M. Yichao's Posts - TheatreFace

EdFringe: A (Pleasant) Punch To The Face

2013-09-02T17:29:11.000Z

I've been absent from the TheatreFaces for two weeks.

I've been at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival for four weeks.

The EdFringe kind of kicked my butt. In all the right ways.

(Get your mind out of the gutter.)

It was an amazing experience in an amazing city, and the hectic schedule and exhaustion of travel and the confusion and melding of time and days one into the other (and inevitable illness that struck our group like a mini-plague) ultimately took me out from posting.

Last I checked in, I was raving about Bo Burnham. His show at the Fringe was definitely one of the highlights - but there were many other shows, and many other memories, that will stick with me for the rest of my life.

Oh, and I must've eaten like 20 fish and chips.* Also, haggis is not nearly as scary as people make it out to be.

In no particular order, here are some of my favorite memories of the Fringe.

Performing a Show I Wrote in Scotland

This was pretty awesome.

For me, goose was the little play that could this year. This 20 page full length (it's 90% a monologue piece) made semi-finalist at the O'Neill's National Playwriting Conference, won a Kennedy Center American Colleges Theater Festival award, and got a five star review from it's first Fringe reviewer who came on opening day. It featured design and direction collaboration from several amazing MFA candidates at CalArts, Sarah Shoemaker as the goose, and was my first time acting in a piece I wrote. Oh, and I got to do all this in Scotland. As part of the largest fringe festival in the world.

Amazing.

Performing a Show I Wrote in Scotland...for an Audience of One.

On 3 separate occasions. And having one show cancelled due to an audience of zero.

One of the toughest things about the Fringe is you're competing with 2,700 other shows. Getting noticed and getting people to come to your venue (especially as our spot was just off the main map of the Festival, and a few extra blocks down the Royal Mile) is a challenge. It was definitely a different experience getting to perform for an audience of one... when you're monologuing for the better part of the show.

On the flip side of that, on two of the three single audience member days, the audience member came to the dressing room door afterwards and shared how much they enjoyed the show, and how they thought it was a shame there were such low audiences. Performing for an audience of one also was a great reminder that every performance deserves 100%, because to each audience member the story is new and deserves to be told with full intention.

Performing the Same Show for Three Weeks

Any actor on any touring show is probably laughing at me, but three weeks of daily performances for a total of 22 shows was the longest consecutive run of a production I've had to do. It was a great practice in discipline and routine, and endurance.

I don't WANNA do this show AGAIN!

Seeing Endless Amazing Theater

There were so many new favorites that I got to discover at the Fringe. From the ludicrous (Briefs, Sh*t-Faced Shakespeare) to the violent and profound (Red Bastard, Brand New Ancients), to the simple and elegant (Squidboy, Pirates and Mermaids, The Man Who Planted Trees). I could write a blog post about each of those shows, and that's just the tip of the iceberg, the best of the best.** These pieces definitely hit me in the solar plexus and kickstarted my inspiration and excitement about theater and storytelling.

In this show, there's a dog named Dog. It doesn't get much more awesome than that.

Seeing Endless Horrendous Theater

The thing about the Fringe? There is no selection process. It's anyone and everyone who wants to put up a show. And as a result... there are some downright awful shows. Painful shows that makes you wish you could get that hour of your life back. I walked out of a total of 3 shows this Fringe. That makes the total number of shows I've ever walked out of... 4. And that fourth was a movie.

Meeting and Working With Royal Welsh Students

The best part of travelling is seeing new places and meeting new people. I got to meet and work with awesome, cool students from the Royal Welsh School and made many new friends.

Irony: only one student in this photo is from Royal Welsh. The other is a Hamilton exchange student poser.

EdFringe was an amazing experience. I had an awesome time, and honestly am already plotting ways to return next year. At the Fringe, our team joked about the things that got the most audience attention were "free beer," or "for kids," or "nudity."

I think I got the title of my next show: "Naked People Give Free Beer to Kids!"

Guarenteed Fringe Success - or Jail Time.

*only the slightest of exaggerations.

**That I saw. And I liked. Slight bias of opinion, obviously.

///

Hi again! So.

I've been blogging for TheatreFace for two+ years.

Crazy how time flies, eh?

Over the course of the last two years, I've gotten to write about a lot of things. I've had the awesome gift of having the freedom to explore content and form in my writing, even posting some (bad) web-comic style posts.

Getting to write regularly about theater, and specifically about my practice, has helped me hone in on my priorities, look at a variety of topics with a critical and reflective eye, and helped sharpen my writing skills. It's been a real treat.

Today, sadly, is the end of an era of sorts.

While I'll still be posting occasionally, I will no longer be blogging weekly here at TheatreFace. As I'm coming home from the Edinburgh Fringe and fully embarking on the post-graduation life reorganization (say that three times fast), I'll be fairly busy with a flurry of responsibilities and tasks.

I'll still be around for sure, but it probably won't be a weekly thing.

If you like, you'll be able to find me at my website (www.michaelyichao.com - under construction, but due back up soon!) and on Facebook and Twitter.

See you on the interwebs!

Bo Burnham: "What"

2013-08-12T00:37:36.000Z

Once in a while you see a show that hits you and inspires you and makes you excited and thrilled to be an artist and makes you aspire to create work that achieves just a fraction of what you just saw. Once in a very, very great while, that work is a comedy. Once in a rare, rare, rare moment, that work is a stand up comic.

Bo Burnham was that. Absolutely incredible. He takes all of the hyperbolic language found on fliers for other comedians all around Edinburgh - "genius," "a rare talent of his generation," "stunning" - and actually just embodies all of them.

"What," his show at the Fringe this year, was a piece of laser sharp precision, of razor wit and timing and comic genius and raw talent, but also of evident hard work, endless rehearsal, deep introspection, and a piercing and unforgiving questioning of self and society.

Calling it just a "stand up" show would be incomplete, and a misnomer. Though performed by just him, Bo's piece is reminiscient more of a tightly choreographed, staged and written solo piece than just stand up. He pushes the form, tests the boundaries and does his own quirky, honest, naked thing. (Not literally naked. Sorry.)

As an actor and writer, I strive to speak from the heart and create reverberations among greater themes. Bo's show did that, 100%. From the music to the words, from the crass and hilarious to the cutting and the abrasively honest and challenging, his show was it.

Normally I'm nervous to talk something up too much, that someone who sees it afterwards wouldn't be as impressed because it was oversold. I have no such worry with Bo's show, because the work speaks for itself.

It's crazy to think that this guy is just 22 years old (well, 23 in a week, as he says in his show). It's exciting to see someone who is clearly passionate about what they do, and who just put in the work to get really great. The piece is hilarious, but also speaks and addresses very frankly some of his own fears, concerns, and worries, and his coping with criticism, with a sudden explosion of popularity and recognition, and also many bigger thoughts and themes.

For me, Bo's show did what I think all great comedy strives to do: it simultaneously entertains, provokes deeper thought, challenges preconceived assumptions, and holds a bare and ugly mirror up to us and makes us look at ourselves in an harsh, honest light.

If you happen to be in Edinburgh, check this guy out. If you're not here right now... you're missing out.

How To Make a Collaborative Project (That Doesn't End with Everyone Hating Everyone)

2013-08-05T15:05:10.000Z

I love theater because it's kind of collaborative magic.

It's a sort of alchemy where somehow the end result is (usually) greater than the sum of its parts. Where you get to create something, then other people you love and trust add things to your something, and then unicorns and rainbows and explosions of awesome dust burst all over the stage.

Yeah, kind of like that.

But sometimes it's not such a gilded perfect painless union. Sometimes tensions arise and challenges pop up. Sometimes collaboration is difficult and filled with compromise and only happens with really hard work.

And by sometimes I mean every.

single.

time.

I'm currently in Edinburgh, Scotland. My play "goose" just opened as part of the Fringe Festival. So many amazing talented people worked on the show, and I am very proud and grateful to all of them. Still, the process had many challenges and difficulties. While the end product might feel like rainbows and unicorns, the road to this point definitely was paved with difficulty, compromise / problem solving, and back-breaking labor.

Because I love lists, here's a few of the big lessons I've learned (and constantly relearn) about producing your own work (or working on any collaborative project):

Don't Wear Too Many Hats

I am pretty sure I've talked about this before, but it's a constant part of creating work. If you do one job on a project (say, playwright), you can give it 100%. If you're doing two jobs (say, writer AND actor), you can give at most 45% and 45%. Energy and ability is inevitably lost in the transition between the two. Some people are better at minimizing that loss, but ultimately the more jobs you have to do, the less well you'll execute on any of them.

Don't be this guy. (Despite his classy mustache.)

Sometimes multiple hats are unavoidable. You're self producing, it's a small crew, you have limited resources. In working on goose, I purposefully chose to act in this play I wrote because I had never acted in my own writing (other than stand up). I learned a lot about choosing very clearly when I'm looking at the project as a writer, and when I worked on it as an actor (and had to tell the writer brain to shut up, we're not changing that line, focus on your work).

Learn how to do everything, but don't do everything. Know what your publicity person is doing, understand a little about how the lights are working, get a brief introduction to the video design specs. You should be able to communicate with all your collaborators, but don't try to do their jobs for them. It's a collaborative project for a reason.

Speaking of...

Communication: It's Not Just a Worthless Degree

I can say this because I have many friends with communications degrees. And I have 3 worthless degrees myself.

Ha ha joke about communications majors ha ha totally an English major calling the kettle black ha ha

...uh, what was I trying to say?

Ah! Right. Communication. It's key. You hear it all the time, you say "yes yes of course it is," but then you don't do it.

If you're not happy with a design element, speak up. Don't expect it to magically get better. If you don't understand a direction from your director, ask. Don't just grumble to yourself that they're an idiot. If you feel like a member is just not stepping up in their role, address it. Don't let it fester and complain to other collaborators about it over dinner.

Any problem is always much more easily solved when you talk about it in the open early. Let it fester and develop, and it can cripple and kill your show down the road. I know for me, I can sometimes hate this because it feels like confrontation, or I have to address something uncomfortable. However, it's like a band aid: take it off quick and it's not so bad, but leave it on too long and you don't wanna see what's underneath.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew.

Be Nice(r) to Everyone

Some days you just wanna punch everyone in the face. But you shouldn't.

Making cool stuff is hard. It can be really stressful. Everyone is working really hard towards the same goal. Sometimes mistakes happen, and sometimes someone just falls short. Sometimes a collaborator really lets you down and leaves you high and dry, or an actor is just not stepping up to the plate and gives you lukewarm work in rehearsal.

Everyone has off days. Everyone screws up royally now and again. Forgive and let go. If an actor is usually on time and oversleeps one day and is an hour late to rehearsal, I allow myself 2 minutes to be mad (privately, not at them), then I take a breath, and just get to the work. They know they messed up, and me yelling or being upset doesn't actually help anything.

At the end of the day, the project is important, but even more important to me is the people. There will always be the next bigger, better, more exciting thing to make - and I want to make it with the people I've grown to love and trust. Because the current project will end, but my relationship with my talented and awesome collaborators will not. (I hope. Unless someone really did something awful. In which case, sad pandas.)

Less "Blame Game," More "Just Fix The Problem Game"

It was the actor's fault! It's always the actor's fault!

The lighting plot isn't done! The video projection files are all out of sync! We're missing props! An actor is still 30 minutes away from the theater and the house opens in 25! Someone misplaced my pencil!

In making a show, a million things can go wrong, from the small to the big. I've found the less time I let myself get caught up in blaming someone and getting mad at the "person responsible," the more time I have to help actually fix the problem.

So maybe that actor broke that prop for the third time this week. Instead of lecturing him about it then, grab the gaff tape or hop in the car to go buy the replacement. There's always time to fix and address things during notes.

The balance is communicating effectively to avoid repeating the problem, but also not fixating too much on who's at fault that the problem doesn't get fixed and everyone just feels bad instead.

Breaks Are Good For You

Or, nobody likes "only 3 hours of sleep and jetlagged" me.

Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is to step away and take a break. That third run through of the show probably won't improve things as much as taking your cast out for milkshakes.

Best rehearsal ever.

When the room gets tense, or the actors are exhausted, or my designers are on their 14th hour of troubleshooting, pushing more work isn't going to improve things much. Morale is incredibly important to me when working in a collaborative environment. If everyone is grumpy and just at wit's end, no one will be communicating well or putting forth good work.

Step back, step away, take a break. Get a breath, catch some perspective, and come back to it refreshed. Sometimes even just 5 minutes can do miracles. I've witnessed this, and it truly is magical rainbow unicorns.

Also, milkshakes.

Don't Panic

Douglas Adams had it right. When the sh*t hits the fan, don't freak out. Freaking out just contributes to the chaos.

For goose, in the week before we came to Edinburgh, we found out 1) an actor wouldn't be able to join us for ANY rehearsals until we were in Scotland due to a plane ticket error, 2) the video files all weren't working right and were scrambled and out of order, 3) our musician who was going to record a soundtrack couldn't due to a family emergency, 4) the actor for the video parts was out of town for the voiceover recording, and 5) our stage manager wasn't going to be at 90% of our rehearsals.

I definitely had a mild heart attack and considered driving my car into oncoming traffic on the way home, just for kicks.

But then I took a deep breath, called and vented all my frustrations and panic to my best friend, ate two things of Ben and Jerry's ice cream, and got to work for the week. And with the help of my amazing collaborators (special shout out to Rachel Park, my director and pillar of calm and collected brilliance and problem solver), we pulled through and put together a show I am really, really proud of.

===

What tips and thoughts do you always keep in mind when working on projects?

Plan B: or, Please Don't Abort!

2013-07-29T19:47:02.000Z

One time, I was watching a stand up comic whose name I can't remember. He told one joke, randomly said, "you know, I've always been terrible at transitions." Then he proceeded to tell a complete non-sequitur story.

That story would've been a lot funnier if I remembered any of the details about his set. Or who it was. But, uh, trust me, it was funny. And it totally worked.

Banana.

===

Here's the thing I find funny about working in theater, and getting a degree in theater: in no other field or area of study does all your instructors constantly remind you about how you will not make a living doing your job. In no other major are there actually courses titled "Survival Jobs: How to Actually Make Money So You Can Live Like A Functioning Adult While Pursuing Your Career." Even when I was at the National Playwriting Conference at the O'Neill Theater last week, talking with very successful emerging, mid-career and established playwrights, all of them spoke of how you should never EXPECT to make money doing theater, but rather be pleasantly surprised if your plays get you paid now and again.

===

I had the pleasure of meeting up with a few good friends from undergrad the other day. We all had graduated at the same time, and they had moved out here to LA directly to pursue careers in acting. Between school for me and work and auditions for them, it's taken us three years to meet up again. We had a great time chatting and catching up, and discussing the realities of working in theater in LA.

One conversation that came up was the idea of a "back up plan," or a Plan B to fall back on "in case acting didn't work out." The topic came up when Josh mentioned how he also had a passion for teaching, and how he'd love to teach history and theater for high school someday. This didn't mean he wanted to give up acting, but he knew what he wanted to do afterwards. Nick then brought up how some people said you shouldn't have a plan B because it gives yourself a mental "out" or reason to not succeed at acting. I really like what Erica said though: that you just shouldn't call it a Plan B - that your "plan B" suggests, in its very name, that your true plan (that plan A) fell through. Instead, you should have multiple passions that you're pursuing concurrently.

===

I think there is a lot in a name. How we call something directly affects how we think about something. This has been especially true in thinking about what "success" as a theater artist means to me. Am I still successful if I make the art I want to make, but also have to have a job that pays the bills? Is that a "survival job," or is that a "plan B?" What if my job is also creative and I also enjoy it?

Memories of my undergrad professor looking us in the eye and saying, "if you have anything else you like doing in your life other than acting, go do that. You'll be much happier" resurface and haunt my memories.

Primarily because he was old and had scary crazy-man eyes.

===

In America, when someone asks "what do you do?" we answer with our job. I'm a banker. An accountant. An actor. In Europe, when asked "what do you do?" people answer with their hobbies. Their passions. (Or so I am told. This could be a load of lies. I'll let you know once I've had a chance to ask around in Edinburgh. /shameless dropping of the fact I'm traveling)

===

There is a brilliant poem about teaching, in which the poet is asked "what do you make?" as in how much money he made as a teacher, and the poet responds with "I make a difference in kids' lives." Just because I don't make enough money (yet) to live on as an actor/writer, does that mean I am not a theater artist? That I am not successful?

===

It is very easy to lose sight of your goals while working in theater. Or rather, I should say, I find I very easily lose sight as i work in theater. It's very easy to see a friend get a commercial agent and book a great paying gig and think, man I really want that! It's easy to encounter playwrights with residencies, productions, fellowships and a TV-writing job and think man, that's where I want my career to go!

My plan A seems to waver and threaten to change whenever I encounter a cool thing.

It takes effort to really deeply ask myself, what do I truly want? What is my long term plan as an artist? What are my short term goals that will take me in that direction? How do I remember to stay on course but not be closed to other opportunities?

When am I staying flexible, and when am I jumping ship to my plan B?

===

A little secret: having stuff is nice.

I'm 25. Just a young whipper-snapper, according to some. Old and just about over the hill, according to others. (Other whipper snappers.) I've noticed wrinkles on my face for the first time. My metabolism no longer can subsist on a fast food diet and lose weight (oh junior year of undergrad, I miss you). And I like having nice things.

This summer I've gotten to travel to Alaska, the O'Neill Theater, and I'm on my way to Edinburgh Scotland. I've gotten to act and write in stuff I love and am passionate about. I'm traveling and living the dream.

I've also technically been homeless as I floated in between leases, sleeping on the couches of very generous and wonderful friends and splitting my worldly possessions between my car and a storage unit while riding the razor wire of making sure deposits from my jobs and gigs hit just before bill payments threaten to chip me into the negatives.

Having an apartment is nice. Sleeping in my own bed is nice. Making money is nice. Making art is... why am I an artist again?

Road trips to Alaska to make art with two your best friends and favorite collaborators: brilliant and unparalleled.

Having a nice grown up apartment with real non-Ikea furniture: also quite nice.

Must the two be mutually exclusive?
===

Is comfort plan A or B? Happiness A or B? Artistic Integrity: plan A or B? Is plan A and B mutually exclusive? If two bullet trains, A and B, are headed in opposite directions towards each other with A traveling a 90 miles per hour and B traveling add 65 miles per hour, will my life crash into a train wreck of conflicting interests or be pulled apart by forces operating in opposing ways or will it all work out together to explode into a picture of success I did not and could not imagine for myself?

===

The more lines a fisherman has out, the more chances he has for a bite.

However, it also gets harder for him to manage all the fishing poles with equal attention.

I may look good in hats, but if I wear too many, do I just run the risk of looking dumb and not pulling any one of them off?

How many hats is too many? How many metaphors is too much? Why is the rule of three in comedy so dang true?

===

I don't know much of much, but I plan on doing what I do and working hard to be the best at what I do, setting plans as best as I can and not defaulting to a safety net while simultaneously not being closed off to other options.

AKA, do theater as long as it makes me happy.

Are you happy?

Oh Wait You're Famous

2013-07-22T18:30:00.000Z

Hello, my name is Michael Yichao, and I have a problem.

I'm celebrity-blind.

Er, celebrity-blind, not a blind-celebrity.

I can barely remember a handful of celebrity names, and almost never recognize any of them in the street. I once apparently stood in line next to Miranda Cosgrove at the movie theaters and completely missed it. ("Who's Miranda Cosgrove?" asks everyone over the age of 14.) If I walked by Ryan Gosling on the street, I'd only figure it out when the herd of women following him trampled me underfoot. I'm also a boring person and rarely get star-struck. I only follow the barest minimum of celebrity gossip because as an improv comedian, it's a necessary component of my job. (What a boring nerd.)

Being celebrity-blind in LA and Hollywood is a bit of a problem.

Friends often ask if I've had any fun celebrity sightings, and I really don't have much to tell them. After being here 3 years, I really only have a handful of celebrity run-ins. - half of which didn't even happen in Hollywood.

Below are a few of the fun ones:

Nolan Gould

I was at a comic book store playing in a tournament of the Magic: the Gathering card game. (And I'm single. Can you believe it?) Suddenly my friend pokes me and says, "is that the kid from Modern Family?"

At the time, I had just gotten hooked on that show. I look up, and sure enough, there was Nolan hanging out with some of his friends playing Yu-Gi-Oh. Nifty! After debating whether it'd be creepy to say anything, I walk over to their game.

Me: Hey, sorry to bug you, but are you Nolan Gould?
Nolan: Uh, yeah.
Me: Really nice work on Modern Family.
Nolan: Oh! Thanks.
Me: Funny show. Congrats!
Nolan: Yeah.

Then the next round of my tournament was up, and I went back to playing Magic, and he went back to his game of Yu-Gi-Oh.

Loni Ackerman

I was at the Cabaret Conference at the O'Neill Theater last year as a Fellow. It was our first night of performance where we all were singing a song as part of the evening's programming. I'm sitting off-stage and a nice lady next to me smiles and asks, "you excited?"

"Yeah, and a little nervous."

She gives a warm smile. "Me too. I always feel butterflies." We chat a bit before she walks on stage. Michael Bush, director of the conference, then introduces her - "please welcome Loni Ackerman, actress who played Evita and Grizabella on Broadway!"

Brainspolosion.

Lauren Yee

So this one's not really a celebrity (yet), but a fun story.

I just got home this past Sunday from the O'Neill Theater's National Playwright's Conference, where I was in attendance as a playwright observer from the Kennedy Center. While on the plane there, I had picked up a play recommended to me as a strong new work by another Asian American playwright, "Ching Chong Chinaman". (It's a very funny play available through Samuel French, if you're interested.)

When I arrive at the conference, I comment to my friend there that I really like this new playwright, Lauren Yee. As we walk into our first event as observers, our O'Neill host introduces some of the playwrights in residence that summer - including Lauren Yee.

The theater world is tiny.

David Auburn

At the National Playwright's Conference, we were sitting on the porch eating dinner one day when a guy walked up and asked if a seat was open. We said sure and introduced ourselves. The guy said, "hi, my name's David." It was only halfway through my salad and a casual conversation about cucumbers that it clicked in my head. I peeked at his name tag: David Auburn. Pulitzer winner for the play PROOF.

So naturally our next topic of conversation shifted to where we could find the best ice cream nearby. (Michael's Dairy, in case you were wondering.)

That's all for this week. Next week I'll be traveling to Edinburgh for the Fringe Festival on Monday the 29th! I am hoping to schedule a regular blog post while I'm flying over the Pacific, and for the following 3 weeks you'll be getting updates from Scotland.

Have a great week of great theater!

Ladders and Forests

2013-07-15T06:00:40.000Z

It's a familiar image: that of a ladder or staircase leading upwards towards success. We see it in classroom inspirational posters as kids, in articles about advancement and "climbing the corporate ladder" as adults. We are taught and trained that the march towards progress is just that - a forward march in which you should ever be climbing higher and higher.

My experience of reality has been a little different from this image.

The image of the ladder, of the staircase, suggests a clear path. It suggests one right way towards an end destination, one that when reached means we have obtained happiness, success, wealth, etc. It places emphasis on reaching the next tier, the next step. It suggests that success is cumulative and achievements stack one on the other.

The fact of the matter is, success is never a clear road. There is not even just one path to find. The steps aren't linear nor constantly forward - one step forward today could easily translate into three steps backwards or in another direction the next. And ultimately, the end goal is in flux, and constantly out of reach.

Success is less a ladder and more an undiscovered trail through the woods.

The best we can do is pick a general direction, and begin the work of moving towards that way. If we're too focused on the things in the distance, we are sure to trip over the details and the snares underfoot. We have to balance looking up and ahead, and looking down below, and doing the simple daily work of clearing a path before our feet. We plug along at the day-to-day work, the sweeping of the branches aside, the clearing of the brush. Time to time, we look up to adjust our course. Sometimes, we reach a dead end or the edge of an obstacle. Sometimes, we grit our teeth and climb over or dig under. Other times, we evaluate our time and energy, and make the smart choice to walk back and take a new direction around.

Oftentimes it doesn't look like we've moved anywhere. We're still surrounded by trees, and the road ahead is just as wild and untamed as before. But if we pause and look behind, we'll see the winding new path we have laid. It's important to look back from time to time - not only to remember what you've accomplished, but also see where you started and all the different directions you've traveled since your start.

It's also important to remember to be flexible. Keep to your large direction, but don't be afraid to travel southwest and then turn northeast to make it westward. As cliche as it is, the journey and experience is more important than your destination anyway. Patience is important too. Don't rush and try to sprint, because tripping and falling is just going to slow you down even more.

The walk through the forest, unlike the ladder, is also not necessarily a solitary journey. Instead of a narrow ladder where everyone must fight for one avenue towards happiness, there are plenty of people wandering the woods. Sometimes your paths will intersect, and you can help each other through. Other times, it's helpful to swallow your pride and look ahead or behind to see the paths others have taken, and follow a few footsteps. Be generous and stop to help others. Take detours. Make friends. Your sense of direction will only be clearer with others sets of eyes.

These thoughts of the shape of success comes this week as I am attending the National Playwright's Conference at the Eugene O'Neill Theater Center. I am here as a playwright observer, and have gotten to peek into the process and works of the playwrights here. The work happening at this conference is incredibly strong, and these playwrights all have achieved a level of success and accomplishment in their careers that I greatly admire.

When I look at where they are, it can feel at times like they're miles ahead of me, and I cannot see the ladder reaching to them. But then I remember: (cue Matrix music) there is no ladder. They're simply further along their own paths, and that mine, while it may be similar, will take it's own turns. I remind myself that I can call out to them, chat with them about how they got where they are. I can check out their bios and see the fellowships, awards, and grants they have received, and work to apply to those competitions. I can reach a hand out, and know that they are all quite generous with their time and will help me along my way. I remind myself that one or successful play doesn't guarantee the next one will be anything but a bunch of papers shoved in a sock drawer at the end of the day.

I must also remember to just keep writing, keep reading, keep seeing great theater, keep improving my craft. I don't want to spend so much time looking ahead and staring at backs and feeling envious that I forget to just work, just shape and hone my own creative voice.

Take it one step at a time. And know that I will be back here next year as a playwright resident instead of observer.

Work Leads to Work

2013-07-08T17:15:47.000Z

In the days after my graduation from CalArts, I remember feeling a familiar creeping onset of worry and fear - old worries and fears about what would happen next, how I would move towards my big goals, how impossible it seemed to build a career in theater and writing that paid a living wage.

Luckily, I have confronted these fears before. I faced them heading into undergrad, faced them heading into the National Theater Institute my junior year, and faced them heading into CalArts. And while the scope this time is bigger (hello "real world"), I know these fears are familiar and beatable.

The question of "what next" is probably one of the biggest and scariest questions for a young artist embarking on the next phase of their development. How do I get to the next stage? How do I evolve my work? Advance my career?

I know when I look at my big goals, those dreams that are almost too big to say out loud (showrunner and actor on my own comedy sitcom, creative director at a major themed entertainment company, my plays produced on big stages and internationally), they often feel impossibly far away. However, I'm a firm believer in the saying:

"Work leads to work."

I was blessed to leave school with many exciting projects in the air. I was creating a webseries with my improv troupe, Tall Grande Venti wherein we drove from LA to Alaska for donuts. This weekend we wrapped initial shooting for Zombie Apocalypse 101, a new web series created by Anthony Castillo and Jozben Barrett, fellow CalArts alum. Next week I'm headed to the O'Neill Theater as a playwright observer through the Kennedy Center for the Playwright's Conference. Next month, I'm taking my play goose to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival through CalArts.

A part of me worries that I'll finish these projects and then things will dry up and I'll be left bored and unsure where to go next.

A part of me wonders how these projects connect to my Big Dreams.

But a part of me knows that the path ahead will twist and turn, and while I can't see too far ahead, I know I am walking in the right direction. It's only in retrospect that we can easily connect the dots seeing how we got where we are. It's hard to plan ahead and know what big break or exciting project will pop up on the horizon.

And that's the thing that's been so amazing to me. Big breaks and exciting projects do keep popping up - as long as I am working hard. Whenever I focus on my work and do a good job, other opportunities emerge as one project ends. Whenever I am putting an effort into living in the now and focusing on the task at hand, future things open up. It is only when I try to plan out in too much detail or worry about hitting prescribed "markers" or "landmarks" in my career (getting an agent, winning X award, etc.) that I find myself floundering.

Doing great work is an achievable and useful objective. Getting X award or getting an agent/people to notice you is not. The thing is, great work will get noticed, whereas trying to get noticed usually results in doing work to please others rather than things you're personally passionate about.

I'm not saying that I never plan out my life career. I do know however that I am going to stay flexible in my plan and not get caught up on feeling like I have to rush towards my end goal. I will do my work, and do the new work that stems from that work.

I remember standing at the foot of the mountain of my career. I felt like things were impossibly far away, and completely out of reach. But I've put one foot in front of the other, climbed bit by bit, and learned to be more patient as I went along. And now I look back and realize that I have come quite far. I have a Masters degree, I have done projects that sound kind of impressive on paper, I've won a few small awards and honors. I also know I have infinitely far to go.

But I just put my head down and get back to work.

Give More

2013-07-01T17:03:34.000Z

I am pretty lucky.

I just got back from working with TBA theater, an amazing theater company in Anchorage, AK for two weeks. I had a wonderful time and absolutely fell in love with the staff and creative leaders at the theater. They embodied so many things that I love in a creative organization: artistic excellence, a dedication to education, unbridled passion, and endless compassion.

They are also some of the most genuinely generous and kind people I have gotten to work with.

The company is not big. This definitely was not the most well paying job I've had working in theater. But I already know I will leap at the opportunity to work with them again, and the reason is simple:

They ceaselessly give, and it inspires others to give back.

TBA is an example of a company and group of people that simply live by generosity. They don't give because they should, they give because it is inherent in everything they do. They set their ticket prices incredibly low ($10 is a full price ticket to their main stage shows - low even by community theater standards) because they believe the arts should be as accessible as possible. They create as many scholarships as possible for their classes so low income kids can attend. Although the salary is low, they do all they can to support guest artists with housing, airfare and accommodations whenever possible. While working, I felt like I was a part of the family; fellow staff would invite me to hikes, take me around Anchorage to show me the town, and gave their time and friendship. Although I have only known their artistic directors for two weeks, I already think of them as mentors and fellow artists I want to work with and for again.

TBA lives by a lesson I have experienced over and over again in my career: generosity breeds generosity. Their kindness and giving nature had resulted in a fiercely loyal audience and student base. Their staff freely give additional time because they fully believe in and support the mission of the institution. I was happy and willing and hungry for opportunities to work beyond my job requirements.

I am pretty lucky. Throughout my young career I have had amazing mentors who were generous with their time in helping me beyond what their "job description" required. When I started my youth theater, a big company lent us their space with no charge of rent, just a percentage of box office. I am the product of my own hard work - but also a large part the product of the generosity of others.

Give. Be generous. The more you give, the more you reap. Giving opens doors and invites opportunities.

Theater Hipster

2013-06-24T17:30:00.000Z

This weekend, a friend of mine asked what my favorite play was. I proceeded to rattle off three little known new works - two plays by CalArts playwrights and an off-Broadway play that ran 6 weeks in a 50 seat theater in NYC. My friend then followed up with, "what about more mainstream plays or musicals? Any current favorites?"

"Not really. I haven't seen anything mainstream or broadway in a while."

My friend laughed.

"Are you a theater hipster?"

The question made me laugh - then think. Yeah. I HAVE been a bit of a theater hipster lately. "I only see plays you haven't heard of. My favorite play is this obscure work you definitely wouldn't know. I like classics - but only when performed or examined through an experimental aesthetic."

Grad school has turned me into a snob. (Don't worry though - I haven't adopted skinny jeans yet, and I can't really grow a hipster stache.)

On one hand, I'm pretty proud of my new hipster status. New works excite me. When asked my "dream role," I no longer answer with a role from Les Mis or any big play, I say "originating an exciting role in a new play." My aesthetic and theatrical imagination has been expanded and I feel proud that I am more aware of works and plays that haven't yet exploded into mainstream popular consciousness.

At the same time, I have to remind myself not to turn into a theater jerk. I have peers who sneer and turn their noses up at Newsies or Mary Poppins or any musical really, and I have been caught lamenting how there is always a 184267473795th production of Annie going up instead of a more exciting piece. But I need to remind myself that to many people, Annie IS exciting and new - because they have never seen a play before. And the more strange things I like doesn't have to be everyone's cup of tea.

For now, I will proudly wear the theater hipster pants, but still be proud to wave the Disney-Broadway musical flag. (Just no skinny jeans. They make my butt look big.)

Travel

2013-06-17T18:04:44.000Z

I'm currently in Anchorage, Alaska, lesson planning for an improv class I am to teach for TBA, a theater company here.

I had just driven 4061 miles with two friends on an improv and filming trip.

I have a tendency to be long winded, but today I'll try to keep it brief:

If you get the chance in your art practice, travel.

Scratch that. Look for every chance you can in your art practice to travel.

This isn't just (or even primarily) about bringing your art to new and broader horizons. It's about experiencing new places, absorbing new cultures, imbibing new people. It's about expanding your own personal horizons.

I already feel I have grown and changed in the week since we left on this road trip. I know his teaching experience will allow me to grow even further.

Travel. Do it. As much and as frequently as possible.

Tall Grande Venti Presents: Donuts in Alaska!

2013-06-10T03:30:00.000Z

Today is an exciting day.

Today marks the day that Tall Grande Venti, an improv troupe composed of Sarah, Casey, and I, begin our drive from Los Angeles, California to Soldotna, Alaska.

(Follow our adventure on Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube, where we'll have frequent video blog posts updating along the way!)

The road trip is part improv tour, part web series filming, 100% zany adventure. Over the next 7 days, we'll be marathon driving up through Canada to a small town in Alaska. Our destination: The Moose is Loose, a donut shop and bakery. We will be performing improv shows in San Francisco, Ashland, Richmond (Canada!), and Anchorage along the way, as well as teaching improv workshops and classes.

Also, we will be filming an improvised web series, [Donuts in Alaska]. The story follows two best friends ... who just found out they were dating the same girl. And both just got dumped by said girl. So they swear to not let girls get between their friendship anymore... only to end up picking up a girl hitchhiker who leads them north to Alaska. For donuts.

How It Started

On a random Wednesday:

Me: That was a nice rehearsal, guys.

Casey: Yeah.

Sarah: I'm hungry.

Casey: We should go eat a thing.

Me: We could go grab some donuts?

Casey: I like donuts.

Sarah: You know what place has the best donuts? The Moose is Loose, this bakery back home in Alaska.

Casey: Let's go there.

Everyone laughs.

Me: ...you guys wanna?

That's where we'll be in 7 days.

Okay, so some artistic license was taken there. The trip actually spun out of our original intent to attend the Last Frontier Theater Conference as invited performers in Valdez, AK, and possibly driving up to the conference. However, this year the conference started the DAY after CalArts' graduation, and since Casey and I both were graduating, it wasn't going to work. However, we really wanted to go to Alaska still, and so the reason of going to get donuts came up.

Like many of my favorite projects, it started as a joke, a "this could never happen" kind of moment. Then, 7 months and a bunch of grant applications and one very successful indiegogo campaign later, we got the funds and expanded the project into all the components it has today.

The Team

I'm so proud and happy of the creative team that made this project possible. Although only 3 of us are going on the trip, the project wouldn't have gotten where it did without the hard work of these people.

Casey Jackson

He's the director dude with the hat and shades and the badassery.

The "Venti" part of the three-man troupe, Casey Jackson is an amazing actor, improviser, and film director. His first film "Shop or Die" will also be available to view on our YouTube Channel. Casey brings years of improv experience and a sharp directorial eye to our web series.

Sarah Shoemaker

I'm not sure what's happening here, but it's happening in Belgium, where Sarah was last on tour, so it wins major cool points.

Sarah Shoemaker puts the "Tall" in... well, not much, really. But she is an awesome improviser, actor, dancer, and singer and rounds out our troupe. Hilarious and sharp, Sarah is also the reason we're going to Soldotna specifically (and also is the reason why I have a JOB in Alaska after our adventure teaching at TBA Theater)! Sarah is also a part of my next project, goose, which is bound for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August. She is an actress and is the choreographer of the piece.

Cathrin Winsor Farrar

sugary confectionery delights - foreshadowing of this donut -driven project...

Cathrin is an AMAZING producer and manager and produced this project for us. She is the reason we have an itinerary and car rentals and plane fare and budgets all in order. Whenever I have Cathrin on my creative team, my stress level instantly drops by 80%. She is professional, fun, funny, genuine and sweet, and just outstanding at her job. I'm constantly torn between telling everyone how brilliant she is, and wanting to keep her a secret so people don't steal her away for their own projects.

Michael Yichao

Oh yeah. There's this guy.

The Next Step

By the time you're reading this, we will be hitting the road. Follow along on our trip and subscribe to our channel - we'll be posting regular videos and updates along the way! The next blog will be coming from Soldotna, AK, when I start teaching the improv camp for TBA Theater...

Until then, may your crazy projects come to fruition.

Survival Jobs

2013-05-27T17:30:00.000Z

10 days ago, I graduated from my MFA acting program.

It was an exciting day filled with gravitas and appreciation for the serious and studious undertaking I had just completed.

...or maybe I walked across the stage to receive my diploma from CalArts in a Where the Wild Things Are wolf suit.

I'm a grown up with an advanced degree!

As I'm shifting from school into the "real world," a few big questions loom before me. Top of the list of course, is "where will I live?" and "how will I pay the bills?"

I'm very excited to stay in LA. I know where I would like to move towards in my acting/writing career - applying for a TV writing position, working on my own pilots and screenplays in the meantime, and auditioning for TV/film work while also developing my own improv troupes.

Unfortunately, none of those things actually pays money right away.

Make That Money!

I've talked about survival jobs before. I think it's funny (read: slightly alarming) that as an acting student, we had actual classes dedicated to "how you're going to make money - because you ain't gonna make money acting right away, if ever."

An actress playing a broke person. She's going method on this one.

For me, I got pretty lucky: I got hired to a great "day job" a couple days ago with a cool little company that's doing big creative things.

Many actors approach a survival job with the mentality of "I'll do anything." While that is great to an extent, it's important to define parameters that work for you. It's no use to have a day job that leaves you so exhausted, frustrated, or busy that you can't actually pursue your primary goals.

When looking for a day job that allowed me to pursue my writing/acting career, there were a couple key points I wanted to secure:

Flexibility

This is not me. (I wish.)

Any survival job has to be flexible in scheduling. I really wanted something that would let me duck out to a last minute audition or pitch meeting. In this regard, the "stereotypical" acting jobs all fit the bill - any waiter/waitress position that lets me have others sub in would be nice. Thinking more outside the box, this also includes jobs that have you working from home, or commission based jobs that you complete in your own time (web / graphic design work jumps to mind).

Not Exhausting

This, sadly, IS me.

An actor friend of mine worked a retail night shift job. In one sense, this was brilliant - it completely cleared his daytime schedule. An empty agenda is the most flexible agenda! For me though, I knew something like that wouldn't work; I liked sleeping. I didn't want a job that would leave me zonked out or too tired at the end of the day to rehearse, take classes, run lines, look for auditions etc. This encompasses both physically exhausting, and mentally exhausting work. If I'm constantly thinking about and worrying about my day job, I know I won't have the focus to concentrate on my acting career.

Good Pay

A teacher's annual salary.

I really didn't want to work for $8 an hour. If you have a secondary skill, it helps a LOT. Think creatively; nannying, graphic design, teaching, life-coaching, sales, all pay a little more than $3.40 plus tips.

BONUS LEVEL

Those were my three baseline considerations. I also would've loved if the job had...

Good Perks

Er, not those perks.

I mentioned nannying before. The cool thing about that job is it can also mean having free room and board sometimes. It also could equal travel, and may even provide a source of inspiration for writing (rich family drama whoo!) A job teaching also has the perk of helping you hone your own skills. Bartending could be a place for inspiration and to meet people outside your normal social circles.

Whether the perk is financial or creative, it's nice to find a job with added value.

In the Industry

Do tell...

A friend of mine works as a PA on the set of Two and a Half Men. Another friend works as a runner. Another is a tour guide at Universal Studios: Hollywood. A buddy is a Jedi in Disneyland. (Yes, really. Yes, I'm a little jealous.)

It's nice to work in your field, even if it's not directly related to the area you want to work in. I'm always a big proponent of working in jobs not in your metier; the added perspective is hugely beneficial (and as an actor you'll have a better idea of who to ask where the craft services are and who not to piss off).

Creatively Engaging

A job that lets you flex your creative muscles can be great. I know for me, creative work leaves me feeling more fulfilled. Plus, it's great to stay sharp, even if that creativity is only distantly related to acting/writing.

It's All Balancing Act

It's rare to find a job that scores a 10/10 in all those categories. Maybe a job scores 8's in all categories but the pay is kind of low. Or maybe a job pays stupid good money and is super flexible, but will be utterly exhausting to do. The trick is to find the give and take.

(Just remember to take more than give.)

What are some of your favorite survival jobs, past and present? Are there any other factors that you look for in your work?

Try to Make It Bad

2013-05-20T14:20:40.000Z

I've discovered a little secret to doing great work:

TRY to do bad work.

When I first started writing, I would often obsess about each specific scene. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect. I wanted to make sure the story or the play I was working on was really great, that it was strong and interesting and would change the landscape of American theater... or at least that it would impress my playwriting 101 class.

When I was in my first lead role, I was really nervous about getting it right and perfect because it was my first real chance to prove myself in a big part. I worked really hard but was nervous to make any big or crazy choice for fear the director would be mad or my cast mates would think the choice strange.

Here's the thing: the pursuit of perfection was helpful in that it pushed me to work very hard, which is good. However, it also often paralyzed me from being able to take greater risks, to really try new things, and at times, to even get any real work done. Instead of being able to just write things down to write them down, I found myself stuck, or deleting every new page I wrote because it was "bad" or not good enough. Instead of making bold character choices, I found myself playing it safe in my role. Instead of feeling like an equal, I felt like I was playing catch up to the perfection of my scene partners.

The thing is, we (or at least I) often forget that the pieces of theater we most admire (generally) did not leap fully formed from an artist's imagination. It took many drafts, lots of work, taking risks and trying things and failing and then trying it again, to get it all right. It took a lot of "bad" drafts, a lot of "not quite right" versions, before it got to the final amazing productions we get to see.

One of the biggest creative gifts I gave myself was allowing myself to screw things up. To do it wrong, to perform badly. In other words;

Once you remove the pressure of perfection, then you can start to play.

And once you are playing, that's when the real creative fun and heavy lifting can happen.

I had horrible writer's block for the second act of a very personal play - until I said "f*** it" and sat down to write the craziest, "bad" version of the act. It ended up being exactly where the play needed to go.

While performing improv a few years ago, I felt stuck and like I was recycling characters and ideas - until I said "I'm going to just take a huge risk and suck tonight" and ended up having one of my best shows in a long time with new material and ideas and happy accidents.

In two weeks, I'm going to embark on a big improv tour and film making experience, driving from Los Angeles to Alaska. The inspiration was from a "dumb idea" and a "joke" about going to Alaska to get donuts to eat. A few conversations later, it evolved into a serious and exciting creative project which we were able to fully fund with grants and a crowd-funding campaign.

So as you're setting out on your next creative endeavor, give yourself the permission to really suck. Try making that first draft the worst possible. You'll be surprised what you discover in the freedom to be bad.

Freedom to be bad - AND a BADASS.

Anagogical Chaos

2013-05-13T16:30:00.000Z

In undergrad, I had a brilliant English professor for my advanced creative writing courses: TM McNally.

www.tmmcnally.com

My first impression of Professor McNally was him being over 40 minutes late, bursting in the room, looking about, and declaring in a short staccato: "Am I late?" Followed by immediately launching into what appeared to be a random ramble of nonsense. Two hours of talking later, somehow a whole mess of topics ranging from astrology to sports scores to what he had for dinner that night to singing Taylor Swift all tied back together to a brilliant first lesson on writing. He ended the class with, "figure out among yourselves who's bringing in work every week. Someone brings work in every week. Let's not waste any weeks. See you guys next class."

===

In his class, McNally frequently spoke of making our writing and our stories anagogical. While this lesson is still the most memorable, and something I actively work to do in my writing and storytelling, I still have an impossibly hard time explaining what this means (as I am no McNally with the magical ability to tie disparate tangents together into cohesive explanation). Let's start, I suppose, with a little Webster:

an·a·go·ge also an·a·go·gy (n-gj)

n.pl.an·a·go·ges also an·a·go·gies

A mystical interpretation of a word, passage, or text, especially scriptural exegesis that detects allusions to heaven or the afterlife.

Hm. That's not quite what we mean to say here. Let me see if I remember how McNally explained it in class. Below is a transcription taken with supreme liberties (caused by time, a poor memory, and creative license):

"Okay. So. Let's say you have a main character. A guy. Because you know, boy hero chauvinistic world blah blah. And he plays on a baseball team. And they're the little league Cardinals. And let's say a few years later he goes camping with a girl, and when they kiss for the first time, he looks up and sees a cardinal fly by. And then he's in church, repenting for kissing girls, and he speaks to a cardinal! And then he goes to eat at a burger place and it's delicious and it's called - oh wait, that's Red Robin's. But you get what I'm saying." --TM McNally

Chaos theory states systems don't trend towards order, but rather break down into more and more chaotic, unorganized parts. Yet anagocial readings and interpretations seek out the connections, the order, the patterns, of a story - of a life. Connections that seem random and by chance take on an almost spiritual, or astrological significance.

chaos! science! pretty colors!

===

Personally, I can't decide whether this pattern exists or it's just the human mind trying desperately to string together disparate particles and nonsensical coincidence. However, I have observed the phenomenon - and I know stories with strong anagogical elements feel more satisfying and true.

I bring all this up because, of course, my life feels pretty anagogical right now. Things happening today are connecting to experiences I had before, and lessons I've learned in the past are sharpened and deepened by experiences I'm having in the present. And as a theater artist (there's the relevance to this blog!), I know that the more I am able to see and make the connections in my own life, the more I see and understand the subtleties and subtext in a play or part, the more I attune my eyes to the semi-mystical spiritual recurring themes that emerge, the better storyteller I'll be.

We as artists have the job of stringing sense out of chaos. Even if we paint in non-narrative, non-linear strokes and gestures, the impressionistic landscape of emotions we weave tells a story that is undeniably anagogical.

Nothing is random once it is observed.

Technology Ain't That Hard, Guys

2013-05-06T16:06:44.000Z

I realized the other day that I've become that guy.

That guy that you go to for computer help. You know, the "technology guy," the "computer guy." I'm that guy grandma calls when she can't figure out why the internets isn't working, that guy that classmates ask when their projectors don't hook up right in class, that guy the professor always calls up front when the speakers aren't playing the video's sound.

The ironic thing? I'm not even exceptionally good with computers.

I have not taken extensive courses in coding or various programs. I am not a Photoshop whiz, nor am I a hardware junky and pro. I don't actually know what that cable does, or how to hook that screen up to that device. I don't even really know Macs at all (PC all my life, thankyouverymuch.)

But you know what I do know how to do?

Google.

The magical mystical internet actually does contain instructions on how to do just about anything you want to. And I'm not talking complicated, convoluted gobblygook technospeak instructions. I'm talking about step by step instructional VIDEOS and beautiful webpages with clear diagrams and friendly pictures.

Yes, I'm somewhat tech savvy. Yes, I know how to do some HTML coding, and how to do some photo manipulation and basic graphic design. Yes, I'm a fluent user of (too many) social media platforms. But most of my knowledge came from a need ("how DO I clip a sound file and set up a sequence of easy cues to run from my laptop? how do I do it using FREE software?"), google searching, reading the first 2-3 links and watching a YouTube video or two, and then spending a little time tinkering and playing around with the solutions I found.

"That's nice," you're saying. "But what does all this have to do with theater?"

Like it or not, technology, social media, and the internet are all greatly impacting how theater is made, seen, and shared. Heck, you're reading this online right now - and chances are you're part of more than one social network, possibly a social network specifically dedicated to theater (COUGH theatreface COUGH).

It is a part of your artistry and job to understand, learn about, and be comfortable with using technology.

As an independent theater artist, I have produced a lot of my own work. That means learning how to make posters, learning how to build websites, learning how to self-promote and share via targeted and specific social media strategies, learning how to leverage crowd-funding to fundraise, learning how to find and engage in conversation with other theater artists on a national scale. It means learning how to hook up that projector for that video element of our show, it means learning how to run QLab and work the basics of a lighting board, it means understanding how to use Dropbox and other file sharing resources.

I'm proud to say I'm at a point where I can speak confidently about many technologies, where I would feel confident leading a social marketing campaign, where even if I don't know the answer or am not an expert, I can have an intelligent conversation with a designer, marketer, or technician.

But the secret is (and don't tell this to anyone looking to hire me for tech-y things) - I'm completely self taught. And it ain't that hard to become that guy.

If you are guilty of constantly asking your that guy for tech help, consider not asking the next time something comes up. Pull out your iPhone. Open up google. Look for an answer, tinker around a bit.

Teach yourself how to fish.

It's gonna be important as the fish market booms and that guys like me start raising the price of the fish you like to ask us for.

Climb

2013-04-29T08:32:35.000Z

I'm in a good place.

I've had lots of exciting things happen for me this year. I'm about to graduate with my masters degree. I won a few accolades for my playwriting. I am working on some very exciting creative projects. I got to work for some really cool companies. I had interviews and meetings with people I really hope to work for and with someday. I have a core group of fellow artists who I feel utterly privileged to work with, to collaborate with - and feel the same way about me. I have several lines out to exciting opportunities and work that could lead to big developments in my career and life.

I'm also in a scary place.

I have many lines out to potential big future things, but it's possible that it's all just a lot of splashing in the water, and in the end no fish bite. I've met with exciting companies and potential employers, but I could easily screw up the next step. I have lots of cool projects on the docket, and I'm terrified of choking and messing up and watching them all come crashing and burning down to the ground. I'm graduating, but I'm afraid money and student loans will encumber my ability to do the things I want and need to do.

I'm reaching a point in my life where I have something to lose. I've climbed high enough that I get to look out onto the landscape around me - but I'm also high enough to be in trouble if I fall.

Life in theater (and probably life in general) is kind of just a series of climbs. You look up at that impossible height, look forward at that insurmountable wall, and you don't know how you'll get to the next step, the next phase of your goals, the next great peak. But then you set about and just do your work and put one foot in front of the other, and before you realize it you've reached a new horizon.

At the same time, you've poured more and more of your time, effort, energy, life into climbing this rock - and who knows if what's on top is really what you want? And even as you get higher, you realize the danger of it all crumbling out from under you is growing. The possibility of abandoning ship and jumping off, changing course and going to law school or getting a REAL job, is becoming a more and more difficult proposition.

To jump, or to keep climbing?

Either way, life doesn't hand out parachutes and safety nets.

Embrace the fear and unknown, and climb on I suppose.

Break It Down

2013-04-22T14:00:00.000Z

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed.

I just got back from a week at the Kennedy Center's American Colleges Theater Festival. It was my second year attending as an award recipient for playwriting, and it was an amazing week of workshops and meeting fantastic writers and other theater artists.

But that's not why I'm overwhelmed.

I got back to California and, thanks to a delayed plane, didn't get to go home but instead went directly into a rehearsal. And then my work study job. And then to run errands for our final graduating Actor's Showcase performance in LA today at the Falcon Theatre (!!). And then to see a show. And then to another rehearsal. And then home to an email inbox full of unanswered mail, and a pile of catch up work and prep work for shows and projects and classes a mile high.

It's a lot.

I have to remind myself to breathe, and not to panic. When you look at everything put together, it is more than a little terrifying. There's no way I can get all of this work done in the time allotted!

It's a little bit like when you're looking at the end career goals as a theater artist. There's no way I'll make it into acting in a major film! There's no way I'll get my play produced at a large theater! There's no way I'll be directing a major play at my favorite theater on Broadway!

Advanced planning is so important. Goal setting is so important. It's essential to see the bigger picture. But it's also essential to then zoom WAY in and just take things one step at a time.

Instead of worrying about the down-the-line end objective, worry about the moment right in front of you. Or, in actor terms, "instead of playing the end of the play, play each individual moment, beat, and perform-able action." The task becomes a lot less dauntingly impossible, and the roar of stress becomes reduced to a dull background drone as you actually get things done and move things forward.

For me right now, that means not worrying about the 1935072 projects and emails and graduation work and paperwork. It means first just concentrating on a killer performance at Showcase today. Then it means tackling maybe just all the emails. Then sitting down and doing all my paperwork for a project. Then going to a rehearsal. Then writing a paper for a class.

One step at a time. One perform-able action at a time. Take the big goals and projects and dreams and break them down into workable chunks.

Oh, and breathe. Breathing is good.

Grab Bag

2013-04-15T14:30:00.000Z

This week, I have a smorgasbord of random thoughts and observations. None of them make up an entire blog, so I thought I'd toss them all into the mix. (This may or may not be how I tend to cook food... to varying degrees of success.)

Always Follow Up

I've gotten to meet some awesome people over the course of my career thus far. From playwrights, to actors, to designers, I've gotten to meet some of my heroes and have discovered new heroes and collaborators. After a big project or a meeting, I've learned how important it is to follow up, to continue to grow that relationship and friendship.

This is something I'm still getting better at. While I do follow up any meetings I've had with emails and thank yous, I still need to construct my list of people I'd love to keep updated about my work (in a non-spammy way). Growing friendships and professional relationships requires upkeep. You never know when someone could offer you a job down the road - or even better, when you could offer someone else a job.

Ask and You May Receive

I recently finished a big project through my school with a cool company owned by a certain mouse. It was definitely a rare opportunity just to get to work on this project. At the end, I sent an email expressing my thanks - and also asked if there were any further work opportunities. I didn't expect anything to come of it, as it seemed extremely unlikely - but lo and behold, I received an email back from our mentor in the company saying there are some possibilities, and a meeting will be set up! It's not a job yet by any means, but another door is now opening, simply because I asked.

Asking is sometimes the scariest prospect, but as a wise person once reminded me, "the worst they can do is say no." Go for the ask! You never know when they might just say "yes."

Listen to NPR

This American Life, Radio Lab, Prarie Home Companion, All Things Considered, even the news. NPR has so much amazing programming that tell amazing stories or introduces you to things that you wouldn't otherwise encounter in your day to day. I've so often been inspired with an idea for a new play, or gotten inspiration for the seeds of a topic I want to research more, while listening to NPR. They also often have actor and director interviews that are fantastic. Sometimes it's fun even just to listen and pick up dialects, voices, and strong voice performances. If you don't, you gotta start listening.

Travel As Much As You Can

If you're lucky enough to still be in school, take advantage of any study abroad program your school has to offer. If you're working, save up money to travel - even if it's just vacation. It can be as simple as a road trip to another state.

Every time I got to travel to a place outside my home and comfort zone, I learned and grew so much as an artist and person. The chance to encounter new people, new cultures, and even just the change of pace always served to jolt my creative muscles and energize me.

Tomorrow I'll get to go to Washington DC for the Kennedy Center's American College Theater Festival to receive the Paul Stephen Lim playwriting award. Last year I went and had an amazing time. I met so many new playwrights, heard fantastic new plays, and was hugely inspired. In fact, many of my summer opportunities last year came from that travel - and the play I'm going to be taking to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival this year came out of inspiration from that trip!

Plan for the Long Term, Work in the Short

It's important to look out into the future at where you'd like to be in 1, 3, 5 years. Long term planning is helpful in guiding your career and your goals, so you can move towards the big things you want to accomplish.

It's also important to realize that those goals will change a LOT. That unexpected opportunities and road blocks and just changes in life will take you to different places.

Plan for the long term, but work in the here and now. Take it one project and opportunity at a time. I know that when I first got started in theater and acting, I was hugely intimidated by how far away all of my dreams seemed to be. I looked around at other theater artists with their impressive resumes and lists of accomplishments, and I looked at the big projects and movies and festivals, and it felt like I'd never be able to get there.

Today, I look around and realize how far I've come. When I say the things I've accomplished out loud, it actually does sound impressive. And perhaps the most exciting observation: when I look at the big projects and festivals, and artists whose careers I admire, I can recognize I've taken the first steps on those paths. I'm closer now than I was before, and big dreams seem closer to being in reach. And I got here not by just staring at the wistful dreams on the horizon, but by simply putting one foot in front of the other and taking it one show, one project, one play to write at a time.

Good Enough isn't Good Enough

2013-04-08T16:27:09.000Z

Yesterday I got to take part in a student film. It was a cute little short film; I played a small supporting role. While on set, I really admired how organized, well put together and timely the whole shoot was. There were several complicated shots outdoors, through and around traffic, and there was a scene with 10+ extras. The director and director of photography successfully wrangled everything and kept the shoot moving along.

The whole project was for a community college class assignment - "write and film a chase." What impressed me however was the director's bigger vision. Most of her classmates, I found out, just had a little 2 person chase of some sort they filmed themselves. Ande (our director), however, had a bigger vision and pulled the people together to make it happen. She had sent the call out for actors to many other schools - CalArts included. Just that was "above and beyond" what was required for the film.

Everyone on set had a fun time playing a game of "how do YOU know Ande?" Here was a filmmaker in early career who already had a strong network of actors, DP's, makeup people, etc. who had worked with her on several projects. She had a team of people who knew her work and liked working with her - and after just one project, I can see why. She was friendly, patient, but driven, and had a clear vision. She was also open to hearing ideas, and kept the whole process a lot of fun.

As I watched Ande work so hard to make her film, and sawall the strings and connections she effortlessly managed and pulled to film in all these difficult, exciting and challenging locations for just one little assignment, I was reminded of a truism I've learned of this industry: Good Enough isn't Good Enough.

There are tons of aspiring theater-makers and filmmakers. To make it, you can't just be "good enough." You have to be great - you have to be the best. It was inspiring and energizing watching Ande push this to the max in her work. Her passion was clear, as was her talent and her hunger.

When pursuing your craft, don't be satisfied with being good enough. Don't do the bare minimum of the homework. Push yourself, challenge yourself in finding what else you can do to improve. When you work as hard as you possibly can, you'll discover another truism: work leads to work.

When your work is outstanding and you've poured your energy into the process rather than worrying about the product and what awards/recognition comes with it, you will naturally attract the recognition you're hoping for. In tracking my own career, I know all of the most exciting projects I'm on now had their seeds planted from previous projects and assignments I've worked hard on.

Do great work. The rest will follow.

Good Enough isn't Good Enough

2013-04-08T16:00:00.000Z

Do great work. The rest will follow.

Actors Suddenly All Decide to Grow Up, Get Real Jobs

2013-04-01T16:00:00.000Z

Across the nation, actors everywhere walked off stage, packed up their make up kits, took off their ridiculous costumes, and went home and back to their real jobs. In an unprecedented moment of clarity, these "artists" all realized that what they were doing was childish, unrealistic, and really just a waste of everyone's time and money, and that they were better served pursuing realistic careers and life plans.

"It just hit me," said Ryan Gosling, ex-actor. "I spent so many years wasting my life, inspiring women everywhere to fall in love with me, when I could've been enacting real change. By being a waiter or cab driver."

"The whole acting thing was just a temporary stepping stone," agreed Anne Hathaway. "I just got into it to support my real career of Starbucks barista, but somewhere along the way I allowed myself to get distracted from my real goals."

Mentors in acting programs at colleges all are advising their students to get out, quit, and run away as fast and far as you can. "This isn't a career, it isn't a sustainable way of living - it's a delusional Neverland desire to preserve imagination and joy, two things everyone knows is not allowed in the Real World," admonished Travis Preston, dean of the California Institute of the Arts Theater Program.

Meanwhile, stage managers everywhere shrugged and continued calling their cues. "It's easier now without those guys always missing their light or showing up late or stealing our pens," one was heard muttering.

Back to being sexy construction workers for us.

How to Take a Meeting with an Agent or Manager

2013-03-25T16:00:00.000Z

You did it: through whatever various means, you suddenly find yourself in the room of an agent or manager for an interview! Let's say, for completely hypothetical and non-autobiographical example, they saw you at a graduating showcase and invited you in. You probably have had less than 24 hours' notice, you might've been asked to bring additional monologues and songs and headshots, and you're given an address you've never been to. What do you do? How do you prepare?

Here's one way to think about it:

A meeting with an agent or manager is just like a first date.

There! Aren't you glad we now have that non-stressful, always fun and successful comparison to go on?

Here's a couple words of advice.

Don't Over-Dress or Over-Think
You don't want to show up for a first date in a tux, or take the date to Disneyland or on a vacation to the Bahamas. You're putting too much pressure on both the other person and yourself. Similarly, don't show up to an agent or manager dressed to the nines.

...But Still Present the Best You
That said, don't show up in pajama pants either. The key is be yourself - the BEST of yourself. Wear your favorite shirt or cute dress, bring your favorite monologues that show a glimpse of who YOU are.

Be On Time: AKA, Be a Little Early
First dates and first meetings are first impressions. In a business where timeliness is essential, you should work to give a good first impression. When I was in NYC, I always gave myself an extra hour on top of the expected travel time (for traffic, and because I'm terrible at directions).

At the same time, you don't want to be TOO early. Sometimes the office is really small and they don't have space. I try to bring a book and know the location of a nearby Starbucks so I can read for 10-15 if I'm excessively early.

Bad First Daters
Some people are really bad at first dates - even people that we really like, or are actually really awesome! Similarly, some agents can give really awful first impressions. I had one meeting with an agent who during my monologues did not look at me, answered his phone, sent an email, ate his sandwich... But at the end of the meeting he expressed interest and asked me to notify him if I'm moving to the city. In general, give people the benefit of the doubt and don't take things personally.

You Don't Need Their Validation
By the same token, sometimes people are just actually assholes. Cecily Strong of SNL, a recent CalArts alum, talked to us about how right out of school, she had met with people who were awful to her, telling her to lose weight, that she didn't have a face for film (TV MAAAYBE but film no), all kinds of horrible things. Just like how you don't need the validation of some random creepo to know you're a worthwhile and interesting person, you also don't need the validation of some agent or manager to know you're a worthwhile actor.

Background Checks / Do Your Homework
Before going on a date, it never hurts to do a little work to screen out the crazies
- or even just the incompatibles. Is she notoriously mean and shallow? Is he super-obsessed with hunting while you're a vegan? Similarly, is the agent a theater focused company while you're looking at TV/Film? Did a friend have that manager for two weeks before firing her because she's awful?

Walk in with some familiarity with the agent/manager's work. In the digital age, it's pretty easy to gather at least some cursory information. Also have questions ready; you're interviewing them as much as they are you.

Love is a Two Way Street
So is signing with an agent. Remember, if they asked you in, that means they're at least a little into you! That doesn't mean however you HAVE to be into them. Just as they're seeing if you fit what they're looking for, you should be seeing if they fit where you want your career to go.

Blind Dates
It's important to know that sometimes you're going into a meeting on a blind date. From my showcase, I walked into a few offices where the manager didn't actually see my performance - their assistant or partner did. (Or they just liked my headshot.) Those are just tougher nuts to crack- there's just less common ground to start conversations. Be aware and be prepared.

Don't be Afraid to Make the First Move
Now might not be a good time to confess I'm terrible at first dates. I get shy, and often don't know how to approach the initial ask. But if I'm really attracted to someone, I get over it and just take a leap and introduce myself.

Translating that to agents and managers is a little different. Most agencies don't take blind submissions (they're inundated with them, like the lone girl at a bar on a Tuesday night). However, if you, say, work in the same office as that lone girl, or perhaps know her cousin from high school, you can at least start a conversation.

Similarly, I had reached out to an agency I was really interested in that came to our showcase, but didn't ask me for a meeting. Guess what: they sent me a thank you, and asked for a headshot and resume to keep on file.

Now, was that the agent-equivalent of getting friend-zoned? ...a bit. But that started a relationship I otherwise would not have had at ALL. Now in the future if they see me around, they might actually remember my name at least instead of me being another anonymous face.

A quick note: if you're doing the initial ask, it's important not to be asking FOR something. Don't be that skeezy guy at the bar. Just start conversations and build relationships. Does that skeezy guy get the girl? Sometimes. Are they meaningful relationships that help him find long term happiness and success? Rarely.

Follow Up / the Second Date
Let's say the meeting went great. They asked you questions. You asked them questions. You both got to know each other better, and you both are obviously excited and interested. What now?

Sure, some of us then immediately get married right away because it's true love at first sight and we sign contracts and ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after with flourishing careers.

For those of us who aren't Disney princesses, we have to follow up on the second date. If it's possible, I hate asking for the second date more than the first. I mean I THOUGHT we both had a good time. DID you have a good time? What should I talk about? When should I ask it?

Personally, I try to email a thank you to the agency within 3-4 days of the meeting, regardless of how it went. I add in a line about following up, giving clear timeframes they can expect to hear from me. Then, for those relationships I'm interested in growing, I also add them to my calendar to keep updated about my career (usually quarterly or bi-annually).

The key is to remember you're building relationships, not one night stands. Be open, be honest, be yourself, and keep in touch.

Wrap Up
Meeting with agents and managers can be a stressful, difficult task that no one really can teach you how to do well. But just like first dates, it can also be a fun, exciting activity filled with adventures and great stories. And who knows? You might just find that perfect match (probably with the ones you least expected).

Agent(cy)

2013-03-18T11:00:00.000Z

Today, I am performing in my graduating showcase with CalArts in New York City.

Today, my graduating company and I will strut our stuff for agents, theaters, and industry folk.

And at the end of the day, some of us may have a dossier full of said agents and managers approaching us for interviews and conversations.

Some of us will also walk away empty handed.

Will I be disappointed if I get no meetings? A little, sure.

But I also know that an agent doesn't make a career; an actor with hustle makes a career.

Someone told me that Leonardo DiCaprio got his role in Django by making sure that he was on a list of people to get advanced copies of anything from Tarantino, by auditioning, and by pursuading Tarantino, who thought DiCaprio wasn't right for the part, through repeat auditions and steadfastness. I like that story because 1) I thought he was amazing in that film, and 2) even at that level of success, it's the actors who hustle who get the part.

cheers to you, sir.

And I also know the best opportunities, the ones I am deeply excited about, I already have. It's the young theater artists I've gotten to meet and work with throughout my studies, the people and companies and movers and shakers I've connected with throughout my grad school career. It's the opportunities and doors I've worked hard to grab onto and open through my own work these last three years.

Many people think about their showcase as a culmination of their school and work. I disagree. In reality, I know showcase is but a small slice of what I do, who I am, and the huge array of opportunity and options I will have in my artistic future.

So am I nervous? Honestly - not really. I'm excited, and thrilled to be in a city I love with 40ish of my favorite friends.

And that feels great.

(If you're in NYC, come to the Five Angel Theater on 789 10th Ave and say hello!)

Specificity

2013-03-11T14:30:00.000Z

If you're an actor, you've probably heard endless variations of this note before:

Make a more specific choice.

Be more specific.

You're too general/vague/unclear; specify your action/motivation.

My favorite iteration of this comes from one of my Shakespeare teachers, Karina May:

"General acting is generally uninteresting."

Regardless if you're performing contemporary or classical text, traditional narrative stories or wildly experimental movement-driven pieces, specificity in choice on stage yields a stronger story. By zeroing in on the why, on the exact way, method or reasoning behind an action, you strengthen and clarify your motivations and intentions.

It's funny that after getting this note so often onstage, that actors often forget this note off-stage.

When asked what an actor wants to do, "I just want to work" is often heard as an answer.

I just want to be a working/paid actor.

I'd just like to book a gig.

I just wanna land a big commercial or something.

In the tough and competitive acting market, oftentimes it feels so hard to even get into the audition room. We just want to get cast in something, just want to act and make next month's rent from some commercial or booking.

But just as general acting is generally uninteresting, general career building leads to a general, vague, wandering career.

As Dallas Travers, life coach and entreprenuer, encourages: "Let’s drop the “just wanna work” thing and get specific about the direction you want your career to go."

Rather than aiming to just work or book the next gig, be specific about where you want to go, your targets, your goals. Be specific about your biggest dreams, your "it'll never happens," your blue sky ideas. Then get specific about how to get there.

In acting, if we break down a huge character or story into objectives, beats, and scenes, a daunting role becomes a performable sequence.

Similarly, if we break down our dreams and careers into objectives, goals, and actions / steps we can take, a daunting level (say, performing in a national tour, or booking a big TV sitcom) becomes an achievable place.

Specificity, specificity, specificity.

So Hard to be Easy, or, Yet Another Internet Love Letter to Jennifer Lawrence

2013-03-04T16:00:00.000Z

J-Law and the Oscars

So I missed the Oscars last week.

I got swept up working on some writing thing or other, and honestly, I had never been super sucked into the whole movie star craze bananza in the past anyway. Plus, the day before the Oscars I totally got caught in in a bonus 2 hours of traffic thanks to all the closures around the Oscars, so maybe I was subliminally bitter as I neglected the awards show for my own work.

However, one thing I couldn't avoid: the meme and media blitz around Jennifer Lawrence.

Jennifer Lawrence: the girl every guy wishes was their girlfriend.

If anyone was guilty of "making it look easy," it'd be her: 2 Oscar noms (and a win!) at age 22, charming and sweet in interviews, totally candid and not swept up in the glitz and glamour of Hollywood and celebrity.

In fact, she specifically has talked about how she "doesn't work hard" on set - doesn't do hours of research, or "really work to get in character," and sometimes doesn't memorize all her lines. In interviews, she's quoted as saying she hates going past the 8th or 10th take as things start to feel dead. And judging from results, this way of working seems to be working just fine - a conclusion that has made several good friends of mine bristle at how she apparently doesn't work and just easily kills roles and gets success.

Sudden seemingly tangential story time:

In high school, I was one of those jerks who wouldn't study for tests and still miraculously get A's. School was "easy" for me. Open the AP biology book for the first time the night before, cram until 6 AM, walk in and get a 4 on the test. No sweat. I had a friend who told me that she actually hated me at first because she would study for hours and get lower scores than me.

Seemingly tangential story #2:

When I first started auditioning for shows and acting, it was the easiest thing in the world. I showed up, I didn't know what was happening, and BAM I'm cast as a munchkin, or an ensemble kid, and man was it fun. It was just play. Acting was just walking somewhere, saying some words someone else gave you, doing some actions someone else told you, and suddenly people adored you. What a sweet and easy gig!

Then I got to college and got more serious about acting. And I thought, "the theater half of my double major is gonna be such cake. Walk on, say some things, get cast."

Instead, I sucked. Like, really really sucked. Like, couldn't get cast in anything for the life of me at my university. I hadn't put in the work. I didn't have the confidence. I didn't have the technique, didn't know what I was doing, and I allowed my nerves to get the best of me SO much of the time. It took lots of hard work, various awesome training programs, and lots and lots of practice, sweat and tears for me to arrive at a place where I am confident and skilled enough to think I'm not so bad at this thing.

Back to Jennifer Lawrence

Still reading? No? Here's another picture of Jennifer Lawrence being Jennifer Lawrence.

Now that we're all back -

You have to work hard at what you do. But here's the difference between say Anne Hathaway and Jennifer Lawrence (and here's where I get murdered by all Anne Hathaway fans):

One shows you all the hard work they do. The other just does it and makes it look easy.

Anne (who I loved in Les Mis and generally like just fine as an actor) often comes across as "acting." She shows the gears at work behind the clock, so to speak. Jennifer comes across easy, natural, effortless. Any hard work is internalized and a part of her performance, rather than displayed.

For me, it's kind of like how after my first few speech classes for acting, I found myself over-articulating everything to such a clean crisp degree that it wasn't natural. Look at me, Ma, I had training! Yes, you gotta sweat and work, but that doesn't mean you have to keep that sweat in a bottle and wave it around at everyone yelling "SEE HOW MUCH I SWEATED?! THIS MEANS I DESERVE VALIDATION!!"

Hardly Easy

So here's the thing. Maybe Jennifer Lawrence really doesn't have to work hard. Maybe acting is to her is what AP biology was to me (man I sound like an arrogant jerk, but you know. I'm not Jennifer Lawrence.) But instead of feeling resentful, I genuinely feel admiration - and also am comfortable in the knowledge that I don't work like that. I have to do some homework, I have to practice so much until it becomes what to her is already natural and easy and effortless. And I'm okay with that. Instead of buying into the Hollywood story of the singular genius, and obsessing over the lucky naturals and wishing we were them, let's do the extra work and achieve just as great success.

To sum it up in an over-the-top analogy (cuz you know, that's what I do best):

Ms. Lawrence glides easily on wings. I sit down, draw up blue-print diagrams, call up some friends to help me fabricate wings, run test flights and aerodynamic checks, apply feathers and aesthetic design elements, flap like a mother trucker to gain altitude - then forget it all and glide easily on my wings.

And because you read this far, one more Jennifer Lawrence picture for the road:

Yes No Maybe So

2013-02-25T16:25:34.000Z

In performing improv, there is a key tenet: try to say Yes to everything. The concept is that by agreeing instead of denying, the scene can flow better and new information and experiences can be discovered.

As a theater artist, I have found that the ability to say yes is incredibly essential - in and outside of improv. Saying yes to new projects, new experiences, challenging and scary roles all enabled me to grow faster as an artist and person.

Saying yes can be hard. Saying yes means taking a risk, and often means stepping outside the known and comfortable. It is incredibly important to say yes.

Problem is, I say yes too much.

I say yes to too many projects where I'm just helping friends out. I have a hard time turning down work, especially paid work. Recently, I auditioned for so many voice-over roles for the animators' shorts at CalArts, and said yes to every single one that offered me a role. I said yes to a film project where I'm an extra. I said yes to directing a silly little play for our New Works festival. I said yes to helping to write on a project I'm not passionate about, but is the pet project of a good friend.

Sure, all of this doesn't sound like a problem - but when all is said and done, there is a finite amount of time in a day.

As an artist, it can be very hard to turn down a gig. However, it is important to learn when you can (and should) walk away, or just not join in the first place. If as an actor, the role calls for you to do something against your morals, if the role would take up too much of your time, or if the role is in your best friend's short film and you just have no interest in the actual project, but feel bad because your friend asked you - these are all times where it's important to have the strength to say NO (but thank you very much).

Finding the balance of saying yes or no can make a huge difference between being happy and artistically challenged and satisfied, and pulling your hair out at 4 am when you're over-committed to work you're not passionate about, or when you're embarrassed to see your name on the credit of a project you don't love.

Collaboration Courtesy

2013-02-18T07:30:00.000Z

How to participate in an independent, collaborative theater project:
1) Show up.
2) Show up again.
3) Show up again, again.
4) Keep showing up. It's half the battle. Stick to your commitment to the project.
5) Ask questions. There really is no such thing as a dumb question. Only dumb people who pretend they understand when they don't and then go on to mess everything up through miscommunication.
6) Check in , follow up, and remind people of rehearsals, meetings, etc. People forget, and sometimes they don't show up only because they forgot, not because they don't care.
7) Get your work done early as often as possible.
8) Show up early as often as possible.
9) Work with a contingency plan. People WILL drop. Emergencies WILL come up. Have back ups to your back up plans.
10) Prepare to improvise when your back up back up plans fall through.
11) Be demanding. Push yourself and your team hard.
12) Be forgiving. Give your team and yourself breaks.
13) Be flexible. Things WILL go wrong.
14) Be rigid. Work towards only the best.
15) Work with people with a shared langauge and training. People who share your interest, your drive. Who get excited by the same things.
15) Don't work with people with a shared language and training. People who work how you work. Work with people who have different aesthetics and methods. Work with people you disagree with. They will offer a different perspecive and give you more options.
16) Do or don't, yes or no, do your best to assemble a team who you trust and respect and enjoy making work with. Don't get caught up in politics.

Someone once asked me what the best connections I made in grad school were. What professionals or stars I had met and networked with.

My answer was, all the fellow artists in my class who you haven't heard of, but will be household names in 5 years when our work takes off.

Making theater is hard. Collaboration is hard. It's easy to get frustrated. But the results when you find success and unlock things you wouldn't have been able to otherwise speak for themselves.

Surviving or Living

2013-02-11T17:37:28.000Z

Acting is a funny business.

I can't think of another career path where, if you go to college, you'll have courses that teach you what to do when -- not if -- you don't find work in your field. Often referred to as "survival jobs" or "day jobs", most actors know they will have to have a "side hustle" or some other way to make money as they work towards being a full time actor.

Acting is also one of the careers where it is easiest to get sidetracked from what you really want.

There is so much glitz and glamour, and different areas of acting. Also, the popular conception of "success" for an actor can be very different than what you as an actor actually want, or would enjoy.

Often, success according to "everyone" means becoming a big movie star, or "at least" making money from acting alone so you no longer need a day job / survival job. It can become really easy to only focus on booking the next commercial, getting the next paying gig. And if a person's dream is just to make money acting, perhaps they could truly feel fulfilled and successful when they are booking commercials and paying bills just from acting.

For me, however, I know that the reason I went into acting is not because I wanted to sell shampoo or be a voice over announcer for commercials or make a lot of money or be able to say "hey I was on TV people were looking at me I'm so popular."

I am an actor because I want to tell stories, to touch lives, to share experiences that move people. Sure, I'd be happy to book a national commercial that pays for 6 months' rent in 2 day's work. However, that is not my picture of "success." To me, if all I was doing as an actor was booking commercial jobs and voice over spots for companies and industrials, I'd consider myself failing even if it gave me a comfortable level of income. Acting would have, in that case, become just another "survival job." And really, that would be the biggest failure of all -- taking something I love and turning it into something I have to do just to make money.

In America, if you ask someone what they do, they answer with their job. In Europe, when asked the same question, people answer with their hobby. If I get to act in the films and plays I want to and tell the stories that matter, I would call myself an actor moreso than if I were simply booking commercials and making money acting.

Maybe that's naive, but I'd rather do what I love and happen to get paid than get paid to do something that I don't really love.

From the Trenches

2013-02-04T15:29:19.000Z

We all have them. Funny stories, horror stories, scarring stories, inspirational stories. Part of the joy of theater-making is the amazing people and bizarre situations and exciting escapades we find ourselves in.

Here is a menagerie of some of my memorable moments and thoughts from 7 years of theater.

Toot Terrible to Tell

I'm in the audience of Billy Elliot on Broadway. It's reached the emotional climax of the show, where Billy is asked by the panel why he likes dancing, right before his big song "Electricity." He is scared, nervous, alone.

"Well," Billy says. "It's because..."

A pregnant pause suspends, just before the orchestra starts in --

And then someone in the middle of the orchestra seating lets out a loud, loud fart.

...And like a room full of fourth graders, the audience starts snickering. And laughing. Just as the little boy playing Billy starts into the most emotional, heart-wrenching song and scene for him in the musical.

To the credit of the boy playing Billy, he did not once break character or become distracted. He maintained his character and emotional place in the scene for the entire duration, even as audience members, full grown adults, gaffawed like a bunch of 6 year olds at a fart through the first minute of the song.

Totally Meant to Do That

In a production of Firebugs at CalArts, I played a member of the fire brigade. A blind, mute, piano playing, clarinet rocking, dancing fireman. There is one scene where we run across the set and then freeze into tableaus, then shift into a slow-motion dance sequence. In that same scene, there are also cardboard boxes strewn across the set, and general chaos and mess.

On opening night, as we run across the stage, I run across the stage with the other firemen -- and trip and fall not once, but twice, over the boxes in a span of 4 seconds (the first time catching myself, the second just faceplanting.) I claw my way up and join my fellow firemen in our slow motion sequence, only to see 7 other yellow jackets quivering with silent laughter.

Afterwards, my director came up to me and said, "OF COURSE the blind fireman falls when he goes to dance. Keep it forever."

MFA Schmemefay

In undergrad, I remember I looked up to the MFA students and thought "man, those are REAL grown ups who know what they're doing."

As an MFA, I can safely say that is not true at all.

Nike got it right.

2013-01-21T11:30:00.000Z

Making things is hard.

Anytime you try to make something, there is inherent risk. There is the risk of failure, the risk of messing up, the risk of doing it wrong. And risk is scary, and uncomfortable, and frustrating.

Talking about things is easy.

Anytime you plan or dream, it is inherently low risk. Things are hypothetical, things are "if's" and "when we's." Talking is great, because it feels productive and like progress is being made, and everything can be perfect in hypothetical land.

The hardest part of any project is moving from the "talking" to the "doing."

This is not to say that one shouldn't talk or plan. However, I have been involved with (and sometimes led) many artistic projects that spent a LOT of time in the "talking" phase. We plan, and we have meetings, and we discuss. We have endless tablework sessions, dissecting and intellectualizing and debating. It's ages before we ever get on our feet and just try things out.

Again, all the talking is important. Tablework and discussion is important for everyone to get on the same page. In devised work, it's important to discuss and brainstorm. But then the point comes where you just have to get on your feet and do it. Try it. And I think that point moreoften happens too late in the process, rather than too early.

Doing is uncomfortable and hard, because what was hypothetical, and what lived in the realm of perfection in the planning stages, in the brain space, is now going to have to shift into the imperfect real, physical world. But only by doing can you begin to problem solve, and work to bridge the gap between what the imagined / planned ideal, and they physical embodiment is. Actually doing forces all those vague points, all the parts we gloss over when we're planning or imagining, to have to be solved and discovered.

I've found this is true of anything; writing a novel, creating a character, directing a play, devising a piece of theater in an ensemble. It's also true of deciding to go back to school, planning a trip, or making a resolution to eat better. There's always a reason to plan more, to talk more, to perfect it more in theory land.

Secret is, it's not going to perfect no matter how much we talk. That initial move into putting it into real life can be messy, and bad, and awkward - but only then can we really dig in and move forward.

So, as the slogan goes: just do it.