Writing For Myself?

I find myself wondering about next year's New Years resolution.  Last year's big event was my breakup with Leah.  That came at the tail end of a very difficult year, where we almost broke up several times.  Naturally, this led to this year's resolution: to never again be in a relationship where I questioned if I valued the relationship more than the other . . . and to go through the whole year without moving a girlfriend in with me.  With Jen, it appears that I have managed both. 

Last year and this year, theatre has really occupied my times.  Where last year I was still hopeful, this year that is all gone.  I am sick and tired of bit parts, sick of roles that don't challenge me and that I essentially "phone in", and sick and tired of the color of my skin disqualifying me from part after part.  It's natural that next year, my resolution should relate to this. 

One resolution could be that I will no longer take bit parts.  For original works, this would be difficult to manage: I don't know the size of the part until I see the script, and that typically is at the first rehearsal.  I would become that person that comes to the first rehearsal, sees the size of my part, and says "no, sorry, I'm too good for that part."  It also means potentially that I give up acting completely: if no one will give me any more than a bit part, that means I'm done with acting. 

The thing is that I don't have a problem with bit parts.  The problem I have is when that is the only thing I get, when I see that I am much better than people that have the better parts, and when that bit part still requires a ton of preparation.  All three were true with my two big plays in the spring, "Shakespeare in the Trailer Park" and "42nd Street".  Of the two, I think "42nd Street" was the worst.  My part was so insignificant that I received no direction, and I wound up spending a substantial amount of money on my own costume when I realized, a week before opening, that no one had bothered getting my costume. 

I think a better resolution is the positive form: next year, I will have at least one performance that challenges me and that I can be proud of.  The problem here is that my resolution is essentially taking this out of my hands.  I don't decide what parts I get.  If audition committees can't look past my brown skin, I won't get a part that will allow me to succeed in my resolution.  It turns out that there are two solutions. 

First, Hedgerow showcase classes.  I pay $250 (which was much less than I spent on "42nd Street", between fees, fundraising, supplies, and costumes), and I get to do something challenging.  This past Monday, for example, I performed a scene from Ibsen's "A Doll's House".  It was a great scene and I really enjoyed it.  Will I ever be able to play that part "for real"?  Probably not.  But the showcase class counts.  After all, I performed it on Hedgerow's stage!

Second, there is the matter of my writing.  I do not write a play for myself to perform.  In "Leia", "Vampe", or even "Prisoner" (which two people in my class on Monday performed on Hedgerow's stage), I don't see myself in the play.  It seems almost like cheating to write a play intending that I have the starring role.  Besides, if I am in a play I have written, I would be driving myself nuts trying to rewrite it. 

But, maybe I should start thinking in those terms.  Next year, I am hoping "Leia" and "Vampe" will be performed.  "Vampe" is a big musical and so far the songs seem very challenging, so maybe that isn't for me.  But maybe I can play a part in "Leia".  And maybe I should push myself to finish my modernization of "Tosca".  If "Leia" and "Vampe" go somewhere, there might be interest in at least a staged reading of the "Tosca" play. 

Maybe I should be thinking in these terms.

Sometimes it's a little jealousy

Maybe a year ago, I went to an audition.  At the audition, I ran in to a dear friend.  I've known her for several years through a Gilbert & Sullivan group and I even had a chance to perform with her once for a Christmas play.  I know she's really good, and she appears to think highly of my work. 

Neither of us got parts.  Later, I ran in to her and she was wondering who they had gotten for that show: the people that auditioned with us were, in her words, terrible.  As it is, I knew two people that weren't at the auditions but were going to be in the show, and I knew they were both very good.  After the auditions and after sending out the "we don't want you" e-mails, they went recruiting to fill out the cast. 

I had auditioned for this group (the group holding the audition) once before and now they went to my "I'm not going to bother with them" list.  Sure, I will audition with them . . . if they asked me, and if the audition was extremely convenient.  They're not worth wasting my time.  Meanwhile, what about my friend? 

She got a great lead part in another play (with another group that, by the way, is on my "I'm not going to bother with them" list).  Her career has exploded since then, rightfully so.  Her performance was so good that it actually brought tears to my eyes.  The group that turned us both down now has her in their next show: I wonder if they are thinking "maybe we should have given her a chance?"  The other day, she was asked to audition for a professional theatre company.  One big break was all she needed!

I'm really happy for her, she deserves this.  I'm jealous, too.  I love to act, I love the stage, but the most I get are bit parts and I'm not going to get anywhere doing bit parts.  To be perfectly blunt, I don't really even know if I'm good.  Maybe I might get known for my writing, but I'll never be known for my acting, and that's just reality. 

In any case, I'm looking at my future.  The theatre company that did "42nd Street" is going to do something called "Nutcracker Fusion", a dance show.  I decided that I will not audition for it.  This theatre company specializes in musicals and specializes in their young cast, so I'll never have more than a bit part in one of their shows.  Today, there are auditions for a Christmas show at the theatre company that did "Shakespeare in the Trailer Park" and that hopes to do my play, "Leia".  I've had my fill of Christmas shows: I'll probably change my mind before tonight, but right this moment I think it would be for the best if I didn't audition for that.  I've put my name in for a general audition in October.  They will see where (and if) I am a fit, and if it is a part that doesn't challenge me, I will turn it down. 

Meanwhile, on Monday, my acting classes start.  They're a bit expensive, but I think I will go for it.  I have a strange feeling, though.  When I feel almost as though it's best to bite the bullet and walk away from acting altogether, why am I taking the class?  It's no longer "take an acting class, build my skills, and get a great part."  It's "take an acting class because this is the only place where I can perform a part with any substance."