Summer is over and winter is on its way. It’s time to get
back to business. This summer in so many ways made me think of my first
professional job.
My first job away from home was doing summer stock, getting
paid $65 a week. There were three companies.
We rotated between three theatres: two in Pennsylvania and one in
Massachusetts. One had housing in a hotel above a disco. We were too young to
get into the club but luckily every night our beds would thump along with the
bass line. Another had a bona fide log cabin for a cast house. All I remember
about the third is it was in the mountains. The Red company, the part of the ocmpany I was in,
was doing 3 shows, Sugar Babies, Dreamgirls and a book musical
which I don’t remember.
A lot of things happened during the course of that summer.
The company lost the rights to Dreamgirls. They had to find a
replacement show and quick. They decided to go with They’re Playing Our Song,
which was mounted earlier in their spring season. Unfortunately there was no part
in the show for me. I was a dancer and hired as such. They’re Playing Our Song
was considered a singer show.
I was working on my voice though. I had been taking voice
classes with the Artistic Director. So Instead of letting me sit twiddling my
thumbs for $65, he sent me off to join the tapper company. They were the Blue
company. They were doing 42nd Street, My One and Only and
a third show which I don’t remember.
I joined them in rehearsals for My One and Only. I
was one of the “New Rhythm Boys”, my first singing part. I loved it. I loved the
show. It was so much fun and the cast was great. I’ve actually done several
productions of My One and Only since.
My stint in this My One and Only was short lived. We
were doing one week stock and soon the time to rotate theatres came around. My
original company, the Red company, met me in the mountains. I joined them again to perform Sugar
Babies.
What a great summer.
This past summer I was involved with 3 shows albeit on the
creative teams.
During the auditions for the first show, we were having some
difficulties finding an actress for one of the supporting roles. All the women
were talented in their own right, but for whatever reason none of them were quite
hitting the mark on what this particular character needed.
In callbacks we, the people behind the table, worked with
each actress to try and pull out the distinctive quirkiness and caring of the
character. We each tried using our normal vocabulary and descriptiveness.
Nothing worked. We then went the intellectual route, providing the actresses
with a character analysis. Surely we thought at least one of them would respond
to that line. But no luck.
We tried to explain what we were looking for in a plethora
of ways. We’d work through each angle of approach with each actress. Yet the
essence of the character in question didn’t quite materialize.
This went on all afternoon. I was so frustrated, not with
the actresses but with my inability to summon forth the character from within
them. At a loss for words, which is rare for me, I tried to explain to yet
another contender for the role exactly what was wanted. I finally said “This
character is like...” and while searching for the words I made some sort of
non-descript sound between an “ah”, a “blah” and a “wow”.
I felt like an incompetent idiot. I was sure this woman
would walk out the door cursing my yet unborn children for screwing up her
callback, telling everyone outside to run and hide from the lunatic behind the
table.
She nailed it.
For whatever reason that non-descript sound resonated with
her. It instantly gave her all the information she needed for the character. .
She took that “shorthand” and converted it into exactly what we were looking
for in relationship to the character and the show. The two of us had discovered
a means of communicating that was quick and concise. I could give her a
direction in under 5 seconds.
Needless to say she got the job.
We all know talent plays a relatively small part in getting
a job in theatre. If a contract eluded you, perhaps it’s because you spoke a
different “language” from the creative team. The audition was conducted in
French and you were auditioning in Spanish. These two languages are similar and
can on some levels communicate with each other. However the translations are
rough and slow. The people behind the tables are looking for quick accurate
translators. They want their own pure ideas to come from the stage to the
audience via the actor.
It’s for this reason the same actors tend to get hired by
the same creatives. The actors speak the particular language of those people
behind the table. Together, they and the actors are able to conjure the world
of the play easily, thus the show goes up quickly. Without a common language
the entire process can be debilitating to the show itself and also to the
people involved in creating the show.
Dancers take class from choreographers. Singers take class
from musical directors. Actors take class from directors and casting directors. It’s to network and
to get acquainted to how these people work, to learn their language. When an
audition rolls around where that teacher/mentor is actually behind the table,
the performers from their classes can produce the desired effect more quickly
and more accurately. These actors have a higher probability of getting hired.
Why? Because if an actor can do exactly
what is being asked, quickly and easily, it makes the people behind the table
appear competent, knowledgeable and worth their salaries.
Back during my first summer stock gig, a guy in the My
One and Only company had a family emergency and had to break his contract.
The director and choreographer for the Blue company asked for me to come back.
I was one of many in the chorus of the Red company and wouldn’t be missed. The
Artistic Director thought it was a good idea to send me packing once again to
the Blue company.
I was whisked away to the mountains, again. I stepped off of
the van and went right into rehearsals for the Blue company’s production of 42nd
Street. I had 4 hours to learn the entire show and then perform it that night. Before this I had only known
about the movie of 42nd Street, which I shamefully admit to
this day I still haven’t seen. I have seen the stage show several
times since though.
I wish I could say that I was absolutely brilliant and
letter perfect in my performance. Those kind of things only occur in the
movies. I spent most of the show watching and following the other people in the
cast. It’s almost impossible to know what you’re doing if you don’t know what
scene or song is coming next. I don’t think anyone in the audience was any the
wiser. They were oblivious to a real life “Peggy Sawyer” moment happening on
stage...even if it was only in the chorus.
By the end of all this bouncing around, extra rehearsals and
learning 2 extra shows I was making $75 a week. Now I could afford to add
spaghetti sauce to my Rahman noodles and take a trip the ice cream shop down
the street once a week, but only on pay day.
Ah memories!
During rehearsals for the first show of the 2013 summer
season one of the dancer’s had a death in his family. He had to leave rehearsals
to go be with them. When he came back he had to play catch up with everything
we had accomplished.
Unfortunately during the run of the show his Grandmother also
suffered some sort of health emergency. Apparently she went into cardiac arrest
and was revived. During the process the paramedics inadvertently crack one of
her ribs. The dancer told me what had happened and that he may have to go back
to his family. The cynical side of me took over.
The dancer was a friend of the choreographer’s and he was
quite a handful. He was consistently late. He never truly learned his lines or
his blocking, even before his first absence. When he was given a note there was
always an excuse and a discussion. And in my opinion his dancing was nothing
beyond “okay”. During this leg of the production we had 6 shows. I predicted
that he would only do two of them before leaving again.
Unfortunately the dancer’s grandmother never recovered from
the incident. This dancer now had to return home to be with his family as they
took her off of life support…he only did two shows in the run. We had one show
and then a break before another leg of the production. We had only 2 chorus boys out of three. So I called my friend
Teagan.
Teagan is a great guy and really quite talented. We had met
during a production of this same show a year ago. We were both in the cast. He
was one of the three chorus boys.
Teagan is wildly busy doing any number of things: working,
rehearsing, going to circus school and at the time he and his girlfriend had to
pack because they were moving into a new place. I initially had thought against
asking him to be a replacement since he was so busy. I was in a serious bind
and I figured the worse thing he could say was “no” and I would be none the
worse off.
He said yes and we went right into working.
Teagan had four hours to learn the show. No, not learn the
show, RE-learn the show, which is infinitely harder. We had completely new
blocking, choreography, costuming and staging. So remembering anything of the
past production was definitely a hindrance.
With having only so much time we were forced to make major
adjustments. In the opening number there were three couples. I decided that it
could be accomplished with only two couples, thus easing the burden of what
Teagan had to learn. Unfortunately this didn’t sit well with his dance partner,
who also had to be cut.
She had trouble understanding why she couldn’t be in the
number without a male counterpart. She was convinced that she could merely
adjust the choreography at certain points and that all the creative team had to
do was rearrange the formations. All of which were true. However the rehearsal
was for Teagan to learn a track. We could only allow time to teach him the show
and adjust the old cast for the two numbers he didn’t learn. It literally took 30 seconds
to make one adjustment to the opening number and it was finished. Only 3 hours,
59 minutes and 30 seconds to go.
More cuts and adjustments were made and we headed over the
theatre to perform with 45 minutes before half hour call.
Teagan did a wonderful job. He handled all the choreography
and blocking. He had personality. He was witty and charming. Whatever went
wrong on stage Teagan improvised his way out of it and no one in the audience
was the wiser. He was a true professional.
The second show I was working on recently was for a program
to support child literacy in public schools. I cast and directed the show. But
even before we fully got underway there were some issues. I take full
responsibility.
I hired a guy who had submitted for every project that I
have been on the creative team for this past year and a half. Norman’s only
actually shown up to two of the auditions and this literacy program was one of
them. The other audition he showed up to he didn’t have the skill set required.
At this children’s theatre one he was quite good. I decided to go against my
gut feeling and hire him.
We did a meet and greet on a Sunday, the first day of
rehearsal. Contracts were signed and turned in, except for Norman’s. All the
materials were handed out and all parts assigned. We even took the time to do a
read through. We ended that first official day around four in afternoon.
From the audition notice right up through the first
rehearsal, the Artistic Director was completely upfront about the kind of
performances these were and they type of material that was to be done. It was a
TYA (Theatre for Young Audiences) type contract touring the tri-state area. We
started off with no secrets or surprises, until the next morning.
We were scheduled to begin rehearsals in earnest Monday
morning at 10am. When I woke up I commenced with my usual morning ritual of
looking at the auditions sites, making submissions and checking my emails. At
7:45am I received a “lovely” surprise from Norman:
Good morning Evan,
After much thought and deliberation, I have decided to not continue with [children’s literacy program].
I'm so sorry to drop this on you now that rehearsals have started. I understand that this will be a major inconvenience to you and the cast.
Please know that it's nothing personal. I was very much looking forward to working with you and the rest of the cast. I just realized how similar this program is to what I did in *** with ***. And although I loved doing that tour, I also remember just how much energy and commitment it required, and at this point, I don't feel I can give all that again.
Best of luck with the production. And again, my sincere apologies for any inconvenience and hassle this may cause you.
Take care,
Norman
After my first professional summer had finished I got a
lovely surprise. The theatre asked me to stay on and do their fall and winter
seasons, which included 42nd Street. Except this time the
shows were sit down productions and in 42nd Street I was cast
as “Andy Lee”. What an amazing opportunity. I had to say yes. And the money was
good…now I would be making $110 a week!
A lot of the same people from the Blue company, with whom I
had done that quickie production of 42nd Street during the summer, had also been asked. Little
did I know that some of my future best friends in the whole world would join me
on that stage and my entire life would change .
I continued with my voice lessons with the Artistic Director, who was really the first person in my professional life who actually told me I could sing and encouraged me to pursue it. Thank God (but more on that in another blog). Everything was great. I was now making $95 dollars a week. The company held $15 a week and gave it to all to you at the end of your contract as a finishing bonus. I was living high on the hog.
The cast was great. The show was great. I had a wonderful time.
The girl playing Peggy Sawyer had an interesting habit,
quirk, mannerism. I don’t know what to call it. At any rate, she didn’t look at
anyone who was on stage with her. She never ever looked at any of her scene
partners, of which I was one. She looked over, around and down but never at. A
few weeks of this coupled with the fact that she was a raging…diva...got really
annoying.
I’m not sure who was the instigator but all of Peggy Sawyer’s
scene partners gathered in one place. We decided that during the next show if
she avoided looking at her first scene partner, we’d all follow suit and give
her a taste of her own medicine.
By the way we were all really
young. Okay immature.
Anyway…
Peggy ignored her first partner and the signal was given. We
all performed our normal show, but with one subtle difference; no one ever
looked at Peggy Sawyer, not one person, not even Julian Marsh, or Dorothy Brock
or Billy Lawlor. She was completely frustrated by the time intermission came
along. She was the “star”, why wasn’t any one paying any attention to her? As
the final curtain came down after the bows she burst into tears and ran off the
stage.
It came to light that Peggy Sawyer was so insecure with her own
performance that she couldn’t look at anyone for fear of forgetting her lines,
her blocking, everything. She had decided to let the entire production suffer
instead of asking for help. Had she come to anyone of us before she
was pegged as a “diva”, we would have been glad to assist her in any way we
could. Again we were young and naive and full of idealism. There were no covert
agendas, we only cared about the good of the show and having a good time. We
certainly weren’t there for the money.
In watching Teagan perform in the show that night after four
hours of rehearsal, the entire production was elevated to a new height. Of
course everyone had the nervousness of being on stage and not knowing if
everything was going to happen the way it was supposed to happen. I mean
learning a show in four hours is no easy feat, trust me I know. But something
else happened as well, something wonderful.
The people in the show had to actually start listening to
each other and communicating with each other and relying on each other just to
get through the show in one coherent piece. The actors had to raise themselves
up to Teagan’s level of energy, personality and commitment. Finally, the show
was a show.
Unfortunately all that went out the window as soon as Teagan
left to star in a different Fringe show and my cast went on to the second leg of
their production.
The woman I had hired because we communicated so easily
together turned out to be a dud. She would continually get the same notes from
me nad the choreographer. Occasionally for one rehearsal or performance the notes were corrected. Mostly they weren't. In fact I gave her the exact
same notes from day one of rehearsal through the final performances.
This actress did her show one way and one way only. It
didn’t matter what I as the director thought or wanted, or what the
choreographer thought or wanted or how the show had morphed throughout the
rehearsal process. No matter what anyone did around her or said to her on stage,
she performed the same show every night. I would watch the show and notice the
difference in expression and intonation the other actors were finding in their
characters. Those brilliant little nuances told me these people were creating
living breathing human beings on stage, while maintaining the integrity of the show.
No matter what those live human beings input as datum, the
robot actress spewed forth the same responses with the same cadences and same
inflections.
Every action you choose as an actor, or don’t choose as the
case may be, has an effect on the other people involved in the production. You as
an actor are never alone. There are
always other people involved. One cannot have a show with only one person. Even
solo shows have a scene partner: the audience.
Robot Actress was doing a disservice to the show, to her fellow
actors and to herself by not allowing her character to breath, grow or evolve
into a real living being. She often wondered why, outside of her friends and family,
the audience didn’t appreciate her performance. It was never real or even based
in the reality of what was happening in the show.
After receiving the email from Norman I sent him the
following response:
Norman,
I realize this has nothing to do with me personally, and
everything to do with you. It’s really not an inconvenience, as finding another
actor is as simple as making a call.
Best of luck.
The reality is simple. There are tens of
thousands of “actors” in the world. Finding a warm body is easy. But it takes
time and money to replace people. Costing a company time and money is one of
the fastest ways to not get rehired. Norman cost the children’s theatre company
both time and money. He wasted my time which is worth more than money to me.
The people behind the table want to work with Actors who
don’t cost them money. That’s why sometimes a potential candidate “has to fit
the costume”...because it's already made.
The people behind the table want to work with Actors who
have the time, the energy and the willingness to give of their talent. If an actor
isn’t willing, then that actor should avoid going to the audition or even
submitting for the project.
The people behind the table want to hire people who can make
adjustments to their performances to suit the creative team’s desires, while
still being true to the character and intentions of the play. At some point the
production will be “frozen”, meaning no more unnecessary changes will occur,
but until that time all actors should be in a phase of exploration, discovery
and breathing life into their characters.
The people behind the table want to know that an actor is
going to be paying attention on stage. Someone going through the motions
of saying the same line the same way for eternity, no matter what happens on
stage, can make the whole production seem stale, flat and lifeless.
The people behind the table want talented actors who are
capable of communication on every possible level: between the artistic team,
the backstage team, the other actors and the audience.
None of these three "performers", Norman, Robot Actress, or Peggy
Sawyer, would I ever choose to work with again. Why? See the above list.
At my first professional job away from home they loved me. So they kept asking me to do other productions and seasons for them. Why? See the above list.
Both summers, then and now, had another production. Sugar
Babies was officially my very first professional show that summer long ago.
This summer had a backer’s audition for a new upcoming Off-Broadway musical.
You may have noticed that these two shows only had a passing mention at best.
It’s because these two shows had uneventful backstage and onstage stories. The actors
associated with these productions knew what was expected from them. And
they delivered. In both instances all the actors did what every actor
should be doing when rehearsing and performing. Outside of talent and look they (including Teagan) will continue to work.
Why? Well if you think about it, the difference between these two sets of actors, the ones I would love to work with again and the others, is the essence of the Art of Acting itself:
Stop. Collaborate and Listen.
