently run a theatre. That's true.

As  a playwright, I write stories that I have to write, that I have to tell. I don't put on plays for the sake of putting on plays.

Everyone, please promise me this. No one ever work with me or my theatre for sake of putting on a play. Unless you feel a burning in your heart that you have to be a part of this project, please, go somewhere else.

There is no money in off-off Broadway. So let's tell stories we think are cool, awesome, that the audience the will learn from - let's do it to change people in some fashion and to entertain.

NOT for the sake of being on stage.

Please don't waste my time because of a need to validate your expensive BFA or MFA.

I'm just saying.

I love my art.

I feel like I have to protect it.

Let's conspire to be brilliant and leave the audience different from when they walked in. Since we are asking so much from our audience, let's give them two-fold back in return.

If I don't go to the theatre, why am I excited at the prospect of these two plays?

I don't know. I can't articulate it yet. I have hope that what these plays ask of me as an audience member will be returned in spades.

But I am going to make this promise. I'm going to go see more theatre of my own free will.

Yup. I'm going to spend more time looking for plays that I want to see.

I'm going to invest in the theatre in a larger way. As an audience member by choice.

I want to be entertained or I want to be moved. Hopefully both.

Until next time True Believers . . .