13 December, 2024

The Talkback: An Epilogue

 Epilogue: *

 * "It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue..."
— William Shakespeare

1. This clearly touched a nerve.

I'm vaguely in awe of the enormous response to my post regarding the talk back. The shared outrage and anger surprised and moved me. I'm not certain why— but perhaps it's because in my "Other" roles I so often feel left hanging so I didn't expect such support. 
 
But genuinely? 
None more so than as a woman.
We don't allow women to speak. 
And when we do, we don't listen very well, or at all.


2. Compassion first

 I want to acknowledge that these older men (one declared himself to be Jewish — the other spoke with the authority of someone who identified as Jewish) seemed to be in a lot of pain.
And you know what?
I get it.
I respect their pain.
In some ways I share it.

I share the pain of a human being with a few "Other" status' (like billions of humans) who thought they had not merely the hope but the firm belief that the arm of history was moving in the direction of a more compassionate, loving world. When they look around, I imagine these men see shadows of things they assumed were long gone, and feel despair.

And something I have that they do not? Is more time. They have less time on earth to see the world course correct. And it brings them grief and outrage and fear and hopelessness that everything they've devoted their lives to is evaporating.

I have more time to change the world than they do.
I understand.
If they had given me a chance, I would have validated their pain.

 
3. Demand no "pound of flesh"
 
Their valid pain? Is no excuse for further pain.
 
And the almost breathtaking irony is that this is the precise larger theme of The Merchant of Venice.
 
Oppression can warp us, if we allow it. And hurt people hurt people.

We must rise above our personal and collective agonies and demand no “pound of flesh”— no matter how
"justified." We must heal ourselves and our communities so that we cause no further harm — micro and macro.
 
May the bringing of peace begin within the quietness of our own souls.
 

 
 

12 December, 2024

The Talkback: Part 2

This piece is a more detailed account of a specific negative talk-back that occurred, and is continuation from more universal theatre talk back experiences. For those thoughts, Part 1: is HERE.


Helpful background
 
Now, as for what happened tonight after The Merchant of Venice. The producers advertised this particular evening as "Pride Night—" and welcomed the audience to stay to discuss the themes of "Othering" in society, the play itself and in our production. 
 
For those who may not be familiar with the piece, a quick background: 
The Merchant of Venice is a play written around 1594 by William Shakespeare and listed as a "comedy." The play centers around three main protagonists who are all "Others" in the hetero-normative, Christian, male society of Venice: Antonio is a queer man, Portia is a woman, and Shylock is a Jew. The play has long been considered extremely controversial for the portrayal and ultimate fate of it's "comic villain" Shylock-- who goes after the Christian Antonio (whom he despises for his blatant bigotry of Jews) in court when he fails to meet their iron-clad money-lending agreement promising that should Antonio fail to meet the terms, Shylock may exact "a pound of flesh" from Antonio, ostensibly killing him (for he has Antonio's heart in mind). 
Yet, despite Shylock's legal "correctness," Portia—dressed as a man and serving as the loophole-finding lawyer for the case—Antonio is spared, and ultimately stripped of his property and life, only to be saved in the end if he agrees to give up all his worldly goods and, of course, be converted to Christianity. 
 
My take: Honestly? It is a play about some rather horrible people doing some truly horrible things. And along the way there are some great laughs, fun subplots, and some of Shakespeare's most iconic and beautiful poetry and prose.  
 
In short: it's complicated.

Our Production

Now MoV has much more than Jewish themes— it also has the othering of women and LGBTQ+ people. Not to mention the total lambasting of countless nationalities and cultures in the smaller parts of the original text. 

Our production—for better or for worse, not my call—eliminated the queer themes utterly, which I felt was a missed opportunity. It also largely diminished my role as Portia and did little to illuminate her lack of agency, her blinding intelligence, her loneliness and really any redeemable part of her humanity. (I hear you asking and yes, sure: it wasn't my favorite take on this play, and not my favorite acting experience, but I'm not in charge. That's the deal we sign as actors! Sometimes an actor has to trust, commit fully to a director's vision as an instrument of and extension of their artistic expression and suppress one's own preconceived notions and ideas. That's the gig. And globally: I applaud anyone for taking a bold "swing" and really trying something). 
 
With these two arms of the triumvirate diminished, our production did, however, focus almost exclusively on Shylock: on ancient and contemporary Antisemitic tropes, on the way we treated Jews then, and continue to today.


Tonight

After the show, we sit down, a moderator is present and highly qualified to speak on the subject of the evening, but does not have journalistic credits. They do not set any ground rules, they do not create a "container" for how this is going to go. I am immediately concerned because the subject matter is so intense, and it is obvious that audience members are experiencing high emotions.
 
An older man took up an enormous amount of airtime speaking for over 5 minutes about his background as a Eastern European Jewish immigrant, then proceeded to express his "disappointment and outrage" at our production. He used inflammatory language. He was clearly angry and directing a great deal of his anger in my direction.
 
I interrupted him (as politely as possible) in minute 5, noting that no one else—not the moderator nor the producer—was putting an end to a speech that was clearly going off course. I stated calmly that I "didn't hear a question." He replied, impassioned: 
 
"How can you do this?"  

It went downhill quickly from there. 
 
I won't get in to the minutia of his words, I will ask you to trust that this was not a conversation, and his comments and his tone were inappropriate.  His feelings are of course, valid, but there is an appropriate  audience, time, place and manner in which to express them.  And my feelings were valid: it was perfectly reasonable to become defensive when asked—as an actor—to personally "defend" a production I did not direct or produce.
 
It needed to be shut down long before it was dealt with. And there was no need for it to ever arrive at such a confrontational place to begin with, had infrastructure been in place.
 
I will own my part: I became defensive, in my fear and anger I "puffed:" I rattled off facts, figures and basically barfed the encyclopedia at on onto these men— to prove something. My intelligence, my worthiness of respect; to show that they had underestimated and belittled me? I don't know exactly. I'm still figuring it out in the aftermath. I was also defending myself because I felt unsafe! No one was stepping in and meaningfully coming to our aid! I was terrified that there was no infrastructure in place from our moderator or producers to help the exposed actors navigate this moment. As the conflict escalated, both ushers and audience members left. 

But where the conversation turned ugly for me was when this man, and another older man sitting beside him (also outraged) vociferously attempted to "teach" me—not the men—about Jewish history. They spoke directly to me, looked me in the eyes and used demeaning language to do so. I believe used tone and language that insinuated that I was too young, too goyishe, and too female to possibly understand the nuances of 5000 years of Jew-hatred.

So, allow me to be clear, gentlemen:

1. I am Jewish.
I understand that I may not "look Jewish" you.
Your assumption of my exclusion says more about you than it does about me.

2. Yes, I am a woman. 
I understand that 10 minutes ago, I was dressed in nothing more than a pink bikini (and looking ravishing-by the way) and that possibly leads you to believe that I am an intellectual lightweight whose beauty is her only asset. But my attractive, apparently "youthful," hyper feminine woman-ness makes me NO less capable of academic rigor, dramaturgy, context, nuance, curiosity, or for a deep and secure grasp upon my Peoples' history, Theatrical history and of history itself.
 
Just because I am a beautiful woman does not mean I am a stupid one.

Do not assume that you "must" "TEACH ME" anything. (Yes, sir, I am speaking to you who felt it necessary to teach me about The Rothschilds in front of an audience.)

3. Censorship is a society-killer. 
Also? Yes, this play is officially a "comedy" and yes, it is problematic. But to quote Professor James Shapiro author of "Shakespeare and The Jews"
“I have tried to show that much of the play's vitality can be attributed to the ways in which it scrapes against a bedrock of beliefs about the racial, national, sexual, and religious difference of others. I can think of no other literary work that does so as unrelentingly and as honestly. To avert our gaze from what the play reveals about the relationship between cultural myths and peoples' identities will not make irrational and exclusionary attitudes disappear. Indeed, these darker impulses remain so elusive, so hard to identify in the normal course of things, that only in instances like productions of this play do we get to glimpse these cultural fault lines. This is why censoring the play is always more dangerous than staging it.”

In essence: we must be willing to see.
Censorship in art achieves nothing.
 
4. Producers and Moderators, please protect your actors and creatives
This is a professional engagement. We might love our work, but a labor of love is still labor. And our time, safety and dignity should be respected by implementing safeguards before and during audience engagements. It is respectful. To all.

5. Never assume: onstage and off. 
Finally, this talk-back revealed through it's "failure" precisely the reason we were gathered:
The assumptions we make about Others based on a myriad of preconceived beliefs, prejudices and assumptions. I—like millions—exist at the cross-section of many identities. None of them should be questioned, tested, proven, explained or even educated-about against my consent. Particularly in a public forum.

We are, all of us, capable of prejudice, bigotry, rage and hatred.


Equally, we are, all of us, capable of great compassion, empathy, curiosity and courage.
I welcome you to—whenever possible- align yourself with the latter.

Take care of yourselves, your communities and one another.
And to all a good night.



11 December, 2024

The Talkback: Part 1

Me V. Outraged Guy
Just left a horrendous talk-back held after the show Off Broadway down at Classic Stage working on The Merchant of Venice.  I wanted to take this opportunity to comment on a few of the subjects that came up in this particularly activating evening. 
 
1. Etiquette
There is a proper and improper way to engage with artists, (and I propose that audiences and theatre producers would be wise to hear our experiences.)
 
2. Be Responsible for Yourself
We must take responsibility for the energy we bring into any room, conversation and/or encounter. 

3. Sometimes Things Get Tough
The Merchant of Venice is a complicated play that brings up a tsunami of unprocessed emotions for many, (particularly when the political landscape exacerbates them.)
 
 
So before I dig in, here are a few PSAs to say off the bat: 
This has been an already difficult week/month/year at work, and this blog has never been a place where I drag, name and shame, or gossip, so I won't start now. Suffice it to say: it was. I'm learning a lot. I'm grateful for the lessons.
 
The Merchant of Venice is a very confrontational piece of theatre that brings up a lot of feelings for people, regardless of the production. 
The theatre-going audience must know that there is a proper and improper way to engage with artists, and producers and even managers need to know that those rules must be communicated clearly by them when they allow audiences to engage with artists. 

We do not allow audiences to enter the orchestra and start playing the priceless instruments.
We don’t allow them to walk around or climb on the sets.
Audiences do not try on costumes, or mess with the sound or lighting boards. 

And yet, over and over again they are permitted and even encouraged to assume authority over the actors and their art. The more we allow these mores to persist, the more respect and courtesy will break down on both sides of the footlights.
 
These observations are ones I have collected over nearly 20 years in show business; they are not exclusive to MoV, though this was a particularly repugnant example of a talk-back gone awry for reasons I am happy to articulate, many of which are entirely universal:
 
1. This talk-backfor the creativesis voluntary and unpaid. 
If you ever attend a talk back post show, no matter your opinion of the work or the piece, keep in mind that actors and creatives giving of their time after work is "extra," and you are not "owed" anything beyond the show you just witnessed. 
 
2. Respect the labor. 
Actors (in particular) have just done something incredibly vulnerable — we've bared our souls to the public in the name of art and social reflection, and one would be wise to take care with how you address and comment upon every aspect of the work. Creatives are human beings with intelligence, life experience and feelings. 

3. Focus on questions. 
That means phrases between 1-3 sentences that ALWAYS end with a question mark. A talk-back is not the time to give the actors or creatives a review, unburden your personal history, pain, or outrage. A talk-back, is, at its core, a Question and Answer session. It is not an opportunity for you to unload or unleash your unprocessed thoughts and emotions. In the age of social media where everyone's opinion (however unqualified or biased) is given similar credence, sometimes we can falsely assume that our sharing our opinions and reviews are legitimate and welcome. Questions, always welcome. Within reason, bring me to...
 
4. Actors and Creatives may decline to answer. 
Actors and creatives always have a right to decline to answer questions or comments that make them uncomfortable or are inappropriate. That includes questions or comments about their personal lives, as well as questions regarding defense of their roles or the production. Actors are only a PART of a production.  Further, actors and creatives take jobs for many reasons, and can't always "speak to" let alone "defend" every aspect of a production — not that that is owed to you anyway. 
 
If you ask a question in a respectful way, it is acceptable to ask a director to offer their ideas/visions for the production, but please decline to review it or offer your opinion unless expressly engaged to do so. 
 
5. Be mindful of the space you occupy and share "airtime" with everyone. 
If you MUST offer a comment, keep it extremely brief, and be mindful that the people on stage owe you no explanations and are human beings with intelligence, life experience and feelings. 
 
6. There should always be an experienced moderator  
An experienced moderator should always be present to set ground rules and keep the conversation respectful, safe, and engaging for all. In an ideal scenario this should be a trained interviewer with journalistic training, preferably with expertise in the arts or the subject the piece of theatre addresses. A producer serving as moderator, or a person with experience in the topic, but not experienced managing Q&As, is not an acceptable or safe situation to put your Actors or Creatives in. Without a professional managing this process, it can be dangerous. The role of a professional moderator is akin to an intimacy coordinator’s. There must be professional representation when intimate contact is required.

*


06 December, 2024

No F*cks!

Pardon my verbosity about something possibly “silly” to the outside world.

But indulge me for a sec. LOOK. Here I am:

- a woman
- [semi] alive in the 21st century
- with a disordered eating and body-dysmorphia history
- covered in scars from 4 life-saving bowel surgeries
- and FORTY-ONE FREAKING years old
- in a BIKINI
- on STAGE
- in NYC
- doing simulated S&M
- with a man 1000% hotter than me. 

with José Espinosa, photo by @antonovpavlun


Even 5 years ago me would be in total shock, and probably require a defibrillator.

No one might assume this of me ("body issues") but— ya know, we all have our histories. My body is one I’ve hated, tried to save, tried to love, and in the end? It is the only vehicle I shall ever have to experience this life. I'm proud that I said "yes" to wearing/doing this with very little internal or external drama (a shoulder shrug and a “sure!”) and no desire to hide the surgical scars or meaningfully cover the “flaws.”

All to say — I might be making a massive fool of myself strutting around onstage in a hot pink bikini — but internally? It’s genuinely a big victory cultivated over years of internal work.

Life’s a journey, kids.
Well, actually it is many— and one of my journeys has been of personal acceptance, surrender, recovering-perfectionism and general self-worth stuff in regard to my internal self and physical form. And I’m sharing this sappy stuff with you because if that is a journey you are on, as well? You’re not alone and there is hope. I never thought [gestures above] all this would be possible and … it is.

So. One day you too might make a fool of yourself in public in a 'proverbial bikini' but know that it is also a huge victory for you.

Life is precious and short and worthy of celebration and laughter. 
So put on whatever "the  bikini" is for you and thrive, pals.


 here I am saying "Yes way, José!"

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