Archives for category: Theatre

I’ve been meaning to get to this for some time but my schedule has been mighty full!

In Part 2 of this series, we looked at the outermost layer of a personality and how transparent it can be. This time, we’re going to jump to the center of the “onion” and start to work our way out. It’s a lot easier to explain and understand that way.

Let’s begin with a crash course in a little Freudian theory. Freud has fallen into disrepute with many psychologists and psychiatrists but, nonetheless, he has posited one idea that works well for our purposes. That is, three factors which govern many aspects of a personality: id, ego and superego. I’m going to blow past most of the conscious and subconscious mind stuff Freud wrote about because once we go down that rabbit hole, things start to get pretty convoluted. But, as we go through this process I’ll be using those terms from time to time just for the sake of clarity. That’s because much of the time we humans behave in ways we’re not aware of.

We’ll start with id. The id is our inner pleasure seeker. The id is not always rational. It just wants what it wants, period. It also seeks out our basic human needs. When you’re feeling “needy” or feeling “frisky” that’s your id talking.

Then there’s ego. Ego gets a bad rap. Its purpose is commonly limited to one’s self image but it does more than that. The ego is more organized. It seeks ways to satisfy the id’s drive to the benefit of the long term and utilizes defensive mechanisms to justify its means. Those mechanisms will become really important in your acting work.

Finally, there’s super-ego. Your super-ego is your inner cop or judge. It decides whether choices you make are appropriate or not.

So, being just about as basic as possible, let’s sum up. The ego attempts to satisfy the id under the supervision of the super-ego. It could be said that criminals have weak super-egos. Hedonists possibly have overactive ids. Selfish people might have more active egos.

Those three components are at the center of the onion. They’re huddled in our subconscious for the most part. We don’t think about them. They just keep on doing what they do, like a heart beating. When they work in harmony, they help form the foundation for an emotionally healthy individual. When they don’t, things get interesting.

We’ll start playing around with the “Subconscious Trio” next time.

During a party a few years ago a younger actor (more and more of them are younger, lately!) asked me for some tips on auditioning. I wasn’t sure what to tell her because I was not the best at auditions. So I started out by telling her just that. Then, I started thinking out loud with her and this idea about the ‘balance of power’ materialized.

When auditioning, keep the balance of power in your favor. Don’t give it all to the auditors. Since you have no way of knowing what they’re thinking anyway, why give them more control than they already have? You won’t be the one who decides upon the look of the character you’re reading for. You’re not going draw any conclusions by reading your own resume’. For all you know, the director already knows whom he wants for the part.

What you do control completely is your performance. That gives you the power over your audition. Even if you’re reading for Steven Speilberg, the moment you begin, he is putty in your hands. You can take him anywhere you choose. You’re the one with the acting talent, not him. That gives you a lot of muscle. So, show off. Own the room. Take it to the limit. Break rules. Show him, or whomever, who’s boss. Then, if you don’t get the part, you still have the satisfaction of knowing you did one hell of an audition. And so the real loser is not you. It’s the production that’s losing out.

It’s a drug, acting in theater is. An addictive one. It must be. Oh sure, it starts out innocently enough. The first few doses go down easy, seductively. We get them slipped to us in high school or college or community theater. We’re hanging out with people just like us. And, damn! It’s so fun! The crowd laughs when they’re supposed to. They applaud us. Our friends and family compliment us. Acting is the most awesome thing, ever!

Then we go for it in the real world. (By now, we’re left with no choice in the matter. The needle is in to stay.) We do without money while we pursue it. We give up our days and nights to stay involved. It can take a dozen auditions before getting a callback or even a nibble. When you’re working regularly, it’s tempting to feel as though you’ll never be without work again. When you’re not working at all, it’s tempting to feel as though you will never work again.

There have been many evenings when, after working the day job for eight hours, the last thing I’ve wanted to do was go to the theater and do a show. I’ve continued to feel that way while dragging on wardrobe and killing time in the green room wishing the night was over, already.

But then, I step out onto the stage and there’s no place on earth I’d rather be.

We all have our reasons for pushing through the hard parts so we can get in front of an audience. What are yours?

Personally, I get off on the communal experience. It’s me, the rest of the cast, the crew and the audience all sharing a different place and time together. Here’s deal we make with the audience:

“Okay, you give us a few bucks and we’ll get up here and transport you away from your particular daily grind. You might learn something or maybe you’ll laugh your ass off for a couple of hours. Whatever. We’re going to bust humps to make some magic. And what all of us on stage, everyone backstage and all of you out there experience together will be totally unique. The next audience will not see or hear the exact same things you see and hear. Because this ain’t the movies, folks. And you get another, really interesting benefit out of the deal. We’re working without a net up here. You just might see us really embarrass ourselves. Enjoy!”

I think I’ve just talked myself into seeking out another fix.

This video speaks a lot of truth to everyone, especially actors and other artists. Take a moment and watch it.

That video is brilliant and everyone should see it. Better yet, everyone should live it.

It brought back a very fond memory. I was in Wynn Handman’s class in the mid-nineties. (If you’ve never heard of Wynn, Google his name. He’s one of the great gifts to American theatre.) In Wynn’s class you worked on whatever you wanted to work on. A monologue, one-person show, whatever. Or, if you had nothing specific in mind, Wynn would pair you off with another student and give you a scene to work on. He assigned a scene from Beyond the Horizon to a male/female pair of students.

Beyond the Horizon was Eugene O’Niell’s first full-length play. Written in 1920, it’s a story about two men in love with the same woman and the personal compromises each is willing to make to win her over.

The actors did their first read through in front of class. After the read through, Wynn got up and made his comments and gave his notes. He started by telling us that O’Niell’s play was a uniquely American tragedy. He then explained what constituted an American tragedy. One of the most profound facets of American life is the freedom to choose the life we want to live. In 1920 that choice was not and, in some cases, is still not available in many of the world’s other cultures. In those places, from the time one is born their life is mapped out for them: where they will live, how they will earn a living and even whom they will marry. But as Americans we have the freedom to make our own, individual life choices and follow dreams no matter how crazy they may seem to others. We can choose the path we want for our lives and even change paths if we want to. An American tragedy results when someone makes the wrong choice. Wynn closed those remarks by saying to the class, “And here’s to all of you talented people for choosing the right path!”