Elizabeth Stanley
Sheep's Meadow, Central Park, New York
May 12, 2011
13 October, 2011
09 October, 2011
Ten Years.
I don't know how to begin this post.
I wasn't even sure if I should write this post.
Sometimes in life we entertain, other times we share, inform, revel, reflect. And rarely, we risk revealing a crack in the door enclosing the "other things." The things that cannot always be seen, or held in your hand and observed in words. The unutterables. The deeply felt.
The loss of my father has been the defining mythology of my entire adult life.
I wanted to mark this moment.
Readers: today is the ten year anniversary of the death of my father, Michael Silber.
Mike to some.
Mikey to others.
Papa to me.
Sometimes my inner ocean still swells about it.
I think about those moments that I connect with him in the present as an adult.
I think about his charisma, his star power, his blinding intellect and vision.
I think about all of the things he loved about me and vice versa,
all the things he wanted for me, fought for, in many ways literally gave his life for.
I think about him.
Grief is a place, a land we all shall visit, a familiar yet foreign land. You sit at the tables in the town square and without warning the skyline transforms before you, the seats below you shift, the beverage you are drinking morphs into another. One can never feel at ease there, only become more acclimatized to the nature of the ever-changing place, learn the rules, the language, the customs--to embrace the cold and strange, but be at peace with it. Because you must: in the Land of Grief it is not only the cushions that alter, you alter too. And often, you don't always notice when you do.
But sometimes there is nothing you can do about pure, unadulterated, weighted, roaring sorrow...
We may, we have the choice, and frankly we have every right to curl up and die.
I would not blame those that do.
All I know is something within me refused to.
Something within me would not allow it.
I chose to live.
To really live.
Were there days when all I desired was to merely wake up and breathe, to just allow my heart to beat, not truly caring whether it continued? Yes.
But I did not chose to live because there didn't seem to be another choice,
not because it is what my Dad would have wanted,
I lived because I wanted to.
Ultimately, I found a place deeper than that; an invisible but palpable place with ground as sturdy and immovable and as glittering as diamonds-- to lift up. To surface, and eat at the banquet of the living, even when that meant doing so bite by painstaking bite.
I look back at the child I was, the gifted, old soul, yes; but mostly the inexperienced child facing so much, so many grown up troubles on top of the already heavy decisions and changes associated with that time in everyone's life.
She was cut off at the knees (for no matter how much we think we know when we are 17-18, we are not done being raised. Are we ever?)
I look back at her as if she were someone else and I want to hug her and tell her it will be alright.
Tell her that she is stronger than she knows.
That even though she has no reason to believe that she will ever be happy again, that she will.
Tell her that because she will survive this, she never has to be afraid again.
I would not judge her now as I judged myself then.
I would not tell her (because she would scarcely have believed me) that she will soar to the top of every one of her dreams.
I learned in Scotland that sometimes we must "act as if."
I learned in London that life does get better. That it ebbs and flows.
I learned from the people that loved me before, and the people I met along the way, that love is infinite.
I learned from Fiddler on the Roof, that when you utter "Papa, God alone knows when we'll see each other again..." every day, that the only choice is to believe the response "Then we shall leave it in His hands..."
I learned from Carousel to understand the nature of what my mother lost-- what it really means to not merely lose someone, but to lose the only one.
I learned Fear.
I learned Shame. And Regret.
and Endurance.
I learned Ugliness.
and a deeply personal kind of Faith.
I learned that Love Keeps Going.
I learned Patience, Serenity and Courage.
and Gratitude...
...for it is only in the depths of Grief that we truly learn to value Life.
I have had the greatest adventures anyone could ever hope for. I pinch myself almost every day asking myself "is this real life?" does one person truly get to experience every kind of dream? The people I have met, the places I've been, the quantity and quality of every experience, every opportunity, every travel, conversation, job, every glorious triumph, every accomplishment and celebration and happiness...
Reader:
I would trade it all for only. one. thing.
...But that is not how it works.
We cannot make such trades, and so, we must accept with all our hearts what is, what we cannot change, and do as much as we can with the circumstances we've been handed. Do not wish or pray away the pain, ask for the strength to endure it so that we may use it for further understanding, to view each trial as an opportunity for blessing. Before we can rebuild our life, we must come to know the peace that accompanies acceptance, for out of peace arises the willingness and the wisdom to greet each day with the freedom of an open, loving, trusting, and resilient heart.
It has been said that wisdom is a map upon which to follow the journey of the spirit.
Wisdom is precious.
And wisdom is earned.
Thank you Papa.
Thank you Grief.
A decade on, I feel stronger, and more grateful than ever.
I wasn't even sure if I should write this post.
Sometimes in life we entertain, other times we share, inform, revel, reflect. And rarely, we risk revealing a crack in the door enclosing the "other things." The things that cannot always be seen, or held in your hand and observed in words. The unutterables. The deeply felt.
The loss of my father has been the defining mythology of my entire adult life.
I wanted to mark this moment.
Readers: today is the ten year anniversary of the death of my father, Michael Silber.
Mike to some.
Mikey to others.
Papa to me.
Sometimes my inner ocean still swells about it.
I think about those moments that I connect with him in the present as an adult.
I think about his charisma, his star power, his blinding intellect and vision.
I think about all of the things he loved about me and vice versa,
all the things he wanted for me, fought for, in many ways literally gave his life for.
I think about him.
Grief is a place, a land we all shall visit, a familiar yet foreign land. You sit at the tables in the town square and without warning the skyline transforms before you, the seats below you shift, the beverage you are drinking morphs into another. One can never feel at ease there, only become more acclimatized to the nature of the ever-changing place, learn the rules, the language, the customs--to embrace the cold and strange, but be at peace with it. Because you must: in the Land of Grief it is not only the cushions that alter, you alter too. And often, you don't always notice when you do.
But sometimes there is nothing you can do about pure, unadulterated, weighted, roaring sorrow...
We may, we have the choice, and frankly we have every right to curl up and die.
I would not blame those that do.
All I know is something within me refused to.
Something within me would not allow it.
I chose to live.
To really live.
Were there days when all I desired was to merely wake up and breathe, to just allow my heart to beat, not truly caring whether it continued? Yes.
But I did not chose to live because there didn't seem to be another choice,
not because it is what my Dad would have wanted,
I lived because I wanted to.
Ultimately, I found a place deeper than that; an invisible but palpable place with ground as sturdy and immovable and as glittering as diamonds-- to lift up. To surface, and eat at the banquet of the living, even when that meant doing so bite by painstaking bite.
I look back at the child I was, the gifted, old soul, yes; but mostly the inexperienced child facing so much, so many grown up troubles on top of the already heavy decisions and changes associated with that time in everyone's life.
She was cut off at the knees (for no matter how much we think we know when we are 17-18, we are not done being raised. Are we ever?)
I look back at her as if she were someone else and I want to hug her and tell her it will be alright.
Tell her that she is stronger than she knows.
That even though she has no reason to believe that she will ever be happy again, that she will.
Tell her that because she will survive this, she never has to be afraid again.
I would not judge her now as I judged myself then.
I would not tell her (because she would scarcely have believed me) that she will soar to the top of every one of her dreams.
I learned in Scotland that sometimes we must "act as if."
I learned in London that life does get better. That it ebbs and flows.
I learned from the people that loved me before, and the people I met along the way, that love is infinite.
I learned from Fiddler on the Roof, that when you utter "Papa, God alone knows when we'll see each other again..." every day, that the only choice is to believe the response "Then we shall leave it in His hands..."
I learned from Carousel to understand the nature of what my mother lost-- what it really means to not merely lose someone, but to lose the only one.
I learned Fear.
I learned Shame. And Regret.
and Endurance.
I learned Ugliness.
and a deeply personal kind of Faith.
I learned that Love Keeps Going.
I learned Patience, Serenity and Courage.
and Gratitude...
...for it is only in the depths of Grief that we truly learn to value Life.
I have had the greatest adventures anyone could ever hope for. I pinch myself almost every day asking myself "is this real life?" does one person truly get to experience every kind of dream? The people I have met, the places I've been, the quantity and quality of every experience, every opportunity, every travel, conversation, job, every glorious triumph, every accomplishment and celebration and happiness...
Reader:
I would trade it all for only. one. thing.
...But that is not how it works.
We cannot make such trades, and so, we must accept with all our hearts what is, what we cannot change, and do as much as we can with the circumstances we've been handed. Do not wish or pray away the pain, ask for the strength to endure it so that we may use it for further understanding, to view each trial as an opportunity for blessing. Before we can rebuild our life, we must come to know the peace that accompanies acceptance, for out of peace arises the willingness and the wisdom to greet each day with the freedom of an open, loving, trusting, and resilient heart.
It has been said that wisdom is a map upon which to follow the journey of the spirit.
Wisdom is precious.
And wisdom is earned.
Thank you Papa.
Thank you Grief.
A decade on, I feel stronger, and more grateful than ever.
"She was no longer wrestling with the grief,
but could sit down with it as a lasting companion
and make it a sharer in her thoughts."- George Eliot
05 October, 2011
London Still at The Kennedy Center
All! Today you can book your tickets for my solo cabaret show "London Still: A Classic Tale of 'There and Back Again'" -- The cabaret will in many ways be a 'musicalization' of this blog-- which is why it bears the same title.There will be stories, familiar and new.
There will be songs (of course) familiar and new (to name a few: Weill, Kander, Herman, Kern, Blumenkrantz, Horne, Bock & Harnick and Rodgers & Hammerstein... of course...)
Musical direction and arrangements will be by the in-cre-dible Grammy Nominated Andy Einhorn (MD of the famed Sondheim on Sondheim at the Roundabout last season.
And see you there...
"Not your typical ingénue" (Los Angeles Times), Alexandra Silber's compelling stage presence and sweet soprano push her deeper into the roles she's brought to West End and Broadway audiences. Her credits include an arresting Julie Jordan in the West End production of Carousel, the fiery Hodel in Fiddler on the Roof, and the entangled Laura Fairlie in The Woman in White. Silber also played Sophie De Palma in the Kennedy Center production of Master Class opposite Tyne Daly as well as its subsequent Broadway production, and made her American stage debut in Reprise Theatre Company's Carousel. Now with her cabaret act London Still, she is set to entrance the Spotlight audience"
03 October, 2011
Elementary School Crushes
 |
| Sweet baboo |
And where are they now?
I am not on Facebook so this investigative reporting is OLD SCHOOL.
Andrew Moylan
Andrew and I sat next to each other in both Mrs. Overmeyer's 6th grade World Cultures class, as well as one kick ass, legendary quad-table in last period Art. He was so cute. And freckly. And he got stung by a bee in the face once. I think we hung out at the local town fair and went on the "Kamikaze" twice in a row (which I only did to try to be cool). Crucially, this is the kicker: he had red hair...and you know how I feel about that...
Andrew studied Political science at University of Michigan and is now Vice President of Government Affairs at National Taxpayers Union. He is married and lives in Arlington, Virginia.
And, I am only deducing this from the internet, but I think he is.... in the Tea Party...which iiiiis deeply... a lot of adjectives I won't bother to write... But! On a lighter note is apparently an accomplished "Cross Fitter" which sounds super bad-ass. ...And, happily, he still appears to be a redhead (though wears his beard in what I would declare to be a rather controversial look commonly referred to as the "Chin Curtain" --this is a beard unaccompanied by a mustache that grows down from the sideburns and along the jawline, completely covering the chin. It was Abraham Lincoln's style which is why it is sometimes referred to as the "Lincolnic"...which sounds.... not so great...)
Josh Grant
JoshGrant (he is one of those people whose full name you felt inclined to say inonego) and I attended theatre summer day camp together in 1994-- this is before Interlochen (that is seriously going back in time...). That summer, we did Peter Pan. I played Peter Pan and JoshGrant played Captain Hook.
Later on I would (prepare yourself, this entire sentence is ridiculous)
1. go to a private Jewish Day School's 7th grade performance of
2. The Sound of Music to
3. support my friend Shira from Ballet who was
4. playing the role of Max Detweiler, only to discover that
5. Josh Grant was playing Captain Von Trapp (I suppose he cornered the market for playing middle school versions of sea-faring men?) and
6. The entire production was to be performed in Hebrew on
7. Groundhog Day.
Josh is now an Ophthalmology Resident at University of South Florida.
Tavi Stutz
 |
| Tavi Stutz: AERIALIST. |
Tavi now? I am not joking, he is an aerialist in the circus and currently in Cirque Du Soleil. Whatever. Amazing. (Oddly I know quite a few people involved in Cirque-- who would've thunk?) Tavi had never really danced before Carousel and I always wonder if the Dream Ballet ever influenced him?
Erik Wagenheim
A couple of weeks ago I went to the opening of Follies on Broadway. I was pleased to casually drop the following piece of trivia:
"I really don't know this musical at all. I know the premiss and some of the songs, but mostly I'm a Follies virgin. Though, I would be totally lying if I said that I didn't close the 5th grade talent show with 'Broadway Baby.'"
Well, I did. I want to say I closed the 5th grade talent show with "Losing My Mind' but it would be a lie. A great, funny lie, but a lie nonetheless and anyhow I was adorable with my suitcase and full-on period concept costume. (In an related note: one of the weirdest elements of it looking back is that my accompanist was actor Jonathan Hammond, whom I just recently reconnected with in New York playing opposite in Hello Again..... I mean talk about "helloooooo AGAIN," right?!)
Anyway Eric played a Smashing Pumpkins song on the guitar in that talent show and it was pretty good. I have no idea where he is now but he was always a bit of a jerk to me and I recall when I worked in a diner in High School he came in, didn't remember me, was sort of rude and the Greek girls I worked with insisted they spike his food with mischief and I let them. I'm sure he's a perfectly nice adult.
...What about you?
02 October, 2011
Sometimes I spend a lot of time alone...
The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
29 September, 2011
27 September, 2011
Things I love about...Part 1
Just a few things that I love about . . .
mom
- don’t get between my mom and a power tool
- if I didn't have Mom, I would need a personal assistant, tailor, personal shopper, therapist, home decorator, handy-man and General Practitioner.
- she is just, genuinely, fun, smart, deep and amazing, and if I met her in real life I would be desperate for her to be my best friend.
- one time, when I had a migraine, she ran me a bath and to distract me, read me the entire package of Epsom Salts with total sincerity and in quiet, soothing "migraine voice" to boot -- (e.g: "...so as you can see Al, not only is this bag suitable for migraines, constipation, and fertilizer, but if you have any questions about what I've just read to you, all you have to do is call 1-800-777-3415 in what looks like Indianapolis, and they can answer your questions between 8-8 Eastern Standard Time...").
- Catherine with a "C", like "The Great"? That is where it is at...
emma
- how her shoes match always match her handbag (and not in the euphemistic way)
- she reads books. like me.
- is a "cat lady" too...
- has some absolutely world-class legs people. Let. Me. Tell. You.
- which is probably why she loves shoes as passionately as she does (her soon-to-be-husband even proposed to her with shoes... now that's a man who knows his lady!)
- she is scary smart.
- and understanding.
- and possesses the perfect balance of self-awareness, honesty, humility and pride in herself to be one of the most self-possessed and loving people I know.
tasha
- she possesses un.wav.er.ing love for her friends and family and has no problems showing it.
- our mutual love of the west wing
- that she says I am “with the words”
- she gets all my British postand isn't annoyed by that one bit.
- Is famous for exclaiming "OH AL!" when I do something characteristically ridiculous, or fabulous, or any combination thereof.
- Named her child DAISY. Because she "liked it!"
- is so brave
- and together
- and I am not exaggerating one bit when I tell you that Tasha Sheridan literally, in every sense of the word, saved my life. That's a friend.
astoria
- some of the greatest restaurants in the city (beer gardens galore, brick café, bareburger, ovelia, Queens Kickshaw, Greek food galore, and café after café...)
- you can walk everywhere, to anything
- incredible vintage clothing
- real people (no hipsters, no overly trendy new yorkers, just real-ass people and yes a couple of actors too but those are "my people" after all)
- kaufman astoria studios and cinema
- the museum of the moving image (there is currently a Jim Henson exhibit-- go!)
- The East River and all it brings: the astoria farmers market, outdoor river yoga, the gorgeous Socrates sculpture park, movie screenings, and the riverfront trolly...
- I mean, Why Leave Astoria? (.com...) Ever?
zoë
- that °°mlaut over the "e" is just... *so* awesome
- her gorgeous and adorable northern irish accent
- she has the most beautiful skin on planet EARTH (with NO pores— I have no idea how her skin breathes…)
- her nickname is Poe (pronounced "Po") and I don't even recall how that started
- there is nothing like watching a person grow into themselves, into their femininity, abilities, thoughts, and dreams. Zoë has the courage to do all that and then-some. I've loved cheering her on.
- I have hugged her in more cities across the world than any other friend.
- don’t get between my mom and a power tool
- if I didn't have Mom, I would need a personal assistant, tailor, personal shopper, therapist, home decorator, handy-man and General Practitioner.
- she is just, genuinely, fun, smart, deep and amazing, and if I met her in real life I would be desperate for her to be my best friend.
- one time, when I had a migraine, she ran me a bath and to distract me, read me the entire package of Epsom Salts with total sincerity and in quiet, soothing "migraine voice" to boot -- (e.g: "...so as you can see Al, not only is this bag suitable for migraines, constipation, and fertilizer, but if you have any questions about what I've just read to you, all you have to do is call 1-800-777-3415 in what looks like Indianapolis, and they can answer your questions between 8-8 Eastern Standard Time...").
- Catherine with a "C", like "The Great"? That is where it is at...
 |
| emma |
- how her shoes match always match her handbag (and not in the euphemistic way)
- she reads books. like me.
- is a "cat lady" too...
- has some absolutely world-class legs people. Let. Me. Tell. You.
- which is probably why she loves shoes as passionately as she does (her soon-to-be-husband even proposed to her with shoes... now that's a man who knows his lady!)
- she is scary smart.
- and understanding.
- and possesses the perfect balance of self-awareness, honesty, humility and pride in herself to be one of the most self-possessed and loving people I know.
- she possesses un.wav.er.ing love for her friends and family and has no problems showing it.
- our mutual love of the west wing
- that she says I am “with the words”
- she gets all my British postand isn't annoyed by that one bit.
- Is famous for exclaiming "OH AL!" when I do something characteristically ridiculous, or fabulous, or any combination thereof.
- Named her child DAISY. Because she "liked it!"
- is so brave
- and together
- and I am not exaggerating one bit when I tell you that Tasha Sheridan literally, in every sense of the word, saved my life. That's a friend.
astoria
- some of the greatest restaurants in the city (beer gardens galore, brick café, bareburger, ovelia, Queens Kickshaw, Greek food galore, and café after café...)
- you can walk everywhere, to anything
- incredible vintage clothing
- real people (no hipsters, no overly trendy new yorkers, just real-ass people and yes a couple of actors too but those are "my people" after all)
- kaufman astoria studios and cinema
- the museum of the moving image (there is currently a Jim Henson exhibit-- go!)
- The East River and all it brings: the astoria farmers market, outdoor river yoga, the gorgeous Socrates sculpture park, movie screenings, and the riverfront trolly...
- I mean, Why Leave Astoria? (.com...) Ever?
- that °°mlaut over the "e" is just... *so* awesome
- her gorgeous and adorable northern irish accent
- she has the most beautiful skin on planet EARTH (with NO pores— I have no idea how her skin breathes…)
- her nickname is Poe (pronounced "Po") and I don't even recall how that started
- there is nothing like watching a person grow into themselves, into their femininity, abilities, thoughts, and dreams. Zoë has the courage to do all that and then-some. I've loved cheering her on.
- I have hugged her in more cities across the world than any other friend.
23 September, 2011
Ask Al: Finding Your "Type"
Hi Alexandra,
I just read your Contemporary Speeches blog - and it was very informative. I have also found finding contemporary speeches really difficult... classical seems easier.
I'm more concerned with "type." How do you really find out your type? And I mean a specific type (like the example you gave of Meg Ryan versus "just the ingenue").
It's something that I'm really trying to figure out, especially with graduating Stella Adler this year. I've been trying to figure it out myself, and I'm getting somewhat closer - but a concrete description is the key.
Thanks so much, I really appreciate your help!
L
* * *
Dear L,
Right. The truth is, there is no formula for this and no one can help you with it but yourself. And, it is always evolving. Growing. Your type is in constant flux because we are always, growing, changing, becoming older, wiser, more cynical, less cynical, fatter, smarter, etc. Frank Langella says "it is incredibly important to constantly re-envision yourself as an actor, to constantly keep up with your own changes. A 60 year old matinee idol is a not only a joke but is unbelievable and embarrassing. Losing your hair? Gaining weight? Getting older? Change yourself. Consciously. "He's right. Not only is it exciting to constantly re-invent yourself, but think of all of the things a young actor gets to look forward to: not just fantastic ingenues but the mature characters of Cleopatra, Blanche DuBois, Fagin, Mama Rose, and King Lear. Wonderful!
Think about it with yourself. Perhaps write it down. Do a few jottings in a journal, or whatever allows you to see your thoughts most effectively. I believe first and foremost it is important to ask yourself what YOU think you do well. Does classical material roll off your tongue? Do you find it easy to access a feeling of a certain period? Is there a side to you that is easily aristocratic? Is there a side to you that is easily bohemian? Nerdy? Stoic? Can you really get inside the body of a drug dealer or a prostitute-- (I have a friend who, incidentally, has never played anything in her professional life other than a prostitute)? Get in touch and get REAL with yourself. There is a business side to this industry and an artistic side, and both have their place, business is
Examples from my life:
I find it extraordinarily easy to play arty boho characters.
And highly intelligent characters.
And kooky weirdo characters.
And period pieces.
And sexy people.
And shy people.
And reeeeeaaaaallllly sincere people.
And psychologically damaged people.
And children.
And neurotic Americans.
I cannot, do not ask me, do not send me in for "contemporary girl about town" characters (without a LOT of work) because I will look like an IDIOT. I won't go. Don't ask me. It is someone else's job. Believe me. If I have enough time to work on something, of course I could manage it with time, but I'd be, as they say, "playing against my type." (Incidentally, something else I never thought I would do is "rough" or "blue-collar" or "tough" characters, I find that really challenging to access and it was interesting to do my most substantial television role on Law & Order: Criminal Intent in exactly such a type).
Which brings me to my next point. Your type has a lot to do with what comes very naturally to you. "stretching yourself" as an actor and achieving versatility is something you should do in your training and later on in your career when you feel you know your craft better (this is just my personal opinion). Stretching yourself is about the skinny girl playing Falstaff in the safe classrooms of Juilliard, about the 19 year old playing Dr. Dorn at Guildhall. Alternatively, it is about Cate Blanchett playing Bob Dylan because she is Cate Blanchett and she has (deservedly) achieved a status within the artistic and industrial world of acting, and the public want to see HER act in as many ways as they can. I'm generalizing, but you see where I am going with this. Even Simon Callow and Blythe Danner and Ian McKellan have their "types".
To use a few examples from my own experience, I will add this: when I was in college, I NEVER never ONCE played an ingenue. There was a girl in my year named Siobhan who was "small" and "sweet looking" and I looked like her MOTHER... and guess what? That is pretty much exactly what I played for the majority of my career in college. Mothers. And the maid. And Electra. And Helen of Troy at 40. And in one show I played 8 men and a puppet.
...Because being at Drama School (through no fault of it's own) is like being in a VERY small Rep company-- you have the people that do X and the people that do Y, and the people that do the weird anal characters and the people who can get away with giving the "old people" to.
Sometimes people are given "stretching" roles to work on in production (I found Varya in The Cherry Orchard a particular challenge in my first year when I was learning all about "less is more"-- that is a perfect example of RSAMD giving me a wole against my type to challenge me. I am would pin myself naturally as an, admittedly young, Ranyevskya or Arkadina "type")-- but more often than not, the stretching occurs in the classroom. Which I think is good; a safe place to experiment.
Life at school can feel very small, and situations like that can force you to view yourself against other people in your group, not against other people in the whole of the world. Guess what my first job was? An ingenue. As ingenue-y as it gets-- Laura Fairlie. Yes, the dark American girl played quintessential blond English girl and the rest is history. My next job? A Jewish ingenue. The one after that? A New-English ingenue. ... do you see where I am going with this? For ages, I pitched myself as "older," when the world saw me as I really was -- YOUNG. What is great is that by the time those slightly older roles come around I will be more than ready. These three incredible characters also have another thing in common... which brings me to my next little point...
I AM FUNNY. You are reading this blog, you know that. I am funny people. Anyone want to write a letter or two to a casting director out there? I am funny and I even won the RSAMD "Best Comedic Performer" award when I graduated. I AM FUNNY AND I HAVE BEEN CRYING FOR MY ENTIRE CAREER. Watch this space. A comedy better be next or I might actually dissolve in my "deep well of sorrow" (as a certain accent coach once put it).
But what I mean by all this kerfuffle is this: sure, there is a lot that I can do, and I fit a few different "types," but Young and Sad are what I'm working right now. In many ways, I'm making it a specialty and selling it because that is what it is about at the end of the day. And I'm not complaining. Well I am a little because I spend a lot of money on mascara. But in the long run, I'm fine with it. Does that make any sense? "Embrace it," is the message.
So, back to you: when you read a piece and can actually feel the words in your mouth, when you watch something and think "I can do that with my eyes closed" then you are getting closer. This has nothing to do with what an actor looks like, it has to do with what they ARE like. I wish you the best of luck, and I hope this is helpful. I know it is vague, but it is an art, not a science. Self-awareness is an actor's most potent and powerful tool.
All the best!
Al x
PS) If you are a person who is capable of discussing yourself with others and not becoming emotionally involved then by all means ask people what they think, but be prepared for some shock. Asking people what they think is like seeing yourself as unflattering in a photograph everyone else sees as perfectly normal, or listening to your voice on a tape. It can be a shock, so be prepared for that. You've been warned.
08 September, 2011
07 September, 2011
Things I love about Michigan
Basics:
Spring
Summer
Fall
Winter!
Most people have a built-in Michigan map. (have you taught James Earl Jones the "Glove Love" handshake...? Um... because I have. He loved it. HE GLOVE LOVED IT...)
Michigan is the cradle of the Industrial Revolution!
The 'Motown Sound' and the 'Motown Era' are major landmarks in musical history.
Oddities:
Michigan celebrates Fat Tuesday with jelly doughnuts (aka Paczki)
I need everyone to just breathe: Big Beaver Road. Believe it.
Toll free expressways
The "Michigan U" turn--this is a right turn onto a boulevard followed by an immediate u-turn at the next available crossover. (This keeps traffic from backing up at intersections with boulevards.)
"Euchre." What the hell is that you ask? Well that is a card game which is popular in Michigan and seemingly, no where else. (Oh alright, perhaps parts of Ohio. Fine.)
U-pick blueberries
U-pick peaches
U-pick apples
Mushroom hunting!
Roadside stands for fruits and veggies.
and, of course,
Cherries (Traverse City is The Cherry Capitol of The World doncha know!)
Restaurants:
The Whistle Stop
Greek Islands
Olga's
Max and Erma's
Michigan Products:
Better Made Potato Chips
Michigan maple syrup
Vernor's
Kilwin’s Ice Cream and Fudge: Look. They make their own waffle cones (need I say more?) which are definitely the best I’ve had. Kilwin's waffle cone with Mackinaw Island Fudge ice cream? ...You can then die.
Faygo
Sander's Hot Fudge.... ohmygoodnessgoogleitrightnow
Institutes:
The Detroit Zoo (especially the breath-taking butterfly exhibit)
Cranbrook's Greek Theatre, Planetarium, and institute for the arts. Heaven.
of course - Interlochen Center for the Arts
The Henry Ford Museum
and Greenfield Village
The Detroit Institute of Arts - voted the most "visitor friendly" Museum in. the. country. Wow! Go.
The Franklin Cider Mill
Special Places:
Two words: Mackinac Island (If you seek it, you can still find the original quaint and old-world charm of beautiful Mackinac Island - especially if you stay overnight.)
and Mackinac Island fudge.
Taquamenon Falls (a.k.a. "Root Beer Falls).
Frankenmuth!
The Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes
Nature:
Breathtaking nature and beauty throughout the state.
Lakes. So many lakes (and the whole lake culture *thing.* )...
Lots of camping and places for outdoor activities.
Unbelieveable clouds, almost every day.
Michigan has more lighthouses along its shorelines than any other state!
and
Sunsets you will never forget...
And I think this says it best. So say Yes to Michigan!
04 September, 2011
Letting it go...
Did you know that Sophie is a derivative of Sophia - derived from σοφία, the Greek word (and philosophical concept) for "Wisdom?" Well. There are no coincidences. Oh Soph, how your wisdom took me, took all of us, in fact, by surprise...
Sophie DePalma has been in my life since November of 2009. Believe it. I just checked through my emails. I first heard and learned "Ah, Non Credea" on a trip back from London when I was still under the impression that I lived there and would be "right back."
Remember that?
And remember when I was late for the audition because I accidentally locked myself in the utility closet? And remember singing "What's The Use of Wonderin'?" followed by the aria, all for Terrence and Stephen and the rest of the Kennedy Center team, and then, in a rush of nerves and nerdiness admitting that you learned the thing from YouTube?
And do you recall walking out of the audition and wanting it so badly but knowing that you had just locked yourself IN A CLOSET and that things were looking a little grim?
And how you met with Kevin Emrick (portentously outside of Manhattan Theatre Club) when you found out that you had, in fact, as if by magic, somehow gotten the job and you celebrated with pickles and matzoh ball soup because suddenly the next few months of your life made some sense?
That was before Washington.
Before the Terrence McNally Triptych.
Before I had really come to grips with "what had happened in London."
Before the first time I fell on my knees with Tyne, Jeremy, and Stephen, rehearsing the aria ...
Before singing at Terrence and Tom's wedding.
Before staying in Tyne's apartment.
Before committing to making New York City my home.
Before Broadway.
Before I, or perhaps anyone else, even knew that Sophie was going to mean, to be, far more than simply fun.
The day we meet Sophie? She does it.
It happens.
That miracle.
Callas demands "juice, passion," Self from Sophie. Callas' techniques may be clumsy, violent, harsh, oddly caring and sensitive, definitely unpredictable, and probably accidental, but it doesn't matter. What they find together touches upon the wisdom derived from that ancient longing. Sophie gets it. And both are transformed. Or shall I say, all are transformed? Yes. I think that is accurate, for we all take that journey with them. I know that I shall never be the same myself.
Perhaps that is why I love Sophie DePalma so much-- hers is a tiny story, but one as old as the world. A story of hope.
Life is ephemeral. So is the theatre. We cannot hold it in our hands. We all love that which vanishes. The play must end. The company shall disband, life will march on.
So here's to you, Sophie, and all others like you.
It has been my honor to tell your story.
Remember the links.
Remember a pencil,
and above all, remember,
Sophie DePalma has been in my life since November of 2009. Believe it. I just checked through my emails. I first heard and learned "Ah, Non Credea" on a trip back from London when I was still under the impression that I lived there and would be "right back."
Remember that?
And remember when I was late for the audition because I accidentally locked myself in the utility closet? And remember singing "What's The Use of Wonderin'?" followed by the aria, all for Terrence and Stephen and the rest of the Kennedy Center team, and then, in a rush of nerves and nerdiness admitting that you learned the thing from YouTube?
And do you recall walking out of the audition and wanting it so badly but knowing that you had just locked yourself IN A CLOSET and that things were looking a little grim?
And how you met with Kevin Emrick (portentously outside of Manhattan Theatre Club) when you found out that you had, in fact, as if by magic, somehow gotten the job and you celebrated with pickles and matzoh ball soup because suddenly the next few months of your life made some sense?
That was before Washington.
Before the Terrence McNally Triptych.
Before I had really come to grips with "what had happened in London."
Before the first time I fell on my knees with Tyne, Jeremy, and Stephen, rehearsing the aria ...
Before singing at Terrence and Tom's wedding.
Before staying in Tyne's apartment.
Before committing to making New York City my home.
Before Broadway.
Before I, or perhaps anyone else, even knew that Sophie was going to mean, to be, far more than simply fun.
The day we meet Sophie, she has a great deal to prove--to the Juilliard faculty. To her classmates. To that ex-boyfriend we know nothing (and everything) about. To the girl he walked away with.
But today, all of that is secondary. Today Sophie has everything to prove to herself.
And when I first met Sophie, so did I.
I believe that every one of us, no matter what we do, or how well we seemingly do it; no matter our status, security, the number or depth of relationships-- every single one of us fears that we are Not Enough.
And so, in a series of attempts to be "enough" we add to ourselves-- we wear the wrong thing, talk too much, give too much, are too much, because we don't realize that the only way to be? Is to simply Be.
And there Sophie is-- emotionally poverty-stricken and in the wrong outfit. She is overly solicitous, eager and cute, and full of inappropriate one-liners, all in attempt to beg for a scrap of love. . . Sound familiar?
That said, I also believe this: we all possesses a kind of greatness inside of us. Something-- no matter how miniscule it may seem with our own judgmental gaze upon ourselves, it is there. It may be locked away-- tied up with chains inside a cage of self-doubt, imprisoned in anxieties and crushed by fears. But it is there: waiting, surging with a kind of ancient longing. It is holding on for the day you find the courage to burst through.
The truth is, so few of us ever do. That is okay. That is allowed. But when it happens, it is a trans-formative, deeply miraculous thing.
And so, in a series of attempts to be "enough" we add to ourselves-- we wear the wrong thing, talk too much, give too much, are too much, because we don't realize that the only way to be? Is to simply Be.
And there Sophie is-- emotionally poverty-stricken and in the wrong outfit. She is overly solicitous, eager and cute, and full of inappropriate one-liners, all in attempt to beg for a scrap of love. . . Sound familiar?
That said, I also believe this: we all possesses a kind of greatness inside of us. Something-- no matter how miniscule it may seem with our own judgmental gaze upon ourselves, it is there. It may be locked away-- tied up with chains inside a cage of self-doubt, imprisoned in anxieties and crushed by fears. But it is there: waiting, surging with a kind of ancient longing. It is holding on for the day you find the courage to burst through.
The truth is, so few of us ever do. That is okay. That is allowed. But when it happens, it is a trans-formative, deeply miraculous thing.
The day we meet Sophie? She does it.
It happens.
That miracle.
Callas demands "juice, passion," Self from Sophie. Callas' techniques may be clumsy, violent, harsh, oddly caring and sensitive, definitely unpredictable, and probably accidental, but it doesn't matter. What they find together touches upon the wisdom derived from that ancient longing. Sophie gets it. And both are transformed. Or shall I say, all are transformed? Yes. I think that is accurate, for we all take that journey with them. I know that I shall never be the same myself.
Perhaps that is why I love Sophie DePalma so much-- hers is a tiny story, but one as old as the world. A story of hope.
"They should teach us a lot of things they don't."
Life is ephemeral. So is the theatre. We cannot hold it in our hands. We all love that which vanishes. The play must end. The company shall disband, life will march on.
So here's to you, Sophie, and all others like you.
It has been my honor to tell your story.
Remember the links.
Remember a pencil,
and above all, remember,
"It's all there, Sophie. These composers knew the human heart. All we have to do is listen..."
*
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.
- Mary Oliver
31 August, 2011
On doing what you love for a living...
1. Ask Yourself What You Want
Be specific. Figuring out exactly what you want will help you focus on where you need to go. Write it down. What are your deepest dreams? Take them seriously and they will lead to what you really want.
Create intent in your life to manifest your dreams in the physical world. Defining an Unlimited Life Plan (one that expresses all your wildest dreams) is one of the most valuable things you can do. Start with a personal philosophy and mission statement. Make a list of two columns. Label the first "OBJECTIVES" and the second "ACTIONS." Example:
OBJECTIVES: create an identity in my industry
ACTIONS: write an article for a magazine
When you truly commit to your goal, the money will appear.
2. Believe that you CAN
If you follow one piece of advice on your path let it be this: replace "What if I'm not cut out for this?" with "YES. I. CAN." Most successful people have this quality ingrained in them, but anyone can learn. Get "can't" out of your vocabulary. (It may sound cheesy but get it out—fo' reals.) Stay away from people who say "You can't make a living doing that...." (there will be MANY. And they may be people you really love. They may not ever truly understand. It's okay.) Respond with "ah ah ah! I do not have 'can't' in my vocabulary therefore I am going to repeat this mantra instead. "There are people out there who need my services!"
Now say it again.
Possibly again.
This time with feeling.
3. Research
Find people who are already making a living doing what you want to do. read about them, make them into a model for your career and your life. Connect with those people—most successful people are very happy to talk to those starting out on their same path (what do you think I am doing here on this blog, eh?). Also, read any book you can about triumph over adversity; it will help you through those days when you question your choices. Create a support network of people in your field. Try to meet with them regularly; it will help you feel "normal."
4. Pretend You Already ARE Who You Want to Be
And you will become it! No one starts off in any field feeling über confident and powerful. It takes time to build and grow. Sometimes it feels like you're not moving at all. That's okay. There will be other times when you feel like you're faking it. ("What if someone figures me out? Sees through me?") That's okay. There will be days when you are giving more than you think you have to give and feel that no one "sees" you or appreciates it. That's okay too. In fact, it is all okay.
5. Ignore...
Those who tell you it can't be done.
Those who have tried and bitterly given up.
Those who think you are nuts to throw away security and convention.
Those who bully you (including yourself).
The crazy vampire voice in your head that says you aren't enough.
Most people yearn to do what they love for a living, but many believe they can't handle the risks or responsibilities. For some of those people, that might all be true. Frightened people will impose their own fears on you. (They will do it for a variety of reasons). You might need to let go of friends who don't understand what you're trying to do. Surround yourself with people who support your new choices. Let everyone know how happy your work makes you.
6. Prioritize
Make your work a priority. Your work and your life are not separate entities. You need to have energy to build a career. We have been taught that we must work full-time to maintain a certain lifestyle. Let go of this belief and consider alternatives. Subsidize your income with part-time or contract work. Scale down your living expenses. Ask for help when you need it! There is someone out there right now who can help you. Take a look at the books in the business section.
7. Feel the Fear!
I've talked to many people who have worked for years doing what they love and they still have fear! (I literally had lunch with an octogenarian Broadway legend today who is convinced he will never work again and that the whole world is about to figure out he was a joke the whole time...) I was amazed to find that success sometimes brings more fear-- the fear of living up to the expectations and reputation of previous successes. If the fear is always there, well hell: you might as well learn to manage it instead of trying to get rid of it. Use it. Allow it. Allow it to fuel, not cripple, you.
8. Reinvent Yourself
You are not defined by your current situation. You can start fresh at any given time. After failures (I prefer to call them lessons), get back on your feet and start again. Remember the Japanese proverb "fall down seven times, stand up eight." Writers will be rejected. Illustrators will send out work they hate. Freelancers will have dry periods. Designers will have quotes rejected. Actors will lose a job to someone for trivial reasons. There is always an ebb and flow to success, money, fame, and creative energy. Dust yourself off: Fall down seven times, stand up eight.
9. BEGIN NOW!
Look. The circumstances will never be perfect. You will never have "enough" money saved. Your portfolio will never be "ready." You may never have the perfect space, credits, equipment, head-shots, training. These are self-limiting beliefs created by our inner critic. Convince yourself that you will not have the time if you don't make it now.
Don't make a big production of it. Use what you've got. Ernest Hemingway wrote on napkins. Keith Haring painted subway stations. You have everything in your possession rightthissecond to start moving toward your goals. When you take a small step in the direction of your dream, the universe often takes several more for you.
10. Let Go
Don't worry about your talent or capability. It is not yours to judge, and it will grow and change over time. Do not ask, "Why am I doing this?" or "Is this right?" Freaking out about what you "should" be doing does not move you forward. ENJOY THE PROCESS. Starting can be the most overwhelming part, but it is also exciting and full of possibilities. Change can be intimidating, unfamiliar, terrifying, and downright uncomfortable. Your life is too rich, and you are too powerful to have anything less than what you truly deserve. You have a responsibility to do what you love every day, to become your most authentic, powerful Self, to share your passion with the rest of the world, and to live up to the spirit that is in you.
The universe it waiting...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
