When I decide to Start Again With Theatre

This Friday is the final performance of "42nd Street".  This Sunday is the cast party, and to be perfectly blunt, I seriously don't want to go.  I still love the theatre company, but I am incredibly dissatisfied with this show.  In the past, one of the things I loved doing was, after the show, mingling with the audience.  With this show, I find myself not wanting to bother.  I go out for a minute, see if there is anyone I know, and then I leave.  I am very much ready for a break.

A little while ago, I decided that I will take a break from acting.  I've earned it: 10 shows in 12 months!  But when I am ready to restart, I have a few thoughts.

(1) No more plays that I don't like.  I thought "Shakespeare in the Trailer Park" wasn't a very good play.  And "42nd Street" was pretty bad, too.  Sure, everyone loves "42nd Street".  "42nd Street" had some great musical numbers, but in between the musical numbers -- the actual play itself -- it sucked.  I've had a philosophy of "getting my name out": auditioning everywhere and taking whatever role was offered to me.  Well, no!  If I don't like the play, I won't even bother.  I haven't come up with a strategy for original plays ("Shakespeare in the Trailer Park" was an original work, so I couldn't go to the book store and look it up).  

(2) I have nothing against small parts, so long as I am building my skills and learning something.  I have nothing against a small part so long as the part is interesting.  No more "phoning in" my performance!  The beadseller in "Murder on the Nile" was a small part, but I learned so much from the director and from working with the theatre company.  On the other hand, my part in "Shakespeare in the Trailer Park"?  Nothing.  My part in "42nd Street"?  Nothing.  These parts didn't challenge me.  I didn't learn anything, and I didn't improve my skill-set one bit.  Why bother? 

(3) If I don't feel like people care about the part, it's not for me.  For all the problems with "Shakespeare in the Trailer Park", I never felt like people didn't care about my character, small as it was.  The directors gave me direction.  They got me costumes.  And I heard several times from the audience that I was one of the favorite parts of the play.  For my part in "42nd Street"?  Well, not so much.  The directors spent so much time and energy on the huge dance numbers that they didn't seem to think about the "play" itself.  I saw signs of that with the performances of the other actors and some of the staging.  From my own end, I received little to no stage direction.  Was it because I am so amazing that I knocked the ball out of the ballpark from the very start?  Or was it because the directors were so involved with the dance numbers that they didn't have time for anything else?  I had the flexibility of reworking my character the way I wanted, portraying him differently from how anyone has ever portrayed him.  What did the directors think?  I have no idea.  I don't think they even noticed.  A week and a half before opening night, I realized that they had no costumes for me, so I had to buy the costumes myself.  Why?  Because my character wasn't in most of the dance numbers, so no one cared.  As for the audience?  Maybe I did an amazing performance that wow'd everyone, but by the ending everyone has forgotten about that because of the dance numbers.  This is incredibly dissatisfying.  If no one cares about a role, then it's not for me. 

(4) Multiple performances at the same time?  Let's limit that.  Starting at the end of January, I had rehearsal for "42nd Street" and "Shakespeare in the Trailer Park", and I had my acting class.  One day, I was asked to be in a one-day filming of a student film.  This was all a bit too much!  I need to drop back, to perhaps one play and one class at most.  I'll still be open to things like that student film, but that will be all.  When I think back to the fact that in less than 12 months, I was in 10 plays, I must wonder whether or not I am insane!

(5) Let's hold off on musicals for a while.  Simple fact: I don't like musicals.  Also, I don't sing particularly well, which by definition means I will not have a major part in a musical (since, presumably, a major part will require singing a solo or a duet).  Also, many musicals are severely lacking in interesting characters and dramatic opportunity.  In "Godspell", the "acting" was essentially just fooling around.  In "42nd Street", most of the cast are just there to be in a dance number . . . they don't even have personalities.  Sure, I have never been turned down from a musical (I suspect this is because most musical productions badly need men), but I don't enjoy them either. 

Drawing Lines in the Sand

I wrote about this the other day in a different site, and hopefully this will last a little longer than my usual turn-a-page-and-start-again scheme.  In no small part, one of the things bothering me is that in a few days, my PFA against my ex-ex, Joni, is over.  I'm hoping she is finally done with me and I won't be hearing from her any more, but now I have no idea what to expect. 

And meanwhile, a few weeks ago, I had to put the PFA threat against Leah. 

I've seen a lot of women over the years: some as lover and some as friend/confidant.  I've touched a lot of lives, and in the end I have some dear friends out of the deal.  But I've had a lot more hurt.  And there are some out there for whom I still hold out some hope.  Hope that they will show me that they are worth some place in my heart.  Many of these people do not deserve it. 

A while ago, I got over my hope that Joni would come to me one day and say that she has gone through years of therapy and is sorry for how horribly she treated me.  I had it hammered into my head that this would not happen, and that even harboring that hope somewhere in my mind gave her something she could hook into.  I needed to do more of that. 

Leah will never come to me and apologize for how she acted.  I'll go further: she will never be held accountable for how she acted.  She is making up stories about me and telling these stories freely.  She is surrounded by people that shake their heads and say "wow, how terrible!"  And there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop that.  Leah is a horrible person and she is gone from my life, and if there was a part of my mind that hoped that something good could come from that ordeal I endured with her . . . it's time to stop. 

And one other friend: it's been clear to me for a couple of years that she has been treating me like crap.  In her case, cutting her out of my life means losing something very precious to me.  But that's just the way it is.

These are hooks in me, places where horrible people could hold on with their claws even if they don't know they are.  It's one thing to remember them, it's one thing to tell stories about them, it's another thing to live in those memories.  And it's time that stopped.  Stories should be just stories. 

So, what to do about theatre?

Back in February or March, I decided to take a break from theatre.  Specifically, from auditioning.  I still have "42nd Street" in late-May/early-June.  I still have "Henry V" at Pennsic, in early August.  Beyond that, I have nothing planned.  After "Angels in America", I haven't auditioned for anything.  I toyed with the idea of auditioning for "Our Town" and "Arsenic and Old Lace", but those didn't happen. 

I did spend some time with the script for "Vamp" (or "Vampe", the current working title), with Matt from Viviana.  The play text is complete at this point, although we are tweaking it according to some suggestions from a play reading we had in April.  Matt still has to write a few songs, and he has two hours of music to compose.  He has entered the play in a contest.  If we get past the first part of the contest, we will have until the beginning of September to finish the entire play, for the second part of the contest.  If we win, the play will be produced off-Broadway!  If we don't win, I guess we continue with our original plan of finding a venue in Philadelphia.  Matt is serious about staging this play!

After "42nd Street", Matt will be working on a production of "Rent".  My younger son will be in two "youth productions", "Cinderella" and "Annie".  That means I'll probably wind up getting involved somehow.  I'm sure Matt will find the time to work on the music!

So, what about my idea of starting up my own theatre company?  I'm not thinking about anything until after "42nd Street".  Jen's idea is to start smaller: just put on one show, rather than start a whole company.  This means finding a venue, finding a script, finding a director, holding auditions, figuring out how much this will cost, and figuring out fundraising.  This is very intimidating for me!  My stated goal is to reach out to minorities for lead roles . . . how the heck do I do that? 

I had a thought of doing something even smaller.  I need to look in to copyright rules and royalties.  I was reading "Equus" the other day, and I started wondering: what if a couple of us got together and performed this script in front of a microphone?  And what if we took the sound recording of this and uploaded it to Youtube (the visual part might be nothing more than the word "Equus")?  I should contact the people that own the rights to "Equus" to see if this is even allowed.  Certainly, if they were going to charge money for this, I couldn't do it (I'll need to find a different script).  Basically, I'm thinking about using Youtube as a venue to perform the equivalent of radio plays.  Maybe, if I did enough of these, eventually someone would watch one! 

It looks like this summer, I should have time to play around with these ideas. 

Being Neglectful

I believe I'm falling for the old trap, the "I've got a nice new girlfriend, so I'm all over what my horrid old girlfriend did to me" bit.  I don't think about Leah all that much.  Things have been going well with Jen.

Jen was apprehensive about meeting my kids, but she did eventually meet them.  And she was won over by them.  The kids really like her as well.  How much do they like her?  In April, Jen was going to go to visit some friends in Ohio.  That wound up falling through, so she was "available".  I came up with an insane idea: the boys and I took a bus up to New York City and spent the weekend with her.  Oh, by the way, we went to see "Phantom of the Opera" on Broadway.  The weekend went amazingly well, to put it mildly! 

I thought back to some of my lovers.  Maryann was going to move in with me and we were all going to be a family.  That's how she spoke, but she never followed through.  Joni made promise after promise to the kids, but they were all lies.  Heck, she never even took my younger son fishing!  Leah made smaller scale promises -- teaching my younger son to cook, for example -- but she never followed through.  Jen promised to take my kids to a Broadway show, and she kept her promise.  I think this might be a first for us! 

This weekend, I'm heading up to New York City again.  On Friday night, I'll be watching Jen perform.  On Saturday, we will be spending the whole day at an SCA event (Jen's first SCA event).  Unfortunately, I'll be leaving early on Sunday, in order to get back in time for "42nd Street" rehearsal.  We might be spending the next few weeks apart, which is always difficult for us.  Jen has the summers off work (she's a teacher), so she promises to visit so much that I'll be sick of her!  My only issue with that?  I can only imagine that New York City is a little more interesting than some suburb of Philadelphia!  Maybe we would rather be "there" than have her "here"!

2nd Anniversary!

Today is the two month anniversary of my first date with Jen!  And I forgot all about it today . . . which means we really are a real couple!

We’ve had ups and downs.  Towards the end of our first month together, there were some serious questions about if we would last.  Now, at the end of two months together, we’re making plans months ahead.  I guess that means we’re on an upswing!

And she still hasn’t admitted to being in love with me.  Uh huh.

Jen and I met at a party.  This was in mid-January, a month from when Leah had left.  With the holidays gone, I decided it was time to be social again.  Jen was sitting at a bar: I walked over and we started chatting.  We chatted a good bit.  Eventually, we parted company: I was hungry so I ordered some food, and she went off with some of her friends.  Before leaving, however, she gave me her contact information.

That led to us chatting a bit that next week.  I didn’t know how to read her: we were consistently exchanging e-mails, but I didn’t know if she actually liked me.  Eventually, she mentioned that she was going to be in Pennsylvania that next week . . . would I like to get together?  I said sure, and started referring to it as a “date”.  She responded well to that.  So . . . we had a date!

Much to my surprise, many of my friends were watching my Facebook posts about this.  People were enthusiastic.  After the date, a bunch of people were asking me “how did it go?”  I didn’t think my love life was that interesting to people.

And it went very, very well!

Jen and I chat on the phone almost every night.  It’s no tragedy if we miss a night here or there, but it is something we look forward to.  Most of the time, she comes down to Pennsylvania, but three times already I’ve headed up to New York City to spend time with her.  Heck, one of those times I even drove!  Our intimate time is great: she has so much energy and our bodies fit together ever so nicely.  As much as I love spending intimate time with her, I think the best part of our time together is when we are out.  She is far too exciting, to me, to keep her hidden away in a dark room. 

I try to not be negative.  I thought I had something special with my last two girlfriends, until the day it ended.  I am nuts about Jen and I keep trying to stop myself from thinking “this won’t last forever”.

Creating A Theatre Company? That's Crazy!

Tonight, I have rehearsal for “42^nd Street”.  I missed Sunday and Monday this week because of “Shakespeare in the Trailer Park”.  I just sent off an e-mail: a theatre company in New Jersey is having auditions for “Angels in America” tonight.  I can make it there by 8:45.  I asked: is that too late?  Auditions are set to go on until 9:30. 

I would LOVE to be in “Angels in America”, but that leads to a little question mark in my head: who could I play?  Prior is of British heritage, and that fact is of some importance (he is visited by the ghosts of his ancestors at one point).  Louis is Jewish, and early on is seeking the advice of a Rabbi.  Joe is a Mormon originally from Utah.  Roy Cohn is based on a real person, who was Jewish.  That leaves Belize, a gay man former-drag-queen played by an African American in the movie.  There we go.  I will wager that everyone wants to play Belize. 

Actually, I wager that there will be a LOT of people for this audition.  “Angels” is a GREAT play. 

I’m feeling the same discouragement I felt 25 years ago, when I stopped acting.  Back then, I used to remark: what kind of a future would I have as an actor?  I can play Gandhi.  I can grow a mustache and try to pass as Hispanic, and thus play a drug smuggler.  The roles just weren’t out there.  My friends told me that things were changing, that there were more roles out there for people that looked ethnic.  They told me that there were tons of theatre companies that did “blind casting”, or didn’t care about how I looked.  Whatever.  25 years later, and I encountered the same frustration.  And I heard the same line about how things were changing.  And I heard the same lines about “blind casting”.  Where are these groups that do “blind casting”, anyway? 

Ironically, I have had a great deal of luck auditioning for musicals.  I was “Narrator” in five musicals with Thespis.  If I wanted to be part of their springtime show, I know they will find a place for me.  I did “Godspell” and I am now doing “42^nd Street” with Viviana.  Matt, the leader of Viviana, has stated that they will keep me busy year-round if I wanted.

For dramatic roles, it’s a different story.  I wind up having to come to Hedgerow and pay $250 for their showcase classes, in order to get challenging roles.  The first time I took a class, the teacher suggested I perform a monologue from “Equus”.  The second time I took a class, I was in “Laramie Project”, and I closed the show with Dennis Shepard’s speech in front of the court, asking that the man that murdered his son not be given the death penalty.  Now, I am performing a scene from “Angels in America” and performing a monologue from Pinter’s “The Caretaker”.  No theatre company would cast me for any of these roles, but through those acting classes I was able to perform them. 

Several times last year the answer was a definite: it was how I looked that cost me the part.  Of course, no one will actually tell you this, leaving you always wondering “maybe I suck.”  The other thing about the Hedgerow classes is that they give me confidence: I know that I am good.  There are three theatre companies that are on my “bad experiences” list.  This is not to say that I won’t audition for them again, but I won’t go out of my way to do so. 

The first was a Shakespeare company.  I went in for an audition and was the only person in the room that was only asked to read only once.  Everyone else was asked to read two or three times.  That meant that the decision had already been made.  I was asked to read that one time as a formality – I was there, after all.  This same Shakespeare group has auditions tonight, but to make it to that would mean skipping “42^nd Street” again and missing the “Angels in America” audition: no.  I won’t go out of my way for them. 

There was another group for which I auditioned for “Deathtrap”.  In “Deathtrap”, the ethnicicity of the leads is not at all an issue, nor is the time when it is set.  Yet, the director took one look at me and said he wanted me to read for a bit part.  He knew nothing about me.  He had not seen me perform before.  I had not yet read for him.  Someone else told me that I should have told him I wanted to read for a lead part.  Why bother?  He had already made the determination that I didn’t fit in this play.  I do get audition announcements for them now and then, but again I won’t go out of my way. 

The third is a group for which I auditioned twice.  I was willing to buy that the first time I might not have been any good.  The second time, however, was a different matter.  One other man auditioned for this show.  Several people that were at that audition said that I was substantially better than him.  And he got the callback and the part.  By the way, he is white.  It was worse than that, though.  They sent me an e-mail saying that they weren’t offering me a part in the play, but they still hadn’t cast it.  After telling me I wasn’t in the play, they started actively seeking other men to fill out the cast!  In other words, they didn’t know who they would get in the play, they just knew they didn’t want me!  I’m sure that this theatre company greatly regrets that fact that I probably won’t waste my time auditioning for them again.

The lead in 99.99% of movies and theatre are tall white men.  When I wrote my play “Leia”, I didn’t discuss the ethnicicity of the characters, and in fact it made no difference.  But I have to admit: as I wrote it, I imagined white people.  If it were ever performed, would a director look past these ethnic biases when casting?

So, I found myself fantasizing.  When Viviana performed “Aida”, they used make-up to darken the appearance of their almost-entirely white cast.  When they did “Hairspray”, part of the rules with being allowed to perform that play was that they couldn’t do that: no darkening the skin of white actors in order to play African American roles!  I imagined writing a play that everyone would want to perform.  I imagined putting a requirement in there: “if you want to perform this play, these lead characters must be played by minorities.”  Community theatre groups would need to put out that extra effort, as Viviana had to do for “Hairspray”, to find minorities. 

Another thought that caught my imagination: why not start a theatre company myself?  I no sooner mentioned this thought than Jen had tons of ideas and pointers and advice.  Um . . . I’m not prepared to actually do that just yet!  But maybe I should.  What would be the point of this theatre group?

First, while musicals would not be excluded, this theatre group would specialize in dramatic work.  It would specialize in acting. 

Second, we would look for works that have minority leading roles.  They are out there; they do exist, but are rarely performed in community theatre.  This requires a willingness to put out the effort to find those plays.  Or to write them. 

Third, we would specialize in putting minorities in leading roles.  This sounds good, but implementation will be challenging as heck.  What do I do if I hold an audition and I get a hundred white people and no minorities?  Do I turn them away, saying I want minorities?  This group would need to have by-appointment auditions and would need to perform significant outreach to find the minority actors to encourage them to come.  Many plays will need rewriting in order to get this to work.  For example, if an African American played Stan in “Streetcar Named Desire”, we would need to rewrite all the parts that make reference to him being Polish. 

Then we have the normal question marks.  Fundraising: I have no money and no credit.  Finding people interested in being the “board of directors”.  I know nothing about performing the outreach this group would need.  I know nothing about how to run a theatre company.  Finding a venue.  Advertising.  Selling tickets.  Finding the director and the producer for the show.  Running auditions.  I would have a LOT to learn in order to do this, to the point where I probably won’t even be able to be in the first couple of shows!

Right now, it remains a pipe-dream.  It’s not even that: it’s just a thought that popped into my head one day.  But . . . is it a bad idea?  It sounds like a good idea. The question, then, is if I am the man to lead this effort.

Acting Class

Last year, I took my first acting class at Hedgerow. 

The previous December, I was thinking to myself: I enjoyed acting.  Maybe I wanted to do more than just a Christmas show?  My kids were in a Gilbert & Sullivan show.  Affiliated with this group was a Shakespeare group.  Cool, I said: I will audition for that!  And . . . I didn’t get a part. 

To be blunt, I’m not likely to audition again for this group.  The woman that called to say I didn’t get a part remarked that it was because I didn’t have my monologue memorized.  I could see that . . . except that the monologue was completely optional.  During the main part of the audition, I was called up a grand total of once to read.  Everyone else – EVERYONE else – was called up two or three times.  That means the decision had already been made.  Was I SO terrible during my one reading (so much worse than anyone else) that I didn’t warrant a second reading?  Anyway, this counts as a “bad experience with that group” (which is not the same as “this group didn’t give me a part”), so I’m not likely to give them another chance. 

That experience led me to a question: was I, in fact, any good?  The past five years, I was the “Narrator of choice” by a local theatre group, but narrating is not the same thing as acting.  Not long before, a friend had pointed me to Hedgerow Theatre, so I checked their web page.  Ah hah!  An acting class!  This sounded like exactly what I needed!

The acting class cost $250 and would take up my Monday evenings.  Normally, I would say “no”.  I could always come up with another use for $250.  And could I really commit to that schedule?  For a nice change, I said “Screw it!  I want to do this . . . for myself!”  In the next ten weeks of this class, I discovered something: maybe I was actually good at this!

In my first class, I had a major role in Neil Simon’s “Rumors”.  The teacher also introduced me to a play called “Equus”, and I had the chance to get on stage and perform the closing monologue from that play.  When I took a second class, I performed in “Laramie Project”.  I had several parts in that, and wound up with some of the greatest monologues.  I played an emergency room doctor talking about treating both the victim and his murderer.  I played a man watching the homecoming parade and describing seeing something that touched him to his soul.  I played Matthew Shepard’s father, standing in front of the court and pleading that the murderer of his son not get the death penalty.  I am taking a third class now, and I have managed to play a scene from “Angels in America”, and I have performed an amazing monologue from Harold Pinter’s “The Caretaker”. 

By the way, during all of these, I repeatedly was turned down from parts all over the place.  The parts I would get weren’t all that major.  At these classes, I’m learning tons about acting, but I am also getting a chance to act.  Perhaps this makes the $250 fee a “vanity fee” -- I’ll pay the money and I’ll perform whatever I want – but I count on the teacher being honest with us about how we are doing.  The simple fact is this: I look too ethnic.  No one will cast me as Aston in “The Caretaker”, yet I have performed my monologue twice.  I’ve thought about how he is feeling, about why he is telling his story.  I sat and pondered how Prior, in “Angels in America”, felt when Louis told him he was leaving . . . and then I performed it and I screamed for him to get out.  Without these classes, I wouldn’t have the chance to play these parts.

$250 isn’t that bad, by the way.  Some theatre companies are free (Barnstormers hasn’t asked me for any money; when I performed in two Hedgerow productions, no one asked me for money).  Some ask for a membership (two Gilbert & Sullivan groups work that way).  Some, however, don’t have much money in the bank and must spend a great deal of time fundraising.  Last summer, I performed in “Godspell” with such a group, and that easily cost me in the vicinity of $200, if not more.