A Turned Table

I rarely direct. I'm usually on the actor side of things. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity to direct Andrew's latest play, Tracing Sonny, for Theatre Unleashed. As tends to happen with his work, I've known about the project from the start (2006) and have watched it grow into a full-length script that is at the last stages of workshopping, hitting the stage the first weekend of June.

It's no big secret that I love actors. I've learned so much from sitting in auditions as a reader, choreographer and producer. Something I've noticed as a director is that the audition is all business. The actors come in with perfectly polished monologues. Of course, they've spent lots of time with those monologues and should know every nuance from performing it so much. The audition is all about the game face. The actors keep their game faces on as they do their monologues and fumble through the cold readings, all very business-like. With all this business going on, it's a challenge to see the vulnerable artist and weigh how your creativity as the director will blend with theirs. But they tend to be pretty damn good at the audition.

Then you get into rehearsals. That's where you get to see the vulnerable artist. The actors don't have the same familiarity with the material that they have with their monologues. They make weak choices, wrong choices or no choices at all. They stumble through the words and do their best to connect the director's arbitrary blocking notes with the script. I'm not complaining; this is part of the process and I recognize this as both an actor and a director. The important thing is to give the actors the opportunity to find their way with the material so it's as familiar as those audition monologues. I know I have to give them the chance to get good, just like I want directors (and choreographers) to give me the chance to get good.

So if you find yourself in the position of director, choreographer, producer or supervisor, give the folks on your team a chance to get good. You brought them on for a reason, and chances are that they won't disappoint if you do your part to set them in the right direction and give them the space to make mistakes.

Why Bother With One Acts?

In my limited experience, the words "One Acts" on a postcard or marquee is a death knell. My theory, at least in regards to Los Angeles, is that and evening of One Acts = "Actor Showcase", that dreaded beast that virtually guarantees an evening of egos on parade and what my old acting prof called "emotional masturbation".

Yet I believe that the production of short plays is vital to the health of a company, and in particular a Theatre Tribe. The trouble is, an evening of one acts is rarely done correctly or for the right reasons.

I haven't had a successful model to point to and say "like that" in order to better illustrate my vision for short plays. Now I do.

John Kricfalusi is a curmudgeonly cuss who certainly has some opinions. You probably know him best as the creator of Red & Stimpy, the wildly anarchistic "children's" cartoon. He's also a bit of a historian of animation, and blogs frequently at www.johnkstuff.blogspot.com. Recently he began a series of posts on the subject of the whys and wherefores of cartoon shorts:

Shorts Program Goals Headings

TALENT

To Discover Talent

To Find A Director with Experience as Well as Raw Talent

To Surround the Director with like minded supporting talent

TO DEVELOP AN EFFICIENT PRODUCTION SYSTEM that allows the talent to flourish

TO LEARN FROM MISTAKES AND SUCCESSES

To Give Cartoonists Real Experience

To Bring Back Apprentice System and develop the talent

I'm not going to quote the whole thing here, because I want you to visit his blog and get the straight dope from the master himself.

Obviously, there's not a 1:1 comparison to be made between animation and live theatre. But I believe what John K is outlining may serve as a jumping off point to define a useful purpose for the production of short plays.

So what do YOU think? Should a theatre company do an evening of one acts simply because they're cheap to produce, or should we strive to use the short form as a laboratory? To throw stuff out there and see what sticks? And to what extent should we demand the audience contribute to the process (comment cards, Q&A sessions, etc.)?

I originally posted this on the Theatre Tribe group. That group seems to be on the verge of deletion, so I thought I would move it over here.

My Postcard Theories

I'm not sure if this holds true for the rest of the world, but in Los Angeles the first line of marketing is the postcard.

Postcards are ubiquitous in Los Angeles. They advertise plays, acting schools, nightclubs, taxi services, raves, escorts ... if it can be bought, sold, consumed or otherwise experienced, chances are there's a postcard advertising it. The upside of this is the ease and affordability of having mass quantities of high-quality postcards printed. The downside is the sheer volume of postcard static.

So the trick is to cut through that static, and create within the potential audience member a desire to go to the theatre. And we all know how difficult that can be, even when you’re not in direct competition with clubs and escorts.A couple of years ago I began collecting postcards, specifically those advertising theatrical events. I looked for consistent features across the array of postcards in my collection in an attempt to determine what works and what doesn’t. This wasn’t a very scientific survey, but I believe my conclusions are valid enough to share:

• Resolution is vitally important. If the postcard is all aliased or fuzzy, it looks cheap and unprofessional.
• There must be some sort of graphic representation of the show. Text-only postcards do not have the impact that a picture has. You would think this is obvious! Just as you find in really bad PowerPoint presentations, some people just like to throw a bunch of words at their audience.
• This representation should communicate the mood/spirit/theme/approach of the show in a compelling and interesting way.
• It is preferable for this representation to give the viewer a human connection. I'm partial to a photograph of the cast that invites the viewer into the scene.
• If you have a choice between a list of actors or a synopsis of the play, CHOOSE THE SYNOPSIS OF THE PLAY. This goes double for new works. Unless you have a marketable asset in the play (Val Kilmer is Moses!) a list of actors will not bring people to the show. No one will care who is in the show until they've seen the show. At that point, they'll have the actors' bio in the program and their 8 x 10's in the lobby to gaze upon.

Above is the postcard front for "Pin-Up Girls," shot by local burlesque photographer Chris Beyond. I selected the location for this shoot and did the set dressing. I placed the actresses, and "directed" them off camera as Mr. Beyond snapped away. There are a number of dirty tricks in this picture:

• The mirrors in the background add cavernous depth to an otherwise claustrophobic scene. This taken together with the soft lighting creates a womb-like (read: "inviting") environment.
• The three figures on the right are focused on a postcard. The figure on the left is lost in thought. There's a huge mystery in this scene.
• We're peering over the shoulder of the actress holding the postcard as she's turned away. We only see the back of the far right actress' head. This contributes to the mystery.
• The entire scene is vignetted, meaning there is a dark border around the central image. This contributes to the womb-like environment, and hopefully casts an "old-timey" feel over the picture.
• As mysterious as the picture is, there are patches of color, feathers, and fur in the shot. It is a play about burlesque, after all!

This picture turned out perfectly considering how deliberately set up it is. But I should point out that of all the photos Mr. Beyond shot for this postcard, only two accomplished what I hoped for (through no fault of the photographer, I should add).

And here's the back. I have had audience members come up to me and thank me for putting a synopsis of the show on the postcard! The decision to forgo actors names on the postcard has been firm company policy for Theatre Unleashed since the getgo.

"I feel ... I am ... I think ..."

Dr. Farmer, God bless him, just could not convince me that "To Be" verbs were universally weak choices. He is right, but it's the sort of lesson you kind of have to learn on your own, on stage, failing miserably. Playing a state of mind is death on stage. Acting is action, not "feeling," which is certainly not to say you should wring all the emotion out of your performance. I think Mamet is correct on this score when he says (with italics for emphasis, no less!) "Everything you ever feel onstage will be engendered by the scene." This is a quote from True and False, Mamet's exceptional book on the subject of acting.

But this is not an essay on acting. No siree, Bob. It's a brief word or two on the subject of weak playwriting.

I'm still learning. The day I stop learning is the day I hang up my spurs and start making doll house furniture. Because really, what's the point? If you know all there is to know in a certain field, why stick with it? Where's the challenge? So I approach each writing task as a chance to learn something new about how to create dramatic literature.

A lesson recently learned is a corollary to the lesson I refused to learn under Dr. Farmer's tutelage. And here it is:

Statements of personal emotional state are bad writing.

There very well may be exceptions to this rule. Mercutio's pithy "I'm hurt" springs to mind. So maybe I should hone this phrase a bit. At any rate, here is an example of what I'm talking about:

Y
So you're leaving.

X
Yes. I just feel suffocated by you.

Y
You feel suffocated by me?

X
Yes. I need room! Room to breath!

(pause)

Y
I can sleep on the couch ..?

This is just an example, and not a very good one at that. But I am loath to bring in examples of other people's work, and the bit of writing I did on Tracing Sonny that inspired this blog entry is a plot spoiler. So just bear with me.

Here's an edit:

Y
So. You're leaving.

X
Will you please just give me some room?

Y
I want to hear you say the words.

X
I can't breath! Give me some room!

(pause)

Y
Do you want the bigger closet?

So yes, this is a lame example. Hopefully it makes the point. Two hours of people walking around on stage talking about how they feel is at best self-indulgent. The same people speaking words that grow out of that emotional state is compelling. It forwards the action of the scene and engages the audience in the moment.

I reckon it's a lot easier to play, as well.

A Secretary of the Arts?

[note: I posted the following at my general subject blog on the 25th of January. I've edited it slightly for this blog.]

I know that quite a few of my fellows and friends in the theatre community are quite excited about the prospect of the President appointing a Secretary of the Arts. There is a petition online for people to sign with the hope that enough people can persuade the President to create a cabinet-level post for a Secretary of Art. However, it's a prospect that is far from certain; President Obama has far more important matters to attend to.

I haven't felt the need to speak out on this subject myself. I should probably keep my fool mouth shut on the matter. As this touches on an area near and dear to me, I feel that I must throw my two cents out there.

I do not think President Obama should appoint a Secretary of the Arts.

Art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstones of our judgment. The artist, however faithful to his personal vision of reality, becomes the last champion of the individual mind and sensibility against an intrusive society and an officious state.

-- JFK (emphasis added)

I place a high value on art. It borders on religious expression for me, as many of my past collaborators may attest. I don't expect art to change the world, but I have known it to change the lives of individuals, if only for the moment. I know that in my own life, the right song at the right moment has roused me from the depths of depression. Whenever I feel washed-out emotionally and physically a trip to the Getty Museum recharges my batteries.

I found the above quote from President Kennedy in the body of a speech entitled "The Separation of Art and State." This speech was delivered by David Boaz, Executive Vice President of the Cato Institute to the Delaware Center for Contemporary Arts in 1995. It sums up my feelings on the matter of a "Secretary of the Arts" with near perfection. Actually, the title sums it up nicely.

Imagine for a moment that someone were proposing a Secretary of the News Media or Secretary of Peaceable Assemblage. It's a no-brainer, right? Freedom of expression, as well as the freedom of the press and the right to peaceably assemble is guaranteed by the first amendment. Why would we want to petition for bureaucratic centralization of the Arts? There is a quote from the above mentioned speech that speaks to this very issue. It's kind of long, but worth the read:

The latest newsletter from People for the American Way identifies a lot of threats to free expression. Some involve an actual assault on private actions--such as censorship of the Internet, a ban on flag-burning, a denial of tax exemption to groups that support ideas some congressman doesn't like--and fortunately the First Amendment will protect us from most of these. But most of them involve restrictions on the way government funds can be used. Duke University law professor Walter Dellinger, now a member of the Clinton White House, warned recently that such rules are "especially alarming in light of the growing role of government as subsidizer, landlord, employer and patron of the arts."

Keep in mind that this speech is concerned primarily with the National Endowment for the Arts, and was delivered during the Clinton presidency -- a very arts-friendly administration! Multiply this scenario by an executive department on par with the Department of the Treasury, the Justice Department, the Department of Labor, the Department of Commerce ... are you beginning to see the problem?

Bureaucracies must create work for themselves to justify their very existence. This means regulation. Don't get me wrong, some regulations are good. Protect the little guy against entrenched power -- please! I'm that little guy. But I also believe, "That government is best which governs least." In short, if they don't regulate it, they can't take it away. Fewer cages means more freedom, plain and simple.

"But this is the Obama administration," you may say. "President Obama would never allow something so diabolical as regulation of the arts to occur!" True, but Obama will only serve at most eight years in office. Are you willing to run the risk that the next president won't regulate the arts? What if the country swings hard-right and elects a Pat Buchanan? What if it swings hard-left and elects a Tipper Gore?

So that's worse case scenario: a government agency which regulates art. It's not the likeliest scenario. But how likely was it that torture would become a sanctioned approach to interrogation?

It is not lost on me that the appointment of a Secretary of the Arts would be a largely symbolic gesture. Why in God's name should we pay $193,400 a year for the highly symbolic job of Secretary of Art? And that's just the salary for a cabinet-level position. It does not include the expenses of such an office, including the staff and overheard. It would certainly cost more than the budget of the NEA, which will top out at just over $144 million this year. The Department of Education is the smallest cabinet-level department, and it has an annual budget of nearly $69 billion. You can figure a Department of the Arts would have a budget somewhere between those two numbers, which would be a lot to pay for symbolism.

This is a matter of politics, and I understand how passionately people may feel about this. I am open to differences of opinion, and would be happy to hear other points of view.

Life After the Play

I've had a much harder time "getting back to reality" after the close of Pin-Up Girls than I have after any other play in which I have been involved. The four day holiday weekend did not help. There was a certain quality to the comraderie that developed backstage, a quality that I exposed myself to as often as possible. I even slipped backstage during intermission each night to hang out with the cast. It was pleasurable, and addictive. Naturally, being deprived of it has led to some withdrawal pains.

Being the kind of man I am, it is moments like these that lead me to quoting Kermit the Frog:

Yeah, well, I've got a dream too, but it's about singing and dancing and making people happy. That's the kind of dream that gets better the more people you share it with. And... well, I've found a whole bunch of friends who have the same dream. And that makes us like a family.

Truer words have never been spoken by a frog.

Theatre has an ephemeral property, and theatre folk are constantly on the move, transitioning from project to project. This is equally true of all the performing arts, but unlike movies and television, we don't have a DVD copy at the end of the day. I believe this is a good thing. There is nothing more exciting and bracing than uncertainty. Yes, uncertainty can be quite worrisome, as in waiting for the results of a blood test or an election. But there is that incredible rush one gets when boldly facing the unknown and stepping forward into the inky blackness.

I would like to call this attitude "owning the future" and here do state that it is a quality germain to the artist, entrepreneur and explorer. (All three of these are essentially the same person, by the way.) "Owning the future" sounds better than "chasing the next fix" at any rate.

Theatre Unleashed, part of my Los Angeles family, continues to own the future. The great thing about being strong in numbers (and we have grown to just over forty members in less than a year) is our capacity to hit the ground running with our next production. At the moment that next production is The Holidays Unleashed, a variety show similar to May's Theatre Unleashed Presents Theatre Unleashed Starring ... Theatre Unleashed!!! This shall be the perfect bookend to a perfect season. And so I leave you with the particulars of our final offering for 2008:

The Holidays Unleashed
Directed by Darci Dixon and Phillip Kelly
Produced by Theatre Unleashed

SYNOPSIS:
Done in the tradition of holiday variety shows of the 1950s and 60s, The Holidays Unleashed features a plethora of entertaining acts. Lead by two Rat Packish (in theory) emcees, the show features a few classic holiday song and dance numbers, a traditional caroling group called The Figgy Puddings, a disturbingly sexy burlesque piece, lots and lots of slapstick and a few skits involving everyone’s favorite20holiday celebrities. But the real fun begins when the show starts to…well…stray a little off course. The all-important holiday message, though, remains intact throughout.

DATES AND TIMES:
December 15
Monday, 8 p.m. (doors at 7 p.m.)
*Meet and greet with the actors after the shows.

LOCATION:
M Bar
1253 N. Vine St.
Hol lywood, CA 90038

TICKET PRICES:
General Admission: $10
*Plus $10 food and drink minimum.

INFORMATION & RESERVATIONS:
Reservations Strongly Suggested!!!
For reservations, call (323) 856-0036
For further information, please call: (818) 849-4039Or check out our website at: http://www.theatreunleashed.com/

Now That It's Over

I want to share a lesson I learned as a producer this time. You might want to write this down or bookmark this page. Learn how to pick your people.

Let me give you an example from casting. You have two people come in and audition for the same role. One isn't as talented as the other but is easier to work with in the casting session. The other actor is talented, talks the talk and sounds great but is tougher to work with. Let's say your director meets this actor first (and I'm not really talking about actors from our show) and sees the talent and listens to the sales pitch and is sold. The director comes to you and tells you how great this actor is and how much you're going to love this person. You meet the person, expecting to love the person, and are pleased by what you see in the portfolio -- er, audition -- and how much research has gone into this actor's work for this role. Wow! That's pretty keen. The actor is very effusive with you. It looks like this might work out.

Okay, I'm not really talking about actors at all. Let's drop the charade. Your designer (that's nice and vague, right?) seems like a wonderful person. As an actor, you drop a couple hundred on the table to pay for some pieces this designer is supposed to design so you can keep them later because that's how much confidence you have in this person based on recommendation and what you've seen in the research. You offer assistance and assistants for the months leading up to the show so this person isn't overwhelmed and so everything gets done. You offer shopping help since you know the places to get deals on things for this kind of show. You help when allowed by the designer, providing hours of service, comfort and chocolate. You take home things to help lighten the load when you should be working on your lines, but as a producer you have to make sure it gets done. You spend time at your day job fielding phone calls so the work is done by opening night. You defend this person when she attacks your theatre executives on more than one occasion, and you bite your lip and let it slide when she says the executives are out to sabotage the production three days before opening when you have nearly nothing to show for your personal financial investment. The executives are out to sabotage it? Really?

That's not all, folks. As an actor, you wind up in a hoodie for the dress rehearsal because your costume isn't done. There are finishing touches to be done on other costumes but there's one person (you) who doesn't have anything to wear for most of an act of the play. You've gotten sick from the stress of the thing and never took the initiative to take the reigns, seize the materials and do it yourself because you thought this person might deliver without upsetting more people. Opening night you have something to wear. You spend time every weekend making repairs to your costume, finishing things that weren't done. Other actresses in the show have to do the same thing. This person has worked out wonderfully as a stylist for two photo shoots to promote the show, but not so much in building costumes by a deadline.

And right before the show closes, you are dissed by your costume designer to the director, fellow actors and random people you've never met. You're called insistent because you wanted to make sure the materials purchased were actually used. (There isn't a money hose in non-profit theatre to run out and buy more fabric when the designer jumps ship on a design.) You're picked on for asking if a costume could be in another color long before materials were purchased, fine with a different color being used if necessary but being told by the designer at the time that it wasn't a problem at all. (Remember, you're paying for the materials so this request isn't that uncalled for.) You're also accused of changing the costume yourself at the last minute before opening night. Gee, that would've been possible if you actually had a costume! Your director and theatre executives have been ragged on and ranted about and your photographer has been reamed. All of these people are working for free, and the stress is really unnecessary. You feel like you've been attacked by a rabid dog.

So, in closing, I've learned to pay attention to my people training. I know how to choose my people but I have to remember to apply what I know. It's always been my policy to go with the person who is easier to work with and may or may not be as talented.

SOLD OUT!!!

The run of Pin-Up Girls is now officially half-over. Last night was our biggest night yet; we were oversold by two seats! We actually had to bring in folding chairs. The after show ("The High Jinks Burlesque") was nearly sold out. I think we had one or two empty seats.

So here's the deal: If you want to see this show, MAKE YOUR RESERVATIONS NOW! The last weeks of any show's run are always the busiest. You can buy tickets through Goldstar, Brown Paper Tickets, or just call our ticket hotline and reserve your seats to pay in cash on the day of the show.

We will not extend the run! The Avery Schreiber is booked up after our run ends. Sunday, the 23rd of November, we're pulling down the walls of the High Jinks and putting the costumes in storage. But today the play is alive, and we welcome you in to our house!

www.theatreunleashed.com is your source for ticket details, times, etc. Our ticket hotline is (818) 849-4039.

“The principles offer lovely performances.”
Steven Leigh Morris – LA Weekly, October 2008

“An intriguing tale of what love means to people and how they show it, Theatre Unleashed’s production of Pin-Up Girls features fine acting and production work.”
Mary Mallory – The Tolucan Times, October 2008

“Acting is uniformly excellent…”
Mary Mallory – The Tolucan Times, October 2008

"[A] poignant reflection on relationships pulled apart by time and circumstance ..."
Philip Brandes – The Los Angeles Times, November 2008

"Moore's nostalgic affection for the tough-talking gals of the 1940s is obvious. With so many men shipped off to fight overseas, the six well-delineated strippers of San Francisco's Hi Jinks club have no one but themselves to rely on."
Philip Brandes – The Los Angeles Times, November 2008