getting noticed

I have been in Chicago now for over 3 months. Is that long? Is that short? Am I still a newbie to the scene? Not sure. What I do know is that I am establishing myself as a person in a sea of people intent on finding love, meaning and excitement in the methodical walk to work and selling of their wares or talent. So sure, life is fine: I'm enjoying my job, my new and old friends, my new home.  But I know the question on many of your minds:

Have you got any gigs yet? Has your love of the theater been acknowledged?  Well, no. I don't, and it hasn't (at least to my knowledge and according to my resume it hasn't).  So it leads me to something I've both struggled with and rested comfortably in: how to get discovered.

I recently came across an article written by Garcia and Braun on backstage.com (read it all here) and it stuck with me.  Specifically one part that beautifully sums up what I think all people should keep in mind regardless of career choice.  Now, keep in mind that most of the articles on backstage are geared toward young theater professionals that are trying to 'make it' (whatever that means) and all love to hear that their passion will not let them down-so it is very much 'if you work hard you'll succeed' which is sometimes hard to believe but we all love to hear it.

"Perhaps the easiest way to get discovered is to lose interest in discovery because you’re so profoundly in love with the art of acting, doing it for it’s own sake. When you lose yourself in it, focus on each glorious moment as opposed to the end game, and do the work of falling in love with acting, discovery comes."

So there it is.  A reason to work hard and expect nothing. How terribly dificil.

I continue to audition and I continue to try to enjoy my day job.  Because when you focus on each glorious moment as opposed to what may come to you further down the road, life is much easier to digest and glean nutrients from. 

saying yes

sometimes i want to huddle into a tiny ball and not let any world in
but then i would just be a little salty olive

then there are other times when i think i should go cold turkey quit my job and depend on the good lord to give me enough gigs to keep me employed
but then again there is little joy or productivity in putting blinders on yourself

i think if self is determined by both nature and nurture
it is my responsibility to nurture my nature by saying yes


the final question
can yes ever be detrimental

thank you e e cummings for paving the way for this post

Life takes time

Yesterday I had the experience (of a lifetime?) to accompany an audition at the Goodman Theatre.

Ok. That sounds like I'm bragging and really its just playing the piano while someone else is auditioning - but never in my life did I imagine I would be sitting at the piano being a fill-in accompanist at such a large theater.

Life is just weird sometimes. I can work my butt off trying to find work, and gigs, and 'art' and at the same time, opportunities can just fall right into my lap.

I pass this very small (about 1 inch square) graffiti on a door by the street every day on my way to work that reminds me:

Literally, life is eating up time as we go along: don't sit around waiting-it'll be gone before you know it!

Alternately, life does not happen all at once. It takes some time before it gets exciting. Patience, friend.

How do YOU find the balance between patience and actively seeking out 'life'?

another untitled one.

This post has no insight, no words of wisdom from Ms Smith, no glorious update of my acting 'career'; so if that is what you came for, I offer my most sincere apologies.  

I just finished (for the umpteenth time) reading Catherine Butterfield's "Joined at the Head": a play that I always thought to be about a woman who has cancer and how her husband deals with it.  The juicy bit of conflict rises right away where Jim's high school lady-friend arrives in time and continually comments and processes with the audience about Jim's marriage and his wife's failing condition. As I previously mentioned, I always thought the play was 'about' strength and courage and everything that couples 'deal' with when they're faced with cancer.  But as you can probably guess by now: I was wrong. I don't know what the ultimate theme is- I'm still trying to figure it out.  But there is a line in the play that struck me especially (I took the liberty of attributing it closer to the theater world): 

"I think it's a writer [actor, director, and so on] thing.  You spend all your time looking at other people's lives, you get out of the habit of looking at your own.

No, that's not it.

It's not? 

I don't think so.

(Pause) No. I'm afraid if I look, I'll see someone I really don't like at all."

Ok so it is kinda far out there and I want to saw that I can't totally relate this to my own life, but it is an interesting thought.  I believe that the artist's work is supposed to reflect.  So this means observation in order to send back the images, words, actions, relations, etc. Do we choose to see? Or are situations, images, conversations just thrust at us and we make sense of them in our own way in our own little worlds?  And how can we be objective about our own lives and experiences when we are completely consumed by them? I think my main question here is do we generate 'art' based on our own personal experiences or by our reactions to an outside imagery? 

I think the caffeine is getting to me - I'm creating blog-barf.

Read the play: my thematic material in this post is just a portion of what the play really is. 

Keeping the faith

Good grief.

Have I really gone this long with this amount of crazies to write about?! The three of you who are reading this are saying, "Yes. Jay, yes you have".

Quick update for those of you who I have been an awful friend/family member to: After finishing up a season at Summer Stock near Indianapolis, I started to gather myself to move to Chicago. I arrived hear in September, landed a job within a few weeks at the place that I wanted (it took lots of interviewing-turns out, job applications are fun! who knew! [not]) and am living comfortably with two roommates that I just met but turned out to be pretty neat. That's the short of it-so if you want more juicy details, by all means: read on.

Since September I've been auditioning here and there for shows and theater companies that twinged my interest, but I'm not really serious about getting into one this early (or maybe that's just an excuse for my failure to book anything). I have really enjoyed dabbling in the audition scene here in Chicago and rubbing shoulders with people who I expect to work with and see on stage some day. The theater world is very small here, so finding people to network with has proved easier than I thought it would be.  This whole waiting thing has been all fine and dandy until recently. Yesterday recently.  I had a great coffee with a coworker of Vanessa Hofer who gave me excellent advice on starting out in the Chicago theater scene.  Oh, there's that familiar itch. So now I have turned my sights once again to that wonderfully terrible career of mine: theater.

Now before I delve into some wonderful Anna Deveare Smith again, I should tell a bit of what I've been up to since I moved.  As I said, I got a dream job at "The Spice House" which is a wonderful artisan spice shop in Old Town that sells bulk spices to restaurants, cooks, novices, and rich people who need to fill their huge kitchens somehow.  Its the type of job that keeps me moving and on my feet all day (no office job-thank goodness!), as well as falling in line with my hobbies.  I have always loved to cook and working at this small shop lets me give cooking advice to some really wonderful people.  I am probably the most inexperienced employee there, as most have been employed in a kitchen and been to culinary school.  So I try hard to make up for it with oodles of charm.  I'm sure my facade does not go unnoticed however. Charisma is powdered sugar: looks harmless but its actually a huge sticky mess.

And onto Job #2. Well. not really anymore.  A few weeks ago I was called by a ballroom dance studio that I had applied to be a desk manager at.  They wanted me to come in to interview for a dance instructor position.  I went. And for the past few weeks I have been taking lessons to become a professional Ballroom instructor and compete in local and national competitions.  Talk about feeling under qualified!  But the instructors there were great and I learned very quickly which gave me a bit of confidence. I have just recently decided not to take it, however,  as it seems like a huge jump into a completely different vocation than what I really want.  It was a hard one though: better pay, dance job, travel, better pay, did I mention the pay was a lot better?  But in the end, I know I need to keep the faith and push forward to what I really want in life: to experience people in the world of theater. Its hard to see now if its a sacrifice, or just something that was inevitable.

I'm finding that my attention and love for novelty has run rampant in the city.  I decided I needed to pick up ADS' book again (letters to a young artist), and of course: she had something for me.  Its a short one, but so timely.

"No doubt about it, more important than the race and the fight is faith.  Whatever that means, spiritual or otherwise.  It's crucial to keep the faith.  Never stop believing.  
Faith requires discipline and a lot of imagination."
-ADS

Faith and imagination are paradoxical.  Faith in the city of huge amounts of opportunity is tricky.  I'm talking about two kinds of faith here.  My two main faiths in life: faith in God-the lovely spirit and excruciating joy, and faith in myself-faith I will be humble midst selling my art and (hopefully) landing roles.  Faith means making decisions based on belief.  Never before in my life have I had to make more potentially life-altering decisions than right now.  Which is frightening, yet very exciting.  Faith means potential.  And inversely Faith is kinetic.

The next week I am striving for more purposefully faith-driven choices, using discipline and imagination: the result of which is - I think - discernment.

There. I hope that made up for the months of negligence.

A Working Actor...

Can you call yourself an actor if you are not a 'working actor'?

Definitely been in my thoughts this past month.  Thank you to a very timely post by my good friend, Erin O'Connor.  Please read cause she brings up some great points.

http://erinannoconnor.wordpress.com/2013/09/04/can-you-call-yourself-an-actor-if-you-are-not-a-working-actor/

A few short musings of my own (this part is a little bit 'dear diary' so skip it if you're not in the mood for directionless banter):

We define who we are.  We supply the definition that people will translate to create an image/description to understand our character.   Telling others, "I am an actor" opens up a realm of assumptions, hypotheses, judgments, connections etc.  So when we are describing to others who we are I think their is some inevitable:  if you loathe your job, love your spouse, or think your children smell bad. Our desire for connection with people will require us to tell who we are through a mirror.

Or will it?

I am an actor.  I currently have no gigs, I have no 'name' in Chicago, I have no real prospects for future employment with a theater, heck I am a nobody here!  But I am still an actor.  I am enabled by the passion I have for storytelling through a different person.

So I haven't gotten anywhere close to a 'catharsis' with this post, but I'm realizing this is going to be an ongoing topic for me in the next years.  I'd love to hear any advice/stories/wisdom from anyone on this.  Erin's got a great blog here, but I think there is a little more to it.  I just don't know what it is yet.

Thank you Erin for letting me steal this.  Even though you didn't know I stole it.

Musical Joys

We opened the last show of the season this past week.  Once again, the summer seems to just fly by without my noticing.  

'Next to Normal' went up to a very small audience (which was too bad), but is a great show.  Finely written, great fun to play, and some good themes.  I have been cast as the husband of Diana (woman diagnosed with bipolar/depression) and it has been a great role for me to delve into and discover the intricacies of yet another great person. 

Despite the difficulty of playing someone older, I think I have relatively succeeded in making it believable.  And after desperately trying to figure out how to look the part, I realized that being 'old' is not about calculating the number of wrinkles or how difficult it is to walk, but rather the experiences that a growing age demands you to carry. 

This show is vocally exhausting, and I have a pretty ripped up throat right now from sickness or singing. One of the two. So I am on a nice little vocal rest and frequenting the water bottle for the weekend.

Clowning around

So here it is, about a week after we were cast and hand out the scripts to “Black Comedy” and we’re about to jump into tech rehearsals.  And like I thought would happen, I have started to enjoy rehearsals after memorization was finished.  Today I played. Played the play.  Welcome to the world of theater folks: where actors don’t work-they play.

Shall I say it?

I love my job.

I’ll bring back Anna Devere Smith and her book ‘letters to a young artist’ that I often look to for wisdom of this work that I call play:

“As an artist, I see myself as one of the clowns, one of the fools, one of those who see the world upside down and inside out.  I am a fool in the classic sense.  But I take my foolishness very seriously.” (pg 185)

Not only does this excerpt highlight the importance of sensible silliness, but it also shows the responsibility of the clown.  Or rather the need for responsibility of the foolishness.  My foolishness is my work.  What happens when we don’t take what we do seriously?  Whether it is washing windows on the Sears Tower, or teaching preschool; not taking your work seriously could be fatal.

So here I am: taking the ‘play’ serious.  And finding what my responsibility is as a clown.

Oh right.

We started rehearsals for Schaffer's "Black Comedy" on Thursday.  Since then it has been a mad rush of memorizing ridiculous amounts of text.

Oh right.

This again.

The show weighs heavily on physical comedy, so I am desperately trying to get off book as soon as possible (as always?).  I keep telling myself that as soon as I'm memorized I will be having the time of my life.

Sometimes I think my passions don't stem from what make me happy, but rather what I forget makes me frustrated.

The first few days...

Well, here it is.  Almost a year later and I’m only now posting something.  Quick update on this past year:

After leaving Red Barn in August, I immediately started working on choreographing Goshen College’s “Urinetown” for the production in November of 2012.  I both performed and choreographed the show which was immensely difficult but also very rewarding.

In May I was part of the new Goshen start-up theater company, GoShakes’ inaugural production of “Romeo and Juliet.” This was also a challenging experience as I balanced work and two roles in the production (Mercutio and Paris).  A great show that pushed me in a way I haven’t been pushed for a while.

And now, after stressing over what I should do in the summer of 2013, I am back at Red Barn Summer Theater.  I have joined the company halfway through the season as a sort of filler before I move to Chicago.  It seemed like the best possible choice for me, so I went with it.  I will be starting rehearsals for “Black Comedy” this coming Thursday, and then “Next to Normal” in a few weeks. 

I am getting antsy to be back onstage, even though it has only been a month or so.  When I am not involved in a production I daydream about being in one. It is because of this that I know I am doing the right thing for me at this time. 

God give me wisdom to think of the now rather than confusions about the future.