NO ONE SHOULD BE SURPRISED ABOUT DAVID MAMET AND HIS HYPOCRISY

 

The Cover of Mamet's new collection of rambling essays, perhaps better titled "Get Off My Lawn!"

David Mamet, who I have long thought became a parody of himself in terms of his work, is now proving to be a parody of a human being with any kind of rational or sane thought. While promoting his new book of old essays, he made comments accusing teachers of being prone to pedophilia (especially male teachers), all in a discussion ultimately geared toward encouraging the "Don't Say Gay" bill (so much for the Free Speech in his book's title). While these comments are indeed flabbergasting and upsetting, I don't really think anyone should be surprised that Mamet made them, nor should they be surprised that he made them with ABSOLUTELY NOTHING in terms of facts to back them up. One should almost have expected it considering that Mamet, since becoming a relic of a playwright, has spent the last 25 years of his career working hard at being a contrarian, who I'm sure would prefer the terms "iconoclast" or "rebel," a blowhard hoping that there is some connection between notoriety and relevance. Sadly, though, the very aspects of Mamet that enables him to shamelessly make such idiotic comments, were given to him by the theater critics and audiences over the years, the ones who built him up and confused much of is bluster with "bravery" and "genius". I am not blameless in this myself. 

It would be a lie if I said I was never a Mamet fan. Like many playwrights (particularly, but not exclusively male) of my generation, I grew up hearing he was the best. The movie adaptation of his play "Glengarry Glen Ross" was electrifying with James Foley's slick direction and a handful of truly wonderful and wonderfully energetic performances by some great actors. I remember buying copies of his plays "Sexual Perversity in Chicago/The Duck Variations" and "Oleanna", and trying to break them down. His Pulitzer-winning "American Buffalo" is perhaps the first example of Mamet being called a master of dialogue, a poet using four-letter words. And indeed, there is no question he has made an impact on American Theatre in a big way--- but it hasn't all been good. In fact, I would say it is arguable that "Glengarry Glen Ross" is his last good play, and that was in 1984.  "Oleanna," though immensely popular for college scene work, is a play that doesn't come from character but from theme. In fact, I would say that the playwright's intentions are like a big fingerprint all over that script, making it more of a diatribe than a play. By the end, both characters feel more like husks that are being moved around. As for plays like "Race"--- well, who really needs another rich white guy talking about how complicated race is, except when seen through his own white lens? 

Mamet has always had a problem with education. His book, "True and False", encourages young actors to not go to college, and his own daughter, actress Zosia Mamet, told Conan O'Brien during an interview that her father encouraged her not to pursue higher education. Much of what Mamet describes as being the job of an actor in "True and False" is to learn their lines and to say them "courageously". He wrote the slim volume in the height of "Look at me! I'm slaughtering sacred cows!" days. And certainly, the silliness of some method acting needs to be taken down more than single peg, and one can't help but argue that was part of Mamet's intentions with the book. Though one should also remember that Mamet himself went to Goddard College, and also studied under famed acting teacher Sanford Meisner--- he is interviewed for a Meisner documentary and blurbs Meisner's acting book--- and said he was one of the great teachers who was telling the truth. One should also remember that "The Practical Handbook for the Actor" (which I bought when I was in high school and highlighted extensively) was written by STUDENTS of David Mamet and his frequent collaborators William H. Macy and Gregory Mosher. Mamet himself wrote the introduction, calling it the "best book on acting written in the last twenty years"---- this, of course, was before "True and False" came out. The Atlantic Theater Company, founded by Mamet, Macy and their ACTING STUDENTS, still teaches classes based Mamet's thoughts on what actors should know. 

So much for a generation of actors who should stay out of school. 

And one must wonder how someone who has spent a good deal of time teaching can make statements about male teachers being especially predatory. I certainly couldn't accuse Mamet of being predatory himself, though he seems to have no problem generalizing about the predatory nature of teachers for an interview on Fox News. 

Still, he has reason to believe that the verbiage he spews on any topic that crosses his mind is sacred, because so many are quick to call him a genius. He used to get off on it when it came from Hollywood liberals, but, after he very publicly rebranded himself as ultra-Conservative (in typical blustery fashion, saying he was no longer a "Braindead liberal"), he is happy to take the label wherever he can get it. This is why he can call Trump a "great President" and even talk about how the election was stolen--- even though, in a rare moment of walking back, he said he "misspoke".  He has propped up by many to be one of the sacred cows he used to enjoy slaughtering so much. One could reasonably guess he prefers actors without training because they make better puppets. One may suggest that he thinks his dialogue, in which people hardly speak in full sentences but are cut off by dashes and ellipses, is realistic because he likely prefers to be the only one talking and not letting anyone else sneak a thought in a conversation. 

If Mamet possessed any self-doubt instead of his brash, encouraged narcissism, he might be mortified by how ignorant and absurd his recent statements about teachers came off. Unfortunately, I've no doubt that his ego is steering him to view the justifiable backlash as "cancel culture", probably going so far as to smugly think how it proves his point. And this is the same narcissism that destroyed his work long before it hindered his reputation. It doesn't seem like coincidence that Mamet stopped being a "Braindead liberal" as soon as he was completely affluent and celebrated by New York critics as being "the greatest living American playwright," a title which, even when I was a fan, I never thought was true. 

When it comes right down to it, David Mamet is just another hypocrite with too large a platform, an overpraised rich white dude, who believes that what "free speech" means for him (and other overpraised rich white dues) is to never be criticized or ostracized for the "brilliant" things he says, no matter whether they are true or not. Cancel culture only exists when it is directed to people of his ilk. Mr. Mamet wants the rest of the world to be cut off by his dashes and ellipses--- because it really only matters if his speech is free of opposing opinions. 

30 PLAYS IN 30 DAYS: Play #9 "Brilliant Traces" by Cindy Lou Johnson

 

I have decided for the month of September to read 30 plays in 30 days. It is my belief that, if possible, a play should be read in one sitting to get a better inherent sense of the dramatic arc. Each day, I will write a short post here about the play of the day.

Play #9

Brilliant Traces by Cindy Lou Johnson

As reported by the New York Times, Cindy Lou Johnson was looking for a title for her play, found it from a poem by her mother, Avah Pevlor Johnson. The poem, Individuation was printed in the original playbill and is printed in the acting edition, and contains the lines: "Let me dance with devils on dead stars. Let my scars leave brilliant traces"... and hence, we have the lovely title Brilliant Traces for this 2-person play. 

It was first presented by the Circle Repertory Company at the Cherry Lane Theatre in NYC in February of 1989, starring Kevin Anderson (perhaps best known as the good guy opposite Julia Roberts in Sleeping With the Enemy) and Joan Cusack (who really needs no introduction at all--- she's simply awesome). 

Brilliant Traces starts with an arresting opening image of a woman (Rosannah Deluce) in a wedding dress, coming into a small barn in the middle of nowhere Alaska, from a snowstorm. She mentions she has been driving for days until her car died, and she's been walking for over an hour in the cold--- she manages to get this brief explanation before fainting. The owner of the house, Henry Harry, who moved to nowhere to get away from the world to become a "gray man", gently places her in a bed, and waits for her to wake up. Once she does, the action of the play takes place in a 70-80 minute burst where the characters struggle (sometimes physically and violently) to connect. And while sometimes Rosannah comes off as the prototype for the "manic pixie dreamgirl" before such a trope existed, and Henry Harry often comes off as the "tortured, quiet recluse with a past", one cannot deny that Johnson gives each character vibrant words and energy.  Indeed, for quite sometime, Brilliant Traces provided rich two-minute monologues for young women particularly auditioning for theater schools. I confess, I found some the situations a bit too quirky, but it is hard not to fall under the spell of the characters. As I have stated before, energy is very important, and in a quick show like this, I think you would be hard-pressed to not be taken in by it in production if it is cast well with terrific performers (as it sounds like it was for its premiere). 

I have not been able to find a great deal of information on Cindy Lou Johnson, only enough to know that she has also written for television, and wrote and directed a film called Claude. Brilliant Traces was adapted into a Canadian TV movie in 1998, adapted into French. I did find a video from 1989-1990 from the American Theatre Wing, where she was on a panel with other cool theater artists, including Wendy Wasserstein. On this panel, she talks about having written fiction for years, but that the characters in Brilliant Traces wanted to perform. She describes the process of developing the play at the Eugene O'Neill Conference as a complete education in the craft of writing plays, and understanding how play productions actually work, as she had no real idea previously. She has fond memories of the wonderful playwrights who were of great support and gave her sense of structure. 

I would never argue that Brilliant Traces is a great play, but I think it is a good one, and, again, it is alive, and comes from a distinct voice with something to say about suffering, pain and seeking understanding and connection. This is not small feat, and give the Cindy Lou Johnson tremendous credit for this being her first play-- it is almost unbelievable, in fact, to have a debut so accomplished in character, with a great showcase for two actors to really shine. 

A Look at "WHO AM I THIS TIME?" by Kurt Vonnegut: Actors Can Be Shy

 

Still Picture from American Playhouse's production of "Who Am I This Time?"

When I was teaching an Introduction to Theater class at Foxcroft Academy, I had my students read Kurt Vonnegut's short story, "Who Am I This Time?," about a shy community theater actor named Harry Nash who seems to only come to life or, indeed, have any personality at all, when he is acting on stage. He knows how to be Cyrano, knows how to be Stanley Kowalski, knows how to be any character you throw at him, but he has no idea how to talk or relate to people as Harry Nash. While I know many people (mistakenly) think of Mr. Vonnegut as a sci-fi writer, or maybe a funny social critic, this story is neither of those things. In fact, it is a sweet gentle tale about community theater, which ultimately becomes a love  story:  Helene Shaw, on an assignment for her job, is cast in a play with Harry, and learns how to break through his shyness, using dialogue from plays to woo him. 

The story was published in 1961 by the Saturday Evening Post (back when, as Vonnegut used to say, a writer could actually make a living writing short stories), and is now widely available in Vonnegut's classic short story collection Welcome To the Monkey House. Though I find the story timeless, full of heart and humor and just plain goodwill, many students found it boring (probably didn't read it, if I am being honest), or at the very least, didn't relate to it. But then there were always a few who did.

The shy ones. They got it. Just like I did. 

I was actually introduced to the story by way of the short film that was adapted from it for the gone and still lamented American Playhouse. This short film is a very faithful adaptation of the short story, directed by the late Oscar-winning  Jonathan Demme (when he was still early, of course), and starring Oscar-winning actors Christopher Walken as Harry and Susan Sarandon as Helene. I suppose I could have shown this movie in class instead of making them read the short story, though I still think it might have only really hit home with the shy ones like me. And having been made in 1982 with almost non-existent production values,  I do wonder how it would have been received--- though the performances from the two leads are outstanding, and it is a funny story if you can let yourself bet taken in by it. 

My first year drama coach in high school was Tom Lyford, and he gave me the movie to watch to observe how Walken cried out "Stella!" as Harry was rehearsing for A Streetcar Named Desire. Well, this is why he told me he was lending me the movie. I think there was more to it. I think he recognized a shy, introverted young man, who seemed to only really come alive on stage. 

I have always been shy. I mean, I am good with a small group of close friends, and, these days I can flip the "ON" switch an be entertaining around groups of people. But it is so very exhausting. 

But being in character on stage has always been invigorating. Expressing myself through different characters has always felt natural. 

I was accepted into Boston University's School for the Arts, but when I got there, I had such a hard time talking to people. I was more shy there than I had ever been in my life. I wanted to talk to people, but I just didn't know how. I remember a king young woman in my group asking, "Have you ever seen the movie 'Who Am I This Time?'" I told her yes. She said, "I thought you probably had. I bet you have a whole lot going inside."

She was right. 

I have learned through the years that it is not uncommon for actors to be introverts--- quite the contrary. It is called escapism for a reason. 

I know that many of the students in my Intro to Theater class were put in there by the guidance counselor because they needed an arts elective. But I was always happy to see one of the shy ones start to shine in the classroom scenes, and learn how to express themselves, using theater as a tool.

And I like to think that Mr. Vonnegut's Who Am I This Time? helped with their journey. I know it did mine. 

A History of the Play "Mid-Summer" by Viña Delmar: How Vaudeville Lies at the Center of this Nostalgia Piece

 

BACKSTORY WITH BOBBY KENISTON

Note:  This was originally written for Lakewood Theater's production of Mid-Summer

Mid-Summer, tonight's entertainment, was one of only 3 plays Viña Delmar wrote, but don't let that fool you--- she was a very prolific writer for nearly fifty years, rising to fame in the late 1920s with her then provocatively titled novel Bad Girl, and went on to receive an Academy Award nomination for the screenplay of The Awful Truth in 1937. Mid-Summer, premiering in 1953, was a love letter of sorts to vaudeville, and featured a young Geraldine Page in her Broadway debut. Speaking of auspicious debuts, I am happy to report that this production marks the Lakewood directorial debut of (among many other titles) my good friend, Arturo Meneses, who was good enough to talk with me about the play, about vaudeville, and about his love of Lakewood Theater.

“It really is like home,” he told me, a sentiment to which I, and many others, can certainly relate.

Audiences have been enjoying Art's work for quite some time. He made his acting debut while still a teenager in 1997 in the musical Jungle Queen Debutante, and played a memorableHarvey Johnson in Bye, Bye, Birdie. I first acted with him a few years ago in Incorruptible, andaudiences cheered his performances in The Legend of Georgia McBride and Godspell. On topof his work as an actor and director, Art has been spending some time this summer organizingthe Lakewood archives, sifting through old memories of friends made throughout the years.

Art found his summer home after working with Mark Nadeau at Messalonskee High School,who encouraged him to audition, and also cites the late Jeffrey Watts as a mentor and influence. He first pursued his interest in directing at the University of Maine at Farmington, taking the helm of such productions as Pillow Talk and Medea (the hilarious Christopher Durang comedy). He really cut his teeth by directing his very own production of Bye, Bye Birdie at the Hsinchu International School in Taiwan with a group of young people who had never acted before!

“They all auditioned very well,” he said with a shrug. “But then didn't know how to act as soon as they were cast in the play.”

A self-proclaimed “Actor's Director,” Art has certainly made an impression on the cast of Mid-Summer. “He really takes the time to ask us questions, encouraging us to find our motivation,”

Kaelie Merrill, the talented young actress who plays Lily, the Geraldine Page role, told me. “He really wants us to think about our characters and how we connect to them. This experience has taught me how I can grow as a person just by putting myself in her [Lily's] shoes.”

Art has delved into the world of vaudeville, and read the delightfully titled No Applause- JustThrow Money, a history of vaudeville by Trav S.D. When I asked him how we make an older art form like vaudeville accessible to audiences today, he said, “The issues we go through today are the same ones people went through back then. The situations will always be relevant.”

Kaelie agrees, and adds, “I think vaudeville is fascinating... They could say things that we can't say!”

Though the brilliant Viña Delmar is no longer with us, and, sadly, vaudeville itself has faded away, we are all fortunate to experience a kind of time travel tonight, thanks to the hard work of Arturo and the talented cast and crew. So prepare to be transported to the Lenoir Hotel in New York City in the year 1907, as we enjoy Mid-Summer during our very own glorious mid-summer here at Lakewood Theater.

If you are interested in producing Mid-Summer, you can find it at Concord Theatricals by following this link:

Mid-Summer (Delmar) | Concord Theatricals

Bad Morning: Bobby Keniston Talks More About Rejection

Greetings, and welcome to Theater is a Sport.  I am your host, Bobby Keniston, and I keep this little part of the internet to write about theater.  As always, feel free to comment below if you agree with me, or think I'm full of poo.

Today's post is a bit more personal than usual--- I tend to like to act like an instructor of sorts, give out tips and advice, but, today, well, I've had the wind knocked out of my sails for a little bit.  I'll be fine, of course, I'm used to it, but, for the moment, I'd rather just write and see what happens.

I've talked about rejection before, but it bears repeating for anyone who is interested in pursuing theater, acting, and writing as a livelihood, or even just as a hobby.  You are going to face a great deal of rejection, and you have to learn to deal with that and not let it knock you all over the place.  At least, don't let it knock you all over the place for too long.

So this morning, I check my email, and, lo and behold, there is a nice rejection note from a nice company for a play I recently submitted.  It is a company I have other plays published with, and a good relationship with--- I like them a whole lot, love how they handle my plays, and am grateful for the work they do getting my plays productions all around the country.  I like the company so much, I gave them an exclusive first look at this new play, when, usually, I submit to a few companies at the same time.

Okay, so I should be used to rejection by now, shouldn't I?  I've been in the business long enough, and have certainly been rejected plenty of times.  Yet this rejection has hit me harder than many others, and I am trying to figure out why.

You see, usually, the second I get a rejection notice, the first thing I do is submit the play to another company.  It's good for the soul.  So I did that very thing this morning.  I went to another company I love, who have an online submission form.  I uploaded the play, filled in all the information, revised my synopsis to make sure it was as good as could be, spent a good half hour making sure everything was as it should be, and when I pressed the button to submit, and error occurred, telling me to try again later.  So, I don't really have that feeling of satisfaction yet, the feeling of moving on and trying again after my rejection.  I'm not going to let a computer error keep me from submitting to this second company, of course, but I just can't fill it all out again at this moment.  I don't have the energy.

So here I am, thinking about my rejection.

It's natural, and, indeed okay to feel bad about being rejected.  In fact, it's not easy to feel good about it.  It's all right to think, but not to wallow, and so, hopefully, this blog post will help me move things in the right direction.

So why is this one bothering me so much?  Here are some thoughts:

1.  I haven't had a play rejected in a while.  My submission numbers have been down this year, and every play I have submitted has been accepted.

2.  I really thought this company was going to accept this play.  Which, I guess goes to show, you shouldn't be overconfident about such things.  I just thought this particular company would think itself a good home for this particular script.  Alas, that is not my decision to make, and, nor should it be.  This is a fine company that knows what it is doing, and, if they don't think they can sell this particular script, then they made the right decision.  Again, their rejection letter was kind, and very mindful of the fact that I am currently one of their writers.  I shouldn't have assumed they would like this one as much as some of the others I have with them already.  (Of course, it's not necessarily a matter of "liking" the script, but whether they feel its right for their catalog--- two very different things)

3.  Many of the plays I write are accepted without a prior production, so I've never really seen them on their feet.  This show, however, I produced with my hometown theater as part of an evening of one acts.  I directed the play, had a great cast, and I saw fist hand how well audiences responded to the play.  So much laughter and cheering!  People loved it!  I've never had such positive feedback for a play I've written and directed!  And my hometown doesn't necessarily get excited about theater all that often.  I know the script is easy to produce, has witty dialogue, but is also poignant--- I've heard the laughs and seen the other emotional impacts of it--- so, I guess, what I'm saying is, I know that the play PLAYS and PLAYS WELL.

4.  Because it was so successful in production, perhaps I was riding high on the script as a surefire win.  It's easy to do so when you see how much an audience loves it.  It's like you've got proof that it should be a "hit", because your individual production was a hit.  But the page and the stage are two different things.

So, yeah, I'll get over this, and fairly quickly, but I am going to allow myself to feel upset about it for a while.

Perhaps that will make it all the more sweeter when the script does find a home.


To Learn More about my published plays, CLICK HERE, OR HERE, OR HERE, OR HERE!

I've started a new blog where I am writing a short story every day for a whole year!  Each story will be between 100-250 words.  Please check it out!  (I've had too much rejection for one day).  
CLICK HERE to read my new blog!

What To Do When You Have a Bad Performance

Greetings ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Theater is a Sport.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and this is my little place on the internet where I talk about (or, really, write about) theater.  Why? Well, because I love it.

I'm a big Red Sox fan, but a few nights ago, they were pounded by the Orioles in a big way. Last night, however, they fought back against Toronto and wound up winning the game.

What does this have to do with theater, you might ask?  I'll tell you.  There's a reason I call this blog "Theater is a Sport", and it's because I believe that theater is a sport.

And, like baseball, or any other sport, an actor, or an entire cast, can have off nights.

Lord knows I've had them.  Whether you keep tripping over your lines, or staying in your head, anticipating blocking, or tripping over the set, some nights just feel like a disaster to an actor.  Please believe me when I tell you that this happens to everyone.

The first thing to do, if you feel like your having a bad performance, is to try to get out of your head, and salvage the rest of the night.  Take intermission to try to relax and re-focus.  Accept that you screwed up in the first act, and realize that you can still knock 'em dead in Act Two.  A bad performance is all mental, meaning, all thought.  Get those thoughts out of your brain.

Now, if you can't salvage the performance for yourself, and you reach the end of the show feeling as miserable as you did all the way through, accept it and move on.  For one thing, it probably didn't come off as badly as you might think.  And please, please, if you had friends or family in the audience, and they talk to you after the show, complimenting you on what a great job you did, just smile and say "Thank you so much!"  I know it's hard.  You'll want to say, "I felt so off tonight!  This was my worst performance ever!  I was so much better in rehearsal!"  Don't do it.  For one thing, it's rude.  It's telling your loved ones that they don't know a good performance from a bad one, and that's not very nice now, is it?  And, like I said before, everything you were going through in your own mind was probably not as visible to the audience as you think it was.

Don't let one bad performance ruin a run.  In the school or community theater, you probably have somewhere between 3 and 6 performances for a production (maybe more, but we're not talking month or yearlong runs, here).  The more you focus on a bad performance, the more you open yourself up to repeat them.  If, in fact, there is a section of the play that is repeatedly bad or feels under-rehearsed, by all means, talk to the director and others involved about working towards cleaning up that scene or section.  It's okay to want to keep growing and getting better, even if you're a few performances in.  In fact, that should be the goal.  To keep getting better and better and more comfortable with the material.  But, let's say you had a random incident where you blew a line you had never missed before.  Don't obsess about it.  That's like asking to mess up again.

Above all else, remember that theater is an imperfect medium, which is why it is so magical. Mistakes happen when you're performing live.  Embrace it, accept it, and keep moving forward to the elusive goal of perfection, which you're not going to reach.  It's the journey that matters.  It's the dancing on the head of a pin, the experiment of creating something with a group of people that matters the most.

Just keep your eye on the ball, and everything will be okay.

On Saying Goodbye to Your Character and Your Play Family

Greetings, and welcome to Theater is a Sport, my own little place on the internet to talk about all things theatrical.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I'm a playwright, an actor, and a director.  I'm also an all-around theater geek, and proud of it.

Recently, a production of The Jungle Book I directed for the Center Theatre, my hometown theater, came to an end.  It has me thinking about when a show ends, and that feeling of letdown that we in the theater experience when saying goodbye to a character and cast of people who have become your family.  So, that's what I'm going to talk about today.

First, I'd like to share this quote from Daniel Day-Lewis, arguably one of, if not the best film actor of the last thirty years or so, about disengaging from a character:

"There's a terrible sadness. The last day of shooting is surreal. Your mind, your body, your spirit are not in any way prepared to accept that this experience is coming to an end. In the months that follow the finish of a film, you feel profound emptiness. You've devoted so much of your time to unleashing, in an unconscious way, some sort of spiritual turmoil, and even if it's uncomfortable, no part of you wishes to leave that character behind. The sense of bereavement is such that it can take years before you can put it to rest."

Now, perhaps we don't all  invest as much of ourselves when we do a play for the community theater or a school show, but, to be honest, I do, and I think Mr. Day-Lewis has described the feeling in the best way I've ever heard it described.

When you are putting on a play, there are weeks of rehearsal, often with people you may not know, or, other times, with a gang of actors you've performed with many times before.  As days go by, you learn to depend on one another, trust one another, complain about one another, praise one another, and, yes, love each other.  You may not always like all of your cast mates, but I do think you grow an indescribable bond with each of them.  After all, you are a group of people who have come together with the purpose of creating.  The act of creation is a powerful one, not to be taken lightly.  For weeks, you have sacrificed time to focus your energy with this group of people.  You have been pretending to be someone else to tell a story.  You have thought what it would be like this character, and, to some extent, whether you are a method actor or not, you have been doing your best to become this character, if only for a few hours a night, for the sake of the audience.  You invest feelings and actions that come from you, explore "as ifs" that get you thinking about your own life on this planet.  

It ain't easy to just shake off.  At least, it's not for everyone.  It's absolutely fine if you are a person who can shake it off--- in fact, you may be one of the lucky ones.  

For those who are more like me, folks who feel a terrible loss after a show closes, here's a few tips I have found helpful...

--- SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR CHARACTER:  Start a personal ritual of how you can say goodbye to a character.  Don't be concerned if it would appear silly to others or not.  It doesn't matter.  It's not for other people, it's for you and your character.  How you say goodbye is a private matter.  

---ALLOW YOURSELF TO GRIEVE AND "MISS IT":  There's not shame in missing a play.  There's no shame in wishing you were still up on that stage, giving your lines, playing your actions... it's an exhilarating and joyful experience.  You've made new friends, possibly lifelong friends.  It's okay to miss spending this time creating with them.

--- GET SOME REST:  You deserve it.  Take it easy for a few days.  Pamper yourself as much as you can.  

--- JUMP INTO A NEW CREATIVE ENDEAVOR:  I have found this to be very helpful.  Try out for another play!  Write some poetry or a short story!  Bake!  Knit!  Sing!  Anything that feels creative and lovely to you.  

And most of all, remember--- these moments in time you shared with your cast and the audiences who watched you, this shared experience lasts forever.  Energy lasts forever, so do these moments.  

And chances are, if you live in a small community, you're going to be acting with these people again sooner than you think.  

Please feel free to comment below with your tips on saying goodbye to a show or character! 

My Two Proudest Moments as Director of "The Jungle Book"

Some of the Cast of "The Jungle Book" at the Center Theatre in Dover-Foxcroft, ME

Greetings all, and welcome to Theater is a Sport, my little place on the internet to talk about all things theater.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and you can find me here pretty much five days a week (Monday-Friday).  Why?  Well, because I love theater.

Since early February, I have been honored to be the director of "The Jungle Book" at the Center Theatre, right here in my home town of Dover-Foxcroft.  Every spring, the theater does an all-youth cast show, and, happily, I applied for the job to direct and was hired.

It's been a lot of work.  The cast is comprised of kids between the ages of 3 and 17.  Obviously, that's quite a big range!  It's been a challenge for me to find different ways to communicate with different cast members, and making myself understood by everyone.  There have been times when the process has tested my patience (I"m proud to say that I passed), and, of course, many other moments where it has given me great joy.  

I want to tell you about my two proudest moments as the director of "The Jungle Book".  And, the reason they are my two proudest moments, is because I had nothing to do with them.

Of course, as a director, I try to make sure the kids are prepared for anything.  But that's not always possible....

Last Sunday, during our matinee performance, all was going well.  In fact, it was my favorite of the three performances to date.  We were near the end of Act One, everything was smooth sailing, and I was watching the show from the back of the auditorium (in the shadows), and really enjoying it.  And then, the power went out.  

Black stage, during a big group scene with almost every character present on stage.  

To be honest, I expected within seconds for them to be worried, maybe even panicked, which I would have understood.  I expected some shouting out, some "What do we do?", or maybe a mass attempt to clear the stage, which, in the pitch black, could have been dangerous.  

But they stayed right there on stage.  I walked down to the foot of the stage, as did the stage manager, and whispered that they were doing a great job, and to just stay in place, and, when the lights came back on, to just keep going.

Fortunately, the lights came back on relatively quickly.  And the moment they did, BAM!, as if there were NO INTERRUPTION AT ALL, they kept going.  They picked it right back up with the same energy and focus as if they and the audience had not just been in the dark for a few minutes.  They didn't miss a beat.  

My second proudest moment was yesterday, when we spent the day performing for school children. The kids had FOUR (!) performances of the show yesterday for surrounding area schools.  Talk about a long day!  

Midway through the third play, something went wrong.  A character who was supposed to be onstage, didn't come on stage.  I figured they had just missed their entrance, but would run on.  The cast members onstage started improvising and ad-libbing, keeping the scene going,  I headed backstage to find there had been a bit of a costume mishap.  And all this while, the kids onstage kept going and going and going.  Without looking panicked, without breaking character, without freaking out.  They didn't give up.  They kept acting and improvising their hearts out, as if nothing in the least bit was out of place.  I'm telling you, I have never seen adults work to cover a scene so well!  It blew my mind.  

"Where did they learn how to do that?," I asked myself.

And then, when the mishap was sorted out, the actor went onstage, proud and confident as though nothing had been wrong.  Amazing. 

The thing is, I can't take the credit for it.  

And that is why it makes me very proud.

For those in the Dover-Foxcroft area, the final 3 performances of "The Jungle Book" are Friday, April 17th at 7 PM, and Saturday April 18th at 2 PM and 7 PM, at the Center Theatre.  You really should come check it out!

RESPECT for the STAGE

The Center Theatre, Dover-Foxcroft, ME

Greetings, and welcome to Theater is a Sport, my own little place on the internet to talk about theater. My name is Bobby Keniston, and I'm an actor, writer, director, and all-around theater geek (and proud of it).

Today, I want to talk a little bit about "the stage".  Some are fancier than others, some are bigger than others, some higher off the auditorium level, and, of course, some theatrical performances are not even held on a stage.  Yet, however grand or humble your space may be, there is something important to respect about it:

IT'S WHERE THE STORY IS TOLD.

Up or down there, on your stage, or in your performing space, is a separate place from the auditorium or "house", whether your play breaks the fourth wall or not.  It is where the lights hit the actors and the actors tell the story.  In the wing, actors wait to come out as characters.

I guess what I'm trying to say, at the risk of sounding a bit silly or cliche, this space, this stage, is where the magic happens.  It is the focal point for the spectators to become one with the performers, and to be sucked into your story.

Actors must respect their magic space.

And here are some thoughts on how to do that:

1.  GREET YOUR SPACE.  I know this may sound way out there, but an exercise one of my professors in college had a cast do was to walk around the space and say "HI!" to everything we saw. This was also a bit of a vocal warm-up, as we were projecting the word "HI!"  Silly as this may sound, I found that it gave me an appreciation for the stage we were using that I never really had felt before.  It is good to know every little nook and cranny of the area you're performing in.

2.  IMAGINE THE FEET THAT HAVE "TREAD THE BOARDS" BEFORE YOU.  I have mentioned before in this blog that I was fortunate enough to have Lakewood Theater as my summer home growing up.  It is a historic theater in Madison, Maine, and the stage has been acted upon by many a famous person, including Humphrey Bogart, Betty White, John Travolta, Jessica Tandy, Geraldine Page, and Hume Cronyn, just to name a few.  It's a very old theater, and, when I'm performing there, I sometimes like to imagine these people who were there before me, waiting in the wings or in their dressing room, nervous and excited about going out on stage.  Even if the stage you are performing on is younger, and, perhaps without an "illustrious history", it doesn't really matter--- people who have come together to CREATE something have been waiting in the same wings you are now waiting in, or standing in the same spot delivering lines as you are now.

3.  ALWAYS BE IN CHARACTER WHEN YOU'RE ONSTAGE.  This is hard, of course, and all actors do their best, but, whatever you do, don't break the reality of your magic space by waving or winking to an audience member that happens to be your friend in real life.  You'll have plenty of time to talk to them later on, at a pub or a restaurant.  When you're onstage, you're onstage.  You're in a different world.

4.  APPRECIATE THE SPACE EVEN AFTER THE FINAL CURTAIN.  You have just spent a few hours helping to tell a story. You have worked hard to bring the audience into the world you and your fellow cast have created.  You have created an aesthetic to draw people in to a story.  Now that the show is over, don't just break that completely.  Change out of your costume before going into the house to meet your friends and family, and don't greet them by crossing the stage as if it were just another surface to walk across.  Come down into the house out of the stage doors, not from the stage itself.

I know this may all seem odd, to make such a big deal out of an area where one performs.  But I have found that being on stage, in character, in front of a captivated audience, to give some of the greatest joys and excitements of my life.  The stage has given me this.

The least we can give it in return is respect.

Thanks for reading Theater is a Sport.  If you want to learn more about me, click HERE, or HERE, or HERE .

And, while you're at it, you can check out my other blog, where I am attempting an experiment to write a short short story every day for a year, between 100 and 250 words.  It's an experiment I'm nervous about, but excited for, and really hope I can make it.  You can check out that blog by clicking HERE.

Thanks again, and feel free to comment below with your thoughts on theater in general, or respecting the stage specifically!

OPENING NIGHT

The Marquee

For the last seven weeks or so, my energies have been largely given to directing a production of "The Jungle Book", an adaptation by Vera Morris (one of the many pseudonyms for the prolific Tim Kelly), available through Pioneer.  Tonight is opening night.

I don't know about other directors, but, for me, a rehearsal process can feel like a lifetime, but, no matter what, when we get to opening night, it always seems to have blown by. Opening night really is a night for directors to freak out--- after all, aside from a few last notes and a pep talk, there is absolutely nothing we can do.  

The venue for this production is in my hometown of Dover-Foxcroft, ME, at a lovely place called the Center Theatre.  SOCP, the group attached to the theater that produces plays in-house, is an abbreviation for "Slightly Off-Center Players".  And this production is put on specifically for children performers to be a part of.  No adults in the cast whatsoever (though, one of the teenagers in the group is very close to eighteen).  I have children from the ages of 3-17 in the show, with most being in 9-12 area.  I've never done a play with that had one as young as three (as well as a five year old in the cast, too), and this play has presented new and interesting learning opportunities for me.  

I am, of course, proud of the kiddos hard work throughout this process.  It's not always easy being in a play, sitting still for direction, and focusing energy on the task at hand as opposed to letting fly in all directions.  In a sense, I have watched the play go from chaos, and evolve into the shape of what a play should be.

And here we are at opening night, and there are about a million and a half more things I would like to impart to the cast, but, given the opportunity, probably couldn't think of more than a handful.  Remember not to turn your back to the audience.  Don't block one another in the group scenes.  Don't upstage your fellow actors or yourself.  Keep your hands out of any pockets.  Keep your feet still.  Keep the volume up.  No matter what, STAY IN CHARACTER.  Things I have told them many times already, with varying levels of success, but still want to keep reminding them before an audience sits down to watch them.  

I will give them a pep talk tonight to tell them how proud I am of them, and how if they keep their energy up and believe in themselves and the hard work they've done, then they will soar.  And all of this is true.  And then, they will go backstage, I will be in the auditorium or talking to people in the lobby, or going outside and freaking out a bit.  I'll most likely stand at the back of the auditorium as the play is going on, and try not to pace, because I don't want to distract the kids, and as soon as the lights go up, part of me will have a nervous breakdown.  Not because I don't believe in the kids.  But because I know that there is nothing for me to possibly do any more to help them.  And that's a hard thing to let go of.  

The nervous breakdown will subside in a minute or two, and, before you know it, the show will be over, and I'll be telling the kids what a great job they did, yet warning them not to get over-confident because we still have a lot of performances.  I will look at the other adults on the crew, and I'm sure we'll all smile and say, "They did it," and then, "We did it." 

At every point in a rehearsal process, a director most likely asks themselves, "Why do I put myself through this."  And after tonight, after opening night, that questions is immediately forgotten.

Dress Rehearsal

Greetings ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to theater is a sport.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and this is a little piece of the internet that belongs to me, where I talk about all things theater.

Dress rehearsals are on my mind today, because, well, tonight, I have dress rehearsal for a production of The Jungle Book I have been directing for the last seven weeks or so in my home town of Dover-Foxcroft, Maine, for my home town community theater, The Slightly-Off Center Players.  I have twenty-four kids between the ages of 3 and 17 in the cast, my charges, my students, my actors.  And, after tonight, the show no longer belongs to me--- it belongs to them (and the stage managers, of course).

Dress rehearsals can be painful for a director, and they can be joyous, and they can be stressful, or a huge relief, or all of these feelings and more at once.  It is the last chance for a director to make any major changes through notes.  Theoretically, it is the last time that a director can even stop the rehearsal to make changes if need be...

REALLY TRY NOT TO DO THAT.

I'm going to really try not to stop and make any adjustments tonight.  It's difficult.  There will be moments that my brain is screaming for me to stop, I know this, but my goal is to not do it, to write down whatever I need to say, and maybe run a part after ward if necessary, but to not stop them during the run.

Why?  The cast needs to run the show, and they need to run it in performance mode.  They need a run-through where the safety net isn't so obviously there.  They have to know that, no matter what happens, they must find a way to keep going.

This is particularly tough when you are directing children, believe me.  You have spent all this time being their guide, their teacher, and hopefully a mentor of some sort. It's not easy to watch them up on stage if something goes wrong and they are obviously uncomfortable.  But, hey, it's dress rehearsal.  The time to learn how handle it is now, not when there are over a hundred people in the audience.

When you're a cast member in a play, you might feel a pang of loss when the show reaches its final performance and, alas, you say goodbye to a character.  For a director, the dress rehearsal is kind of like the last night for them.  Certainly I will be there opening night (and, for this show, for every performance), and I will be giving pep talks, and maybe tiny notes for anything glaring that hasn't been fixed, but, essentially once the curtain goes up on opening night, my work is done and over with.  There is nothing more I can do.  Once the show begins in front of an audience, well, I can no longer do anything to help.

And I NEVER go backstage to talk to a cast at intermission.  Well, almost never.

I truly believe that a director has to separate from the show in order to give it wings.  That's why a dress rehearsal is so difficult... you have so much more you want to say, but the time is running out, and, you just have to hope what you do say will sink in, be implemented, and make the show work as best as it can.

As I director, I want a great show.  But I want it to be a great show not for me or my personal glory, but for them.  I want them to be proud of it, feel safe and prepared.  But that will not be up to me tomorrow night when the curtain opens.  Tonight is my last chance, in a three hour rehearsal window, to finish my job up in a way that will help make them shine.

All while not stopping them unless I absolutely have to.

No pressure.

The Joy of Acting

Greetings and welcome to theater is a sport, my own little place on the internet.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and, if you've ever wondered what I look like, see the picture above and add a beard.

Since January, I've been very busy directing.  I directed a play I wrote called Waiting to be Probed:  A Love Story, and I am currently in upweek for a production of The Jungle Book, starring 24 children between the ages of 3 and 17.

I love to direct.  It's a great feeling, corralling a group of people together with the similar aim of creating something.  I love to have a vision realized, and changed and added to by the input of other creators.  I love the responsibility of making stage pictures and moments that will hopefully be found compelling and interesting to watch.

Having said this, I'm getting pretty tired, and I'm looking forward to doing some acting this summer. I have been cast in three productions at my summer home, the historic Lakewood Theater in Madison, ME, and I can't wait to just focus on building my characters, and being responsible in my own little way to help tell the story we are telling.  I have the distinct pleasure of playing E.K. Hornbeck in one of my favorite plays of the last 100 years, Inherit the Wind (easily in my top 20), Mr. Applegate, the devil, in Damn Yankees, and Cookie in the new musical comprised of Gershwin tunes, Nice Work if You Can Get It.  

After spending a good deal of time directing and writing, acting feels almost like a vacation.  Please don't get me wrong--- acting is hard work, and a craft I have the utmost respect for.  What I mean to say is that acting, in comparison to directing, is pure playground.  It's giddy exploration.  You are responsible to yourself and to your scene partners.

You needn't worry about the bigger picture, the grander vision.  Your responsibility as an actor is to bring your character to life, and, in doing so, telling your piece of the story.

I'm often surprised when I see actors worrying about the bigger picture, criticizing a director's choices, things like that.  I get it, of course--- every person on stage and off, has opinions about how things should be.  I suppose I have even been that way in the past.  But, now, for me, at the community theater level, I am simply grateful to act and to not have all the aesthetic choices left up to me.  Certainly, as an actor, I have strong opinions of how my character should look, move, talk, react and behave.  But I have no interest in figuring out the greater problems of how to stage everyone, unless that's the job I've been hired to do.

As a director, particularly as you get closer to performance, you have to be ready for questions constantly, from actors, designers, volunteers, the producer, pretty much everyone.  And when you're working with children, you have to be ready for a great number of those questions to feel like a non sequitur, but still try to answer it as seriously as possible, because, while you may not understand their concern or where it is coming from, it is a genuine concern for them.

It's nice not to have to have the answer to all of those questions for a while, and just focus on yourself, When I got my new scripts, the first thing I did was highlight my lines and read through all of them for the first of what will wind up being many, many times.  Since Inherit the Wind is the first one up, I have already starting learning lines, searching for a character arc, doing research on the real Scopes trial and H.L. Mencken, who my character is loosely based on (or inspired by).  It's the fun kind of homework that comes with breathing life into a character--- analyzing a script, looking for actions, creating a physicality and a rhythm of speaking.  It all feels like play to me, which is a beautiful thing.  I don't need to worry about how the lights are going to create the transition from the courtroom to the town square... not my job, and I'm glad it's not.

I give my all to directing when I'm directing.  I keep so much in my head, that sometimes it feels like it might leak out between my ears.  It's a joy, but a joy that comes with a great deal of pressure.

Acting is a joy with its own pressures, of course, but the pressures are not as far reaching, and the rewards are far more immediate and sometimes quantifiable.  You see, a director's work, when done well, should almost be invisible, where, an actors' work is right there in plain sight for all the audience to see and hear and applaud.

Acting is creation without worry of the budget or how much dough the show rakes in for the theater. Acting is being there, and giving your all for rehearsals and performances, but not for production meetings

Yes, acting is my vacation.  I mean, after all, who wants to sit still and relax during a vacation when you can be creating something?

Thanks for reading my blog.  Feel free to leave comments about your feelings and experiences with acting and directing below.  And if you like my blog, please feel free to follow it!

Until next time...

Understanding Shakespeare

The man himself

Greetings and welcome to Theater is a Sport.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and this blog is my own little piece of the internet to talk about all things theater.

I was troubled the other day when I saw a fairly new edition of a Shakespeare textbook of the play Romeo and Juliet. If you opened it up, on even number pages you found Shakespeare's text.  On the odd, adjacent page, you had Shakespeare's text translated into more colloquial English. At the risk of sounding like an old timer, the Shakespeare editions I approve of are either the Oxford or the Norton's (with an edge to the Norton's).  Yes, this contains footnotes, but it never attempts to "translate" a text that is already written in English! I can't help but think that teaching kids from such a "we've done all the work for you" text will only guarantee that the students will NEVER have an appreciation or an understanding of Shakespeare. To me, this method of teaching makes about as much sense as assigning the Cliff Notes for Great Expectations instead of the novel itself.

Needless to say, this makes me sad. And I'm sure Orwell is somewhere in the Afterlife weeping.

Perhaps this is controversial, and I certainly don't want to offend hard-working English teachers across the country, but, quite frankly, I don't believe high schools, by and large, teach Shakespeare very well.  There is a certain myth of terror when a student approaches Shakespeare--- "I'll never understand it!," and, in my experience, little is done to shatter this myth for students.  And it boils down to this one thing:

SHAKESPEARE IS TAUGHT AS LITERATURE.

This is all well and good, and, indeed, Shakespeare's plays are literature.  The problem arises that Shakespeare is taught in the same way English teachers teach novels that are great literature.  And therein we find the problem.

PLAYS AND NOVELS ARE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT LITERARY MEDIUMS

Yes, these days, I can sit down and read a play by Shakespeare simply for literary enjoyment, because I've been reading his plays for years and have an understanding of them.  I never may have had this understanding, however, if it hadn't been for my high school English teacher Dawn MacPherson Allen.  When we read Shakespeare in her class, she took the class time to have us read them out loud.  And not just a portion of them out loud.  We read them out loud start to finish.

Shakespeare, like all playwrights, wrote his plays to be performed.  His language is meant to pass through an actor's tongue.  It was written to be visual and physical, and, ultimately, provoke feeling from the audience, whether it be laughter or tears.

Analyzing Shakespeare's plays in terms of literary techniques and such is certainly valuable toward an understanding of the text, but, in my humble opinion, the best way to understand Shakespeare's work is to study it as an actor and a director would study it.  Want to get a grasp on Hamlet's "To be or not to be" speech?  Tackle it as an actor would.  How does it relate to me?  How would I act if my father had died, and my mother married my uncle shortly thereafter?  How would I feel if everyone I thought I could trust suddenly seems to be playing me?  What are the big "as ifs" in my own life that help me see what Hamlet is going through?

And then, by the very action of speaking the language (that, yes, is ENGLISH), with a focus on trying to perform it, a student will begin to internalize the language, and the more they practice, the more the language feels like an extension of their own.

No, not every student in an English class is destined to be a great classical actor, but that's no the point.  After all, not every student in an English class is destined to be a great literary scholar, either. The point is to expose Shakespeare's writing to students in the way it was meant to be consumed.  As a play.  Will some students still understand it better than others?  Certainly.  But my guess is that at least more students will be ACTIVELY ENGAGED in figuring him out, instead of letting some watered down text tell them what Shakespeare is trying to say.  AND THIS IS WHAT WE WANT. Students learning to figure out what great works of literature and great works of theater mean to them.

I humbly submit that Shakespeare should not only be taught by English teachers, but by Drama teachers.  I also humbly submit that everyone who wants to be a high school English teacher should be required to take an acting in Shakespeare class for college credit.  (Of course, I think all teachers should have to take an acting class or two anyway, but that's for another blog post.)

Thank you, Mrs. Allen, for teaching me to appreciate Shakespeare by reading him out loud. You've made my world a much richer place because of it.

The Drive to Make it in Show Business

Welcome to the House of Keniston, Where Theater is a Sport

Greetings, and welcome to theater is a sport, my blog where I talk about what's on my mind regarding theater.  It's a good time (I think).  Enjoy your stay.

I've been thinking about "drive" a great deal lately, mainly because I've been talking to some people about what it takes to try to make a living as an actor.  "Drive" is the answer I keep coming up with.

It's interesting:  for those of us who studied acting in college, we learned so much great stuff about craft, technique, keeping our bodies as well-tuned instruments to serve our art.  The business doesn't necessarily care about these things.  It's sad, but acting is a job where, even if you're really, really good at it, there's no guarantee that you'll ever get work.  And if you do, it won't be like your acting class.

And so you need drive.

So what is drive?  I like to think of it as encompassing the following parts:

LOVE,
PASSION,
NEED,
PERSISTENCE,
COURAGE,
RESILIENCE,
FLEXIBILITY,
SELF-ESTEEM,
IMMOVABLE FAITH
ACCEPTANCE

Allow me to explain.

LOVE, is fairly simple. You need to love to act.  If you don't love to act, sing, or dance, or what-have-you, why would you do it?  Countless better ways to earn your daily bread, believe me.

PASSION, which is different from love, is also essential.  Passion is the fire in your belly, the thing that turns you on, gives you the greatest bliss.  And not just for the performance, but for the process. Passion is thing inside of you that shuns the ordinary and desires the little something extra.  Let's be honest--- if you can make a living from acting, that's pretty extraordinary, isn't it?

NEED, I know may sound bad, but I don't mean it that way.  I simply mean that you must feel that reaching your dreams is a need, like food or water.  Often, people who have "made it" will say that they did so because they aren't suitable for any other kind of life.  I believe them.  If you don't absolutely need to be an actor, then please find something else that makes you happy and do that.  It's not "settling" if it makes you happy and you don't feel pangs of regret.

PERSISTENCE, of course, is key.  You have to constantly be doing things outside of your art for your art, and all for rejection.  And you have to keep doing it over and over and over and over again.

COURAGE, to accept your need, your love and your passion in the face of constant rejection. Courage to live without the hope of financial stability.  Courage to shun social norms and societal expectations.  Courage to constantly risk absurdity.  Courage to fail, and, even harder sometimes, courage to succeed.  Courage to look at yourself in the mirror to keep growing and getting better. Courage to listen to commentary about how you're wasting your time, you're never going to "make it", to hear questions like "when are you going to grow up and get a real job?"  In fact, you need courage to believe you are a grown up, when most of the world will tell you you're not.

RESILIENCE, or, thick skin.  Did I mention you're going to get rejected a whole lot?  It's true.  And when you're being rejected as an actor, it feels like they are rejecting YOU, because your body is your instrument.  And yes, I believe it's even worse for women.  I can't imagine being at a chorus girl "cattle call" audition, and literally having them point out "You, you, you, step forward.  The rest of you, thank you for your time", without really even seeing what you can do.  It is inherently a cruel process, and you have to be able to bounce back from it and do it all again.

FLEXIBILITY, at least until you're "in demand" or have "clout".  You might have to take jobs you're not passionate about, just to get on stage (don't compromise your deep-rooted morals, however). You have to compromise, eat dirt now and again.  They don't always teach you that in acting class.

SELF-ESTEEM, which ties in a bit with resilience, but is something a little different.  You have to believe you're good.  Not to the point where you're a total diva (again, unless you've achieved clout), but yes, there is a little ego involved, and maybe even some good-natured arrogance.  Don't feel bad about this.  You need it.  Facing all this rejection, you have to be able to psyche yourself up and feel good about yourself.  You have to believe.  Which leads me to...

IMMOVABLE FAITH.  You have to have the faith of a zealot. Faith, or course, is having believing in something, even without hard proof.  And actors need to have this kind of faith and belief--- a faith in themselves, of course, and faith in the fact that they WILL reach their goals.  That it is MEANT TO BE.  This faith is what can give you courage and resilience.

ACCEPTANCE.... I know some of you are probably thinking that this "acceptance" I'm talking about, is the acceptance to realize when it's time perhaps to pursue other things.  Nope.  This is a post about drive after all.  There's nothing else to pursue in this post.  The kind of acceptance I'm talking about is the acceptance that, in order to make it in the business, you have to remember it is a business. The art and the craft, which is what is responsible for your love and your passion, is not enough.  You could be the best actor of your generation, and never find work.  You also have to accept that, like I mentioned earlier, the stuff you learn in your acting classes in school, while serving your personal work, are not going to ensure your employment with a director who's process is completely different (remember flexibility?)  Acceptance of the fact that, while your heart wants to play Hamlet, you need to WANT to book that national laxative commercial just as much, and put just as much work into it as you would the world's most famous soliloquy.  You have to accept that sometimes, you may feel a little phony with people because you need them as a connection.  You have to accept that you are a PRODUCT and part of your job is to make yourself a BRAND.  A brand that people want to buy.  A brand that you're constantly tweeting about, and sharing on other social media.  Accept that this brand might lead to type casting, but, at least you're working, and one day you'll step out of your wheelhouse and show what you can really do. You have to accept that your love and passion comes with a lot of hurdles, and you're not always going to feel satisfied at the end of the day.  But you happily accept climbing more of that mountain day after day.

That's what drive is, ladies in gentlemen, in my humble opinion.  And, while I possess some of these fine qualities, I am lacking in others, which is why I never really pursued the big stages (more on that in another post).  And, no, I didn't intend for this to be a depressing post.  Just something to demonstrate a bit of a universal truth people don't always talk about--- to make it in show business, it's not enough to love the show.  You've gotta do the business.

Please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences on this subject in the comment section below. I'd love to hear what others think.

Thanks for reading Theater is a Sport.  Come back soon.

Learning Your Lines for a Play: A Second Look at Tips for Memorization

Note:  I am in no way affiliated with HBO or "Game of Thrones", other than thinking its cool

Thank you for stopping into Theater is a Sport today.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and this is my own little piece of the internet to talk about all things theater.

I have written about the subject of learning lines before, about a year and a half ago, and in that time, I have had some experiences that have changed my outlook a little bit.  So, at the risk of repeating myself somewhat, I offer these thoughts to you.

I'm asked a lot by people who have never in a play, how I learn my lines.  In fact, the conversation is usually something like this:

ADORING FAN:  I saw you in that play last weekend!  Lord, I don't know how you remember all those lines!

ME:  Oh, well, I'm glad you liked the...

ADORING FAN:  I'd get up on stage some time, but I just couldn't do it.  Remember all those lines! I can't even memorize my shopping list...

ME:  Well, it just takes practice, and...

ADORING FAN:  I mean, I could probably ACT circles around you!  You're nothing special, you know!  It's just the whole memorizing lines thing that keeps me from wiping the floor with your sorry butt!

ME:  Ah, I see.  Listen...

ADORING FAN:  No, you listen, Mr.  "I think I'm so great because I can memorize lines!"  I could be an actor, too, you know!

ME:  Ummm... right, it's just...

ADORING FAN:  What?!

ME:  Ummm.... the minister is talking right now, and people are starting at us.

In any case, usually, from these interactions, I get the idea that some people think that acting really is as simple as just learning lines.  In my opinion, I think learning lines should be the easiest part of being in a play.

Having said this, learning lines IS  important, and can be very challenging.  That's why I thought I'd offer a few tips and suggestions.  These are all things that have worked for either myself or other people I know.  They may not work for everybody.

First off, let's deal with this question:  At what point in the rehearsal process should you be off book? It's a good, fair, question, obviously with different schools of thought on the subject.  The brilliant Simon Callow offers some thoughts on the subject in his book, Being an Actor.  He suggests that, if you have a lead role, you should be off book by the first rehearsal.  On the other hand, if you have a small supporting role, he suggests you wait, for fear of growing bored with the text, among other reasons.

I can see what he's saying.  Last summer, I was in a play where it was required to be off book by the first rehearsal.  I've never really worked that way before, and was a little nervous, since I had so much to say, and, usually, it's the repetition of rehearsals that help me to memorize lines.  But, I did my best, and, I must say, I liked being off book earlier (though the scripts were still around to act as crutches).  It enabled a sense of making connections with other actors earlier in the process.  The lines and their meanings seemed to internalize earlier, as well, and, of course, it made blocking that much easier as well.  However, I do believe good, solid, productive work can still be accomplished with book in hand, but, I must confess, learning in advance really was a great experience that I think I'm going to keep trying for future plays I'm in.  For one thing, it forces everyone, even if not completely off book, to really know the story and how their character helps to tell it.

All right.  Down to the nitty gritty.  How do you learn your lines?

I used to be somewhat luckier than I am not.  I could read through a script over and  over, and just absorb my lines (and pretty much everyone else's, too).  As I've gotten a little older, it's not quite that simple.  So here are some other techniques:

KNOW YOUR CHARACTER and WHAT THEY WANT--- This, of course, is vital, even outside of learning your lines.  However, if you know your character, know what they want from scene to scene and know how they intend to get what they want, the lines make more sense, and, thus, are easier to remember.

HIGHLIGHT YOUR LINES:  It's a visual thing, and it helps.  It also ensures that you are learning ALL of your lines and not missing some.

RECORD YOUR LINES--- This helped me out last summer.  I made a few recordings on my iPad.  On the first, I read all my cues (in different voices), and then all my lines (in my voice).  I would listen to this recording a lot.  I'd wear headphones, and speak with my recorded voice.  As I grew more confident, I made another recording, this time with just my cues, and dead air in between them, for me to speak my lines out loud.  This came in handy when I didn't have another person to help cue me,  Which leads to...

HAVE SOMEONE CUE YOU--- Enlist a friend or family member to take the script, and read your cues.  Have them correct you if you make a mistake (instruct them to merciless on this, pretty much word-for-word).  If you don't know a line, have them read it to you, repeat it out loud, then have them go back and give you the cue again.  It can be a tedious process, but it has the benefit of really working well.  Warning:  you most likely will get frustrated, especially if they have to correct you a lot, but that's okay.  Just take it line by line.

USE YOUR RECORDED LINES WHEN EXERCISING---  I have friends who swear by this, and I've tried it, too.  Physical activity opens up the brain for absorption.  It's a great time to run through lines in your head, or through your earphones.  Exercising, from what I hear, is also healthy.

TAKE GINGKO  (UNLESS YOU'RE ON BLOOD THINNERS)

One thing I would strongly recommend, and Callow makes note of this in his book as well, is to not memorize your performance.  Memorize your lines.  Don'g get married to how you say your lines, but just to the lines themselves.  Meisner always said to learn lines by rote, so that you can react naturally on stage.  This is easier said than done, of course, and, you're bound to memorize your lines with some expression to them.  However, don't let this keep you from letting that go, and reacting naturally with your scene partners, and don't let it keep you from discovering new things about your character.

One last thing--- even though I'm a playwright, I don't think a script suffers from an occasional line that isn't said 100% as written.  In fact, that's bound to happen.  I still recommend trying to learn your lines verbatim, because then, you will hopefully be so aware of your character's intentions, that if your mind does go blank, you can get a close facsimile of your line out of your mouth.

I know there are many other thoughts and techniques about learning lines, and I would love to hear your thoughts on the subject.  Please comment below.  This is a place to share, after all.  We've all got our theater stories to tell.

Just remember--- memorizing lines is essential.  Just don't memorize your performance.

Break a leg!

Community Theater Directors: How to Avoid Becoming Overwhelmed at Rehearsals

Me, Bobby Keniston, trying to figure something out in "Silent Laughter" at Lakewood Theater

Greetings everyone, and welcome to Theater is a Sport.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I will be your host at this blog, where I write down my thoughts on theater, most often for the school and community theater markets, but, sometimes, just theater in general.

Today, I have some thoughts and advice for any community theater directors out there who are feeling stressed out and overwhelmed.  First of all, this is natural.  You are not alone.  In fact, I am writing about this subject today because I am currently directing a production for a local community theater, and I am feeling a little stressed out and overwhelmed.  These thoughts are a way of helping me psych myself up, too.

So, let's see...

TIP #1:  PAY CLOSE ATTENTION WHEN CASTING
While this is true for all productions, it is especially true for school and community theater.  A good number of times, us directors have to make concessions and compromises when casting, or, if we are directing a really large cast play, we may just have to take everyone who auditions.  This happens sometimes.  But there are important things to take into consideration, aside from person's talent.  Do they have a great number of conflicts that will make them constantly late to or absent from rehearsals?  Believe me, you want to know this right away.  Always have a tentative rehearsal schedule for auditions, and ask for conflicts on their audition forms.
What's their personality like?  Do they come off as arrogant or diva-esque?  This is important, although, you can't always judge a person in that way from a short audition.  However, if a fellow director tells you that you should be careful with a certain person because they were a nightmare in a play they directed, you might want to listen to them.  Nothing makes rehearsals more frustrating than a person with a bad attitude.  Likewise, if you're directing a play with children or teens, you might want to inquire to others about any behavior issues or anything like that.
Trust me, I would rather cast a less talented person who works hard and has a great attitude, than a good actor who is going to make my life as a director difficult.  This might not be true for me for professional endeavors, but at the community theater and school levels, I think it is a good code to go by.

TIP #2  GO INTO EACH REHEARSAL WITH A PLAN
Have an idea of what you think the overall shape of the characters on stage will be.  A foundation of blocking when you go into it is very important.  Now, this might have to be adjusted or outright changed when you see it on it's feet, but it's still wise to have a plan.

TIP #3  KNOW THE TEXT, KNOW THE TEXT, KNOW THE TEXT!
You should know the script, the way it flows, the characters in each scene, the technical and prop concerns for each scene.  Again, some of these things may be added to or removed during the rehearsal process, but you should go in with the a good understanding of what you'll need, and an impeccable understanding of the story, and how it is told.  Have an aesthetic vision, and make sure the cast and crew know what it is as soon as possible!

TIP #4  YOU'RE IN CHARGE, SO BE IN CHARGE
This isn't an episode of "Who's the Boss?," and you're not Tony Danza or Judith Light.  You're the director--- you're the boss.  Does this mean you should be an unflinching, draconian automaton?  Of course not.  You should encourage some collaboration, and, yes, actors should be allowed some ownership of your characters.  But a production needs a leader, a number one person, and you are it.  If actors in the play pipe up when you're giving notes, make it clear kindly, but firmly and without question, that this decision is yours.  If they want to talk to you at another time, that is fine, but not when you are giving direction, and not in front of the rest of the cast.  This goes for parents, volunteers, and pretty much anybody.  You will never get anything done, and the cast will feel like they can direct themselves, if you open up every bit of direction to a town meeting.

TIP #5:  HAVE A GOAL TO ACCOMPLISH FOR EACH REHEARSAL.
You may not accomplish them all, but that's okay.  For rehearsals that you don't accomplish your daily goal, say, blocking pages 12-18, make notes as to why the work couldn't be finished in the allotted time, and minimize those reasons, if possible, for future rehearsals.

TIP #6:  ALWAYS HAVE AN ANSWER, EVEN IF THAT ANSWER IS "I'M CONSIDERING OPTIONS TO TRY"
Directors are asked a lot of questions.  That's what being the leader gets you.  Actors, designers, crew members--- they all have questions, and many of them good ones.  Always give them an answer.  It's good for your confidence, and it inspires confidence in others.  And instead of having an answer be "I don't know", say "I'm considering different options to try out."  Doesn't that feel good to say?  Warning:  don't use that answer too much, though.

TIP #7 BREATHE AND TAKE A BREAK
There's no shame in reaching a saturation point at a rehearsal.  It happens.  If you get to a point where you know you're no longer being productive for yourself or the cast, take a break.  Give them five or ten minutes, to give yourself five or ten minutes.  Breathe.  Ask everyone to refrain from asking you questions during the break.  Separate yourself from the group if need be and allow yourself to think without all those expectant eyes looking at you, waiting for direction.  You're only human.

TIP #8  FIND WAYS TO MAKE DIRECTION A TEACHABLE MOMENT
If you're directing for community theater and schools, you will most likely have a wide variety of skill sets in your cast, some very high, some very inexperienced.  It is okay to phrase your direction almost as lesson with young people and inexperienced adults.  Don't condescend, of course.  But this isn't Broadway... sometimes you need to teach.  Sometimes a person's first play is like their Intro to Theater 101.  Don't be afraid to be their professor.

TIP #9  MAKE PEACE WITH HAVING TO BE FLEXIBLE
You're going to have to do this.  Something like this is bound to happen:  you have planned to rehearse Jimbo's big scene, and, at the last minute, you get a call from Jimbo that he's not going to be there.  You have to quickly find a way to make rehearsal valuable for you and for those cast members called.  Take five minutes and figure out what other scene you can work on with the people who are there, with the least amount of fuss.

TIP #10  YOU'RE GOING TO GET STRESSED OUT AND OVERWHELMED
"Heavy is the head that wears the crown" and all that.  It's going to happen.  It just is.  Welcome it, feel it, and keep moving.  Remember you do this because you love it.  And, if you find you don't actually love it, don't do it again.

I hope you find these thoughts valuable.  I would love to hear thoughts from others as well, in the comments below.  I'll take all the help I can get!

Until next time...