I've Been: Winter 2017

- Participating so meaningfully in my constitutional right to protest. I've joined marches with and for women, science, the arts, alongside my friends and colleagues at the ACLU, Planned Parenthood and Actor’s Equity.

- Ringing the gong!(A tradition at my acting agency where you ring a giant gong when you "book" a job!)

- Singing with my "DooDoo" and little sissy Samantha Massell at 54 Below (living out our BEST DUET LIFE GOALS!)

- Doing a beautiful reading of a new musical
 

- Visiting my hometown! Yay Detroit, Michigan!
     - Returning to the legendary Greek Islands
     - Catching up with old dear friends
     - Driving!
     - Buying a REAL winter coat
     - Loving the Michigan cold
     - Waiting outside in the freezing February Detroit cold to see my first gathering of The Moth downtown!
     - Celebrating my Mom’s birthday!


This. CAST!

- “Wintero-verting”

-ALL ABOARD! McCarter
    - Costume HEAVEN
    - Loving the beauty and history of Princeton
    - Making some great new theatre pals
    - Daily yoga
  
    - Loving being a part of the McCarter family

-  LEARNING MEGA LESSONS
     - personal and energetic boundaries
     - About being an 'INFJ'
     - Being an *Empath*
     - Making some serious inner peace
     - Working 2016 “out”
     - Learning allllll about psychic stress

The Countess, courtesy of William Ivey Long

     - Letting go

- Cooking!

- Doing a top secret photo-shoot for a major theatre platform (news coming soon!) with super fancy people on a dream come true kind of day. (Pssst - keep your eyes peeled on the Time Warner Center for giant crazy images of yours truly)

- Making peace with solitude

- Rumbling with health again

- Resting and Healing

- Learning even more about health (which is so much ore than the mere absence of disease)

- a true and complete 5-hour Hassidic seder on Passover at the wonderful internet sensation, Rabbi Mordecai Lightstone’s in Crown Heights. It was an honor to be at his table with his wife and four sons, and the collection of people from all across the internet he has welcomed into his circle and literal home.

- Deep (and I mean DEEP) cleaning

'After Anatevka' at Symphony Space

- 'Introverting'

-  Enjoying possibly the most overwhelming night of my entire life at Symphony Space. In an evening that felt not at all unlike my freakin' Bat Mitzvah, my close friends and colleagues came together to bring After Anatevka to musical life, in a manner I have no words to express.

- Singing with Doc!

- Loving on this: Good Earth Sweet and Spicy tea. (Holy moly Batman...hot. iced. Get it!)

- LOVING ON AND BEING LOVED ON BY TATIANA SO SO SO HARD

Writing:
- Submitting my manuscript!
- Completing the editorial process on my first novel
- The book cover victory
- Proofreading coincidence
- Seeing my novel as a novel for the very first time


Reading:
- The Yiddish Policeman's Union by Michael Chabon
- You are a Badass at Making Money by Jen Sincero
- Don Quixote by Miguel Cervantes
- Theatre of the Oppressed by Augusto Boal
- The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood (read beautifully on Audible.com by Claire Danes, prepping for the Hulu series!)

Seeing:
- Hamilton
- The Humans 
- Yours Unfaithfully at The Mint
- Picnic and Come Back Little Sheba in rep, at the Transport Group
- Significant Other
- San Francisco Symphony at Carnegie Hall (with Lilly!)

Symphony Space: pure joy.

#FakeDad

I met up with Fiddler Fake Dad Danny Burstein (and for a hot second, Fiddler Fake Mom Jessica Hecht!) today, and we forgot to take a selfie, so he drew this:

and i drew this:

 

We're a really special fake family.

"My Perchik" from After Anatevka in Concert

Santino and Jessica Fontana

Song by Ben Toth and Alexandra Silber

Performed by Santino Fontana and Jessica Fontana, based on Alexandra Silber's novel "AFTER ANATEVKA"

From AFTER ANATEVKA : IN CONCERT at Symphony Space, New York City, 2017

*
Chapter 3: Hodel’s Longing

    Sat low, the daughters of the dairyman crouched beneath the cows and pulled the milk from their udders, as they had every day since the age when they were first able. It was more regimen than routine. The mechanical sound of each rhythmic tug and the subsequent tinny splash accompanied by the incessant groans from the beasts themselves was the music of home— its dull cadences almost soothing.
    But the sound was accompanied by a stillness — a feeling of unbearable emptiness that had been growing there for as long as she could recall. It was a longing as insidious as the odor from the stables: oftentimes unnoticeable, but a particular turn of the breeze, a sweltering afternoon, or in returning from inhaling the clean air of the river, and the feeling would grab a hold of her consciousness before she was permitted to continue on.
    Her eyes were intent on the milk rising in the pail, when the repetitive music of the work came crashing to a halt. She suddenly felt void of more than just her energy; it was a collapsing of life purpose, as if the oil had run out, extinguishing her flame.
    “What is it Hodelleh?” Hodel did not even notice that Chava’s concerned hand was upon her shoulder.
    “Nothing…” Hodel dismissed the feeling, brushing it away, “Nothing at all.”
    But of course it was something—and she wanted it gone. To feel once more, even for the briefest of moments, the fellowship of her community, her faith, and above all her affinity with Chava and the rest of her family. She longed to grow— inward, outward, taller still. She longed to burst through the barn doors and run toward any kind of rescue, across vast distances, through the mists of the morning, until the collapse of her body matched that of her spirit.  All of a sudden she was quite nauseous with it. Hodel shook herself, threw back her head, and smiled with reassurance at her sister before returning to the udders with a forced resolve.
    That was the summer she turned sixteen—the summer before she met Perchik.

'This is Prophetic!' from Nixon in China

'This is Prophetic!'
from Nixon in China 
Music by John Adams
Libretto by Alice Goodman

PAT
The children in the U.S.A. all say hello.
I used to be a teacher many years ago
and now I’m here to learn from you.

(Smiling and waving, Mrs. Nixon and her entourage
leave the commune and proceed to the next stop on her
tour: the Summer Palace where she is photographed
strolling through the Hall of Benevolence and
Longevity, the Hall of Happiness in Longevity,
the Hall of Dispelling the Clouds, and the Pavilion
of the Fragrance of Buddha. She pauses in the gate
of Longevity and Good Will to sing)

PAT
This is prophetic! I foresee a time will come when
luxury dissolves into the atmosphere like a perfume,
and everywhere the simple virtues root
and branch and leaf and flower.
On that bench there we’ll relax
and taste the fruit of all our actions.
Why regret life which is so much like a dream?
Let the eternal plan resume.
In the bedroom communities let us be taken by surprise.
Yes! Let the band play on and on,
let the stand-up comedian finish his act,
let Gypsy Rose kick off her high-heeled party shoes;
let interested businessmen speculate further,
let routine dull the edge of mortality.
Let days grow imperceptibly longer,
let the sun set in cloud;
let lonely drivers on the road pull over for a bite to eat,
let the farmer switch on the light over the porch,
let passer by look in at the large family
around the table, let them pass.
Let the expression on the face
of the Statue of Liberty change just a little,
let her see what lies inland:
across the plain one man is marching...
the Unknown Soldier has risen from his tomb,
let him be recognized at home.
The Prodigal. Give him his share:
the eagle nailed to the barn door.
Let him be quick.
The sirens wail as bride
and groom kiss through the veil.
Bless this union with all its might,
let it remain inviolate.

Seeing my novel for the very first time...

Yesterday, I received the advanced reading copy galleys of 'After Anatevka.'

It is the very first time I have seen my book as a BOOK. In the shape, weight, texture, and smell of a book.

There are no words to explain what this feels like. A bit like birth. It is certainly the most significant and enduring offering of my soul to ever emerge from me, and will last longer than any play, will last longer than me.

Dear hardworking dreamers, keep going.

Be right back!

Dearest Readers,

I know that I have been a liiiiiiittle MIA in 2017, and it is only because birthing a book out into the world is a lot like, well, birth! Conceiving the idea is the fun part, then there are months of morning sickness and achy joints and hormonal rages, then the pain and ouch and crazy of birth itself, and then BAM! A miracle!

I cannot wait to share After Anatevka with all of you. The amount of learning and growing and discovery and gratitude has all been overwhelming.

All of this is to say, I know I have been neglecting dear London Still, and I'll be right back!


Love,

Al

x

'My guardian angel is afraid of the dark...' by Charles Simic

My guardian angel is afraid of the dark. 

He pretends he's not, sends me ahead, tells me he'll be along in a moment. 

Pretty soon I can't see a thing.

     "This must be the darkest corner of heaven," someone whispers behind my back. It turns out her guardian angel is missing too. 

     "It's an outrage,” I tell her. "The dirty little cowards leaving us all alone," she whispers. 

And of course, for all we know, I might be a hundred years old already, 

and she just a sleepy little girl with glasses.

Ask Al: You Contain Multitudes

Dear Al,

Honestly, I am a little embarrassed to ask this question because I suspect you are asked it all the time, and possibly not with total seriousness. But I am actually asking in earnest: How do you get to Broadway?

I am a sophomore musical theatre student in a great American MT program and I’m a soprano just like you! It is my one and only dream to be a performer on Broadway someday, and I literally can’t see myself doing or loving anything else as much, but all I ever hear is how impossible it is to get “there,” how hard, how tough, how the odds are against us all. If that is true, then I don’t think I understand why training programs even exist for such an “impossible” profession! Because, well, you are “there.” You did “it.” You proved that this impossible thing, is not, in fact, utterly impossible. Somebody is doing it! So I figured I might as well ask what makes you tick, what motivates you, and how, if possible can others hope to be in a position like yours one day?

I know there is no real secret, I do. I know you have to work harder and be better than the rest. But what does that mean? What does that look and feel like?

You are such a big inspiration to me, and I just wanted to know if there were any thoughts on the topic you could share.

With gratitude,

Tara

 * * *


Dear dear Tara,


You’re not only a smart cookie, you are bold! This is a great question, and I sincerely thank you for asking this with such a genuine spirit. You are right, one does have to work harder and always strive to be the best they can possibly be in order to work at the top of any profession. But, assuming that that is obvious, let’s start by breaking up the mysteries of “making it” into a few points—all of which are not about specific “How To-s,” but about outlook.
 

1. No more “Never”
    Ah platitudes!  
    I love your logic because YES: Somebody is doing it. They have to cast someone, so “Why me?” Well, why not you? I like to think of Broadway as the “Special Forces” of the Theatre, and thus, by that logic, yes, it is an extremely rare, special, and thus, difficult achievement to make the cut. The reality is: you might not. Most people don’t. But? Some people do. And you could be among them. You have to be talented, bold, very resilient, and more than a little lucky.

    But you are correct: someone is out there doing it. People are also winning medals at the Olympics, going to outer space and this year the Chicago Cubs won the World Series. So take away those “Never” platitudes and replace them with language (and thus, thoughts/beliefs!) that stay open to possibility, even if the possibility is indeed slim.

Instead of
    “I’m never gonna make it,”
    “I’m never the lucky one,”
or
    “I’ll never sing like that”

Try phrases like
    “They have to choose someone!”
    “It might as well be me!”
Or,
    “Every day I am improving my skills and capacity!”


2. Athletes of the heart
    You are correct, “How do I get to Broadway” is a question I get asked all the time. It is matched in frequency to “How do I know when I’ve ‘made it.” And “What is ‘Success?’” Whoa Nellie. These questions all garner a similar response.

    'Broadway' is just like any other dreamy life goal. If I were an Olympian, people would assume that the view from the summit took years of early mornings, sacrifices, fierce commitment and bone crushing work, but somehow, society doesn’t always view artists in the same way. Believe me, the rigor required is identical, it just takes different forms. As Antonin Artaud said, artists are “athletes of the heart.” Artists of all kinds, but particularly interpretive artists have to do emotional gymnastics that turns their heart, minds and souls inside out to serve a story. But performing artists are also? Actual athletes. Just ask any performer doing 8 shows a week. Of anything.You ask what rigor "looks and feels like." That is, of course, different for every individual, but here are some ideas that I adhere to. These thoughts do not apply to and for everyone, but they are a guideline for me. (Also, if you are not an actor and you are reading this blog anyway, I welcome you to find the corresponding parallels in your own profession and life!)

    - Rigorous self-exploration (you are the only personal human experience you will ever have)
    - Incredible discipline (of diet, exercise, rest, study, class, physical therapy, skill improvement, health maintenance, vocal rest)
    - Empathy (you have to constantly expand your heart to be able to understand and portray without judgement, people very different from you)
    - Curiosity (about humanity, relationships, history, culture, and people who are different from you)
    - Voracious, rigorous study (read plays, books, see theatre, take classes)
    - Practice Practice Practice (you have to DO it actually warm up, sing, stretch yourself, sight-read, Read out loud, or freaking finger paint I don’t care— but you have to DO your art— every single day)
    - Exercise (your body is your instrument)
    - Feed yourself real food and actually sleep (depravity is overrated, and seriously uncool/not to be bragged about)
    - Constant skill improvement and expansion

Finally,


3. “Broadway” is special, but it also just geography
"Broadway" only made up of a few criteria:
    - The size of the house
    - The geography of the address.
     There are 41 qualifying Broadway theatres, all of which have to have over 500 seats, and located in the Theater District and Lincoln Center circling along the street “Broadway,” in Midtown Manhattan, New York City. It is also, not unlike church or marriage or the right to vote, much much more than just that the basic criteria, but in essence…that’s it...

     Yes, Broadway (along with London's West End) is widely considered to represent the highest level of commercial theatre in the English-speaking world. But, while that is amazing, and a wonderful goal to aspire to, there are many many places in America, and across the planet to create, perform, participate in, and enjoy, the theatre.

    Off Broadway services more New York city tourists in a calendar year than the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island combined!

     And that is just New York! What of London’s West End, National and International Tours, summer stock, semi-professional theatres, and last but certainly not least, incredible, award-winning regional theatres across the country (like the Guthrie, McCarter, Goodman Theaters, the Mark Taper Forum, and of course, The Kennedy Center)? See where I am going with this? Essentially: There are lots of places to work that are not Broadway.

     These incredible venues are not only the birthplaces of many original works, and Broadway shows before they reach New York, but the majority of regional theatres like to revisit the past and cater to the audiences (just like you!) that love classic plays and musicals as much as they enjoy the new stuff, not to mention: they are the sites of many of my (and hundreds of thousands of other actors’) very favorite artistic experiences.

     In 2016 there were also over 500 amateur productions of Fiddler in America alone, along with 20 professional American productions, and countless international professional productions (did you know Fiddler has been professionally produced in Japan over 1300 times in the last 50 years?!)


Which brings me to the ultimate point:


4. Work is the Goal; and Work is Work
     I am no less playing Tzeitel than Haley Bond was at The Muny last summer, or Teagan Wouters continues to do in the Australian National Tour; or any number of Tzeitel’s across the country and world in regional, amateur and high school theatres. I get paid—and yes, a Broadway production usually gets recorded into an album, which is eligible for a Grammy; but the words themselves, the songs, and the life Tzeitel Kamzoil lives? Every actor with “Tzeitel” next to their name in the program says the same words—at varying levels of professionalism, artistic depth, exposure, technique, experience and capacity, yes—but we all still do it.

     And so can you, dearest Tara! If you possess talent and grit (and I’m just going to assume you do!) you can play Laurie and Carrie and Magnolia and Maria and allllll the yummy sopranos you want—they just might not be on Broadway. But honestly…who cares? You might thrill, entertain and move the good people of St. Louis or Sarasota or Minneapolis and that’s wonderful! Some of the greatest artistic experiences of my life have been in Edinburgh, Washington, DC, Sheffield, Manchester, Philadelphia, San Francisco and Los Angeles. These lovely roles are out there in the world to be played, and you might just play them. 

     For work is work. That is the nature of an functional actor’s life/a performing career. Working. Not working in a highly public, salary-and-fame-and-award driven way. Fame and fortune are hollow goals, and their pursuit (I promise, I've witnessed it) will make you miserable. Not every screen actor is a movie star, nor every musical theatre performer a Broadway legend. Some are both (ohai there Bette Midler, Bernadette Peters, Carol Burnette, and Mandy Patinkin)!
    But most of us actors are just going from job to job, and while often those jobs are quite rewarding, though sometimes they are not. That's okay. We go about this work regardless of the fancy address; we pay our bills, collect our insurance weeks, and when we are lucky, make new friends and fill our souls. But above all, working is truly about providing for ourselves as artists. That alone is a difficult goal to achieve (only 1% of all the actors in the Actors Equity Association, work) thus, being a working artist is truly the ultimate artistic dream. If notoriety and shiny awards come your way, how wonderful. If not? That’s okay too. Someone has to, nay, gets to play Hedda Gabler in Philadelphia; someone gets to play Valmont and Mama Rose and Coriolanus in Whereverville. Be honest: wouldn’t it be magical if that could be you?


5. “I contain multitudes”
    Walt Whitman said:

    “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.”

    Whoa boy, Walt. Steady there. You nailed this on the head. Human beings are vast creatures, containing multitudinous textures, capacities, and qualities all of which make up who we are, and the stories of out lives.

     Broadway is a wonderful life goal, and I feel beyond honored to have “made it” to both the West end and Broadway myself—I count my blessings every single day.

    However, “Broadway” is, in actuality, just a goal like any other. It is like making partner, losing the weight, winning the medal, etc. There is no train station of “Success” one pulls into where when they depart, everything is perfect and grand. There is no magical wand that waves and voila you are all set. No no no. You achieve the goal, pop the champagne and celebrate! But then? Life proceeds.

    Ask any Olympian what life is like 3 weeks after they win a gold medal. I guarantee you they are watching movies and ordering takeout. My version of that is this: 40 minutes after my Carnegie Hall debut was I in a fancy champagne bar raising a glass of Veuve Cliquot in Manhattan? Nope. I was in Brooklyn Diner getting a strawberry milkshake with my mom, manager and two of my best friends. I was still in my ballgown. Then? I ran home, fell dead asleep, and woke up early to teach my 9am acting class for the next 6 hours the next day down at Pace. Why? Because I contain multitudes!  (Incidentally, not one of my students gave a damn that I’d made my Carnegie Hall debut the night before. They were too busy feeling their feelings and being chickens…). I reveled in the dichotomy of my activities—because life is ridiculous! And hilarious! And beautiful! All of the these activities heightened the celebration of the other, and of the richness of life itself.

    The point is: once you climb the mountain/achieve your dreamy amazing goals, yes, you absolutely get to enjoy the view from the summit! But then you have to realistically go about life with humility. That means maintaining and hopefully often expanding your standards; it means setting new goals, getting new dreams, falling on your face again and again (just in higher heels…) and on you go, living your life. You still have to vacuum, do the dishes, get sick, feel grumpy, bloat after eating salty stuff, get caught in the rain, and have bad hair days. #SorryNotSorry: big dreamers and high achievers are people too.

    Part of “making it” is not only accepting, but celebrating that your best life achievements and your greatest successes will come in may shapes and sizes. When I think of my Carnegie Hall debut, I do think of the orchestra, the gown, the sight of the hall, and that high C that soared over the crowd. But I also think of the strawberry milkshakes with my closest people, and the class I taught the next day at 9am. When I think of that achievement, it contains the multitudes of all of those details— not just the shiniest one. I was proud to be at school the next morning after the evening I’d experienced. I was proud to be celebrating the greatest artistic achievement of my life thus far with my dearest friends in a place that felt true to myself. Because I contain multitudes.

Work. Sing. Soar. Be yourself.
Whatever and wherever that lift-off point may be.
For you, too, contain multitudes.

The Sentence by Anna Akhmatova

And the stone word fell
On my still-living breast.
Never mind, I was ready.
I will manage somehow.

Today I have so much to do:
I must kill memory once and for all,
I must turn my soul to stone,
I must learn to live again—

Unless…Summer’s ardent rustling
Is like a festival outside my window.
For a long time I’ve foreseen this
Brilliant day, deserted house.

"I never met a man who wasn't in love with her..."

     “Olya…” she wiped her nose, “poor little thing, like a bird with a broken wing she was.”

Madame Solovyov moved to leave, lifting her purse and adjusting her jacket as she made her way to the aisle.

      “You know,” she said, addressing Dmitri her back still toward him, her gaze fixed upon and lit by the setting of the sun, “I never met a man who wasn’t in love with her. Not one.” She sniffed lightly. “Not until I met you.”

Her eyes closed in contemplation. Dmitri remained motionless but felt a surge of heat beneath his overcoat.

     “To think,” she mused, her eyes cold and dead, “the one man she truly gave her heart to treated it like a rag.” She readjusted the lace at the collar of her bodice, “What men would’ve done for a scrap of her love…” then, giving him a sobering stare, “What you did with a diamond.”
      “But I have done nothing.”
      “Indeed,” she said.

She eyed him over her shoulder, before glancing once more upon the grave then disappearing into the mist of the morning.

I've Been: Nov-Dec 2016

- Taking Tatiana to WORK! (Shhhh don't tell....)

- Trying to get involved in Snapchat (@alsilbs) and finding my ouvre in the "Sad Series" (posted as Sad Reindeer and Tzad Tzeitel on Instagram.)

- Making history with my fellow Americans

- Voting for our first female president of the United States of America! (#ImWithHer)

- Gathering myself, my personal and communal missions, and my hope, post-election.This is going to be hard, but I feel galvanized and motivated to care about my world in new ways. As Pericles stated, "Just because you do not take an interest in politics doesn't mean politics won't take an interest in you."

- Truly starting to feel like myself again, health wise...

- Enjoying the fruits of our labor (union) when our union won a #FairWageOnStage!

- Basking in the sheer, unadulterated badassery of my mom, MamaSilbs

Fiddler LONDON cast!

- Singing at Joe's Pub with (the Noel Coward to my Gerturde Lawrence) Lance Horne

- Enjoying a Fiddler-London reunion at Joe's Pub!


- Bidding farewell to our original Mama extraordinaire, Jessica Hecht

- Welcoming the one and only (4-time Tony nominee, original Broadway Cosette,Betty, Svetlana and Mrs. Bechdel, VOICE OF POCHA-FREAKIN-HONTAS, and good friend) Judy Kuhn as our new Golde.

Don't be jealous.

- Reading reading reading:
     - The Art of Seduction by Robert Greene
     - The Magical Chorus by Solomon Volkov
     - The Art of Memoir by Mary Karr
     - Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie
     - The Art of Possibility by Rosamund Stone Zander , Benjamin Zander 
(I highly recommend listening to the authors read this on Audible.comthere are dozens of musical examples that are present in the audio version that enhance the experience immensely!)

 - OMFG OMFG: Enjoying my 'Murder, She Wrote' makeup bag (purchased from Etsy)

- Having the honor of witnessing my soulmate friend Amy Jo Jackson get married in NYC. She was an authentic and glittering bride. 


- And also sharing some wonderful memories with dear friend Nikka Lanzarone (which included going over her maid-of-honor speech in the creepy AF train car of The McKittrick Hotel...)

- Decorating my "Christmakuh tree" with a dozen beautiful owl ornaments!

- Beholding the antics of MamaSilbs' Chloe the Cat


- Reveling in the final chapter of #TheCutestPregnantWomanOnBroadway!

- Closing Fiddler on the Roof on Broadway (GUYS: ...can you believe I was in Fiddler on the Roof ...on Broadway?)
. Saying goodbye to a very real and very dear new family that shall forever remain a part of the fabric of my psyche.



- The glow of Christmas

- The miracle of Hanukkah

- The joys of a New Year

- Mega New York City Snow!

- Starting a new chapter, with new values and lesson, in a new year of 2017

The Fiddler Plays…

The fiddler plays and grows ever thinner, thin and thinner,
already thinner than the fiddle-bow, thinner than a string.
In place of its master, by itself the fiddle plays thinner, ever thinner,
and its master burns for his faith on a white pyre.

The fiddle plays alone now ever thinner, thin and thinner,
the fiddler cannot pass it a sip of water; On their own
the sounds play and they play thinner, thinner.
until sounds glow on the pyre, sounds glow.

Sounds glow on the pyre, glow thin and thinner,
now the darkness plays without fiddle and without bow.
It plays without sounds and its playing: thinner, thinner, thinner,
until we sparkle all through its black eyes.

Oh, darkness, for whom do you play ever thinner, thin and thinner,
for us, the small tears? Are your favors destined for us?
Music from tears. Tiny tears. Thinner, thinner, thinner,
together with the white pyre and the dark earth.