Archive for the ‘Theatrical Intelligence’ Category

A Leap of Faith: Actor. Warrior. Hero.

Rich Topol: Actor. Warrior. Hero

Rich Topol: Actor. Warrior. Hero

I just completed directing a project in the 29th Annual Octoberfest at the Ensemble Studio Theatre* in New York’s Hell’s Kitchen. I am writing this blogpost because an exceptional actor named Richard Topol has inspired me. Rich, as everyone calls him, is a perfect example that actors are as courageous as any warrior. Truly, they are heroes.

Rich probably has no idea how much his work meant to me in the few days we worked together.  I suspect he believes he was just doing what he does as an actor.

The project was David Perry’s Eulogy, a one-person play in which a man comes to an emotional reckoning with his abusive mother as he eulogizes her. The play could be described as the technical equivalent of singing four arias in forty minutes and performing Hamlet’s soliloquies in between. And this with one rehearsal.

I had seen Rich on Broadway in a hilarious and heart wrenching performance in Awake and Sing, but met him for the first time at our one rehearsal prior to the two readings. Within 5 minutes it was clear that he trusts himself to exist fully in the moment; if he gets lost along the way he has the courage to live in the unknown – essentially in free-fall – until he discovers something he can grab on to and move on. This, of course is one of the principles of Theatrical Intelligence: success comes with having the courage to step into the unknown.

Actors must find a comfort level with whatever they’re doing, and a staged reading of a demanding script in front of a savvy audience with virtually no rehearsal can be daunting. Many actors just won’t do it. Understandable. It is rather like being asked to jump off a cliff not knowing if your parachute is going to open. Other actors, and Rich is one, are willing to take that leap of faith, and jump.

In the talkback after the first of the two readings, when asked about his experience during the “performance”, Rich responded  “It was exhausting! Sometimes I didn’t remember what was coming next on the page, and when I got there it wasn’t what I expected. So I thought, OK, I’ll live here for a while and just see what happens.”

86 Plays. 38 Days.

86 Plays. 38 Days

What if we could all live this way every day? “Live here for a while…” not knowing where it might lead. If we can trust that it is OK not to know where we are emotionally or intellectually or spiritually, it leaves open the possibility of discovery. If we are open to discovery, just think what new things we can learn!

Billy Carden, the Artistic Director of EST, says: “…if you believe in discovery, if you want to be entertained by the unexpected, surprised by the spontaneous, if you want to hear a new voice for the first time, or a familiar voice in a new way, if you want to experience the spirit of work in progress: join us.”

Thank you, Rich, for your leap of faith. You are a hero.


*EST was founded in 1972 to nurture individual theatre artists in the development of new American plays, and has produced 6,000+ new works over the decades.  I have been a lucky member of this family of 500 theatre artists since 1977.

Follow Your Fear

(Or “Is That a Dead Moose on the Table?!”)

 

Recently a Theatrical Intelligence blog reader posted a question about conflict in the workplace; she wondered if using theatrical intelligence could help resolve the tricky issues of conflict that frequently occur at work. The answer is yes, Yasmin, and thank you for asking.

Many of us have a fear of conflict at work, which is often reminiscent of family quarrels and hierarchy. We tend to go to great lengths to avoid it, because it makes us feel embarrassed, uncomfortable, and often powerless.

It would benefit us to follow one of the guiding principles of improvisation: “follow your fear”.1

When professional actors improvise in performance, they actually look for obstacles to overcome. Obstacles provide dramatic conflict and the opportunity to venture into unexplored territory. “Following one’s fear…” authentically, under imaginary circumstances, is a proven improvisational technique; it produces behavior that can be eccentric, paranoid, emotionally unpredictable and frequently humorous in a surprising kind of way.

There is only one way to really screw up in improvisation: deny reality.  For example, when two actors are on stage and one of them puts her jacket over her head to protect her from… whatever… the reality of the imaginary circumstances has been established. The other actor accepts it as a gift and immediately uses it. Is it raining? Snowing? Are there pigeons above? Is paint dripping? One or the other will establish what the jacket is protecting them from, and that will be the reality they share and build upon.

Acceptance of the reality, as it is being established, is paramount, in order to build a concrete story.

In many workplaces a denial of reality is the norm. We’ve all experienced situations where there is no acknowledgment of what is really happening (hence the expressions: “the elephant in the room” or “the dead moose on the table”).

Denial of reality inevitably breaks down trust and builds up fear. Acceptance of reality opens up worlds of possibility.  What if you were to “follow your fear” in the face of a workplace conflict? What if you were to have the courage to say “The dead moose on the table is beginning to smell – what shall we do about it?”

I suspect that you and your colleagues at work might discover unexpected behavior and opportunity. Accept the response as a gift, just like in improvisation. Follow your fear, and see what happens.

1 This expression was coined by the late great Del Close at Second City, about 50 years ago.

In Memory of my Mom – Origins and Influences

Theatrical Intelligence in Triplicate

Mom died 2 weeks ago. Jeanne O’Sullivan Sachs: Oct 15, 1920 – July 19, 2009. I was blessed to be with her as she made her final exit, as were my siblings.  In her honor, I post “Three Moms”, taken by my younger brother Bob. It is the quintessential Mom: elegant, poised, and laughing at the delicious irony of life. “See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil.”

I’ll be posting my thoughts about my mother as soon as I have the presence of mind to edit my daily “ritual writings”. She had Theatrical Intelligence in abundance!

In the meantime, I’d like to share the a piece of writing dictated by Mom to me on Thanksgiving Day, 2007. She was 87. Our family was playing a game from Mary Pipher’s Writing to Save the World, called “I am from…” It’s about origins and influences.

So ladies and gentlemen, in her own words, Jeanne O’Sullivan Sachs:

* I am from Mortimer O’Sullivan, Patrick Ahearn, Ellen O’Brien, Agnes Ahearn, and John Mortimer O’Sullivan.

* I am from Irish Catholics and Irish Catholics and Irish Catholics and Irish Catholics!

* I am from Ireland, Ballyporene and green and history and the brogue.

* I am from Billerica and Boston.

* I am from “Children are seen and not heard”; “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”; “A book is your friend, you must not destroy it” and mass on Sunday morning (as late as possible for Dad!)

* I am from Mildred McKean the music supervisor telling my parents “You have a very gifted child” and arranging a cello for me.

* I am from… (no, that sounds too braggy!)

* I am from my doll Betty, a gift from Grandfather Ahearn – tailor to Harvard Square – making me jodhpurs when I was thirteen.

* I am from cello recitals and music camp as one of the professionals (I don’t know how they found me!)

* I am from summers on the Cape with my brothers and sisters in Wellfleet.

* I am from sitting at the soda counter and ordering an ice cream sundae while Dad always had a coke and said “…add a little lemon.” That was so grown-up!

* I am from Children’s Hospital and Sidney Farber at Harvard and Faure’s cello sonata which was when Ernie fell in love with me.

* I am from daffodils and 4/3/43, our wedding day.

* I am from 54 months of pregnancy, six kids, being a chauffeur, learning to ski, teaching cello, founding an orchestra and getting my masters – it didn’t take very long – they gave me credit for life.

* I am from my six children and my thirteen grandchildren and my great-grandson Jack and more “greats” on the way. (Good “Jeannes and Ernies”.)

* I am from…four score and seven years ago!

R.I.P. Mom.

Your final words were “Love you”. Thank you for everything. Love you too.

 

A Theatre Speaks

many-unions

I often think that there should be a large sign on the office wall of every person who works in a theatre building: I CARE ABOUT YOU!  Who is the “You”, you may wonder?

You, the performer; you, the playwright; you, the stagehand; you, the theatre owner; you, the designer; you, the audience member…It is a mighty list!

And who is this sign from? The theatre you’re standing in.

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