Rut

It feels kind of official.  I’m in a rut.  I don’t feel all that sad about it, though.  Disappointing, as always.  Maybe I’ve let the cynicism come through, but I have come to accept it as part of the job.  I will be in ruts, frequently, and I will feel like I can’t get work.  It doesn’t mean I’m a bad actor.  It doesn’t mean that I’m not trying.  It just is.

I have been longing deep within my heart to do another musical for the past year.  I got an audition for one (finally!) last week, and did all the prep I could for it.  I broke down those sides just like I would for any film or TV script, I practiced, I memorized, I did vocal warmups, and I made choices on the song and dialog that I thought were quite nice.  I felt great about the audition, I could tell the CD was on board, and I felt pretty certain I’d receive a callback today.

Nothing.

And so it goes.  I decided that I was slacking in my acting class and I became very disappointed in how I was shortchanging myself, my teacher, and the rest of my class with my lack of preparation.  So I apologized to the teacher and gave him my word that I’d come back prepared and the rest of this month he would see me on my game.  On Monday, after I aced that musical audition, I finished my prep for class and got there on time, ready to roll.  It was a great class.  I threw in ideas that others hadn’t considered, I felt great about the scenes I performed, and I knew I did the work to have a successful class.  After we wrapped up, the teacher came to me, hugged me and told me I did a really good job.  I made him proud.

So there you have it.

I am talented. 

I am by no means lazy. 

And yet, even I can’t get called back on a low budget workshop of a musical.

This is L.A.  Welcome to the hustle.

Originality and the actor

As artists, we feel a great need to create our own and find our voice.  Originality is paramount to our feeling of true artistry.  But I’d be willing to bet that most, if not all of us, have borrowed from the greats.  Every performance, every nuance has been informed or helped along by the different experiences we’ve taken part in.  What makes it original is that we’ve borrowed from others, and funneled it through our own POV and experiences, and made something distinct to ourselves.  Michael Caine famously said:

All actors steal certain gestures and behaviors from other actors — but the best actors make these gestures their own.  Steal from the best, and make it your own.

I was reading a book by Dorothy Sayers this morning and though the text is regarding poets, I think it’s universal to the artist.

…It means that in a very real sense poets do sometimes write more greatly than they know; and it also means that every poet’s work enriches not only those to whom he transmits the tradition, but also all those from whom he himself derived it.

Think about that.  Our performances are not only our own creation in this moment in time, but will influence future performances, becoming a brand new original creation.  Thinking in the larger scheme of things, that emits a certain timelessness to what we do.  Brando’s performances were stunning in their time, and now.  But the greater picture is how his performances changed the course of acting history.  It’s rather interesting to think that every time I’m inspired by Winslet’s acting, and I translate that into my own, I’m honoring and enriching not only past performances, but future ones as well.

Entitlement and Hard Work

2 weeks ago I was at a callback for a commercial and I waited as they brought in girl after girl before me, even though I had come in before them, and my call time was earlier.  I waited and watched as one girl came out, then they chased her down the street, and asked her to come in and read for another part, right when I was set to go in.  They did that again for another girl.  I listened as the casting assistant came out with the girl and stood and shot the breeze, exchanged contact info, and generally made best friends with her after her audition.  All while I was waiting to go in.

Finally he looks up and acknowledges me and has me come in, an hour after I’d arrived.  Clients were in the room, as well as the director, as is usual with a lot of commercial callbacks.  They laughed and liked what I did with the first take, then I received around 6 redirects, doing it slightly different each time.  They thanked me for my time, and I walked to the car a little miffed at the wait, how I didn’t “feel” the audition, and how clearly those other girls who were lavished with attention were the choices.  It didn’t help that a fedex truck driver felt it necessary to pull up next to me and whistle while I walked to my car.

Imagine my surprise when, a few days later, I found I booked the job and would be flying to Seattle 3 days later.  I started to feel pretty good about my abilities, assuming that I was so good in the room that I beat out even those other girls, who were clearly the favorites.  I was convinced that I had earned the job until sitting at drinks with the rest of the cast it was revealed that one of the actors was not an actor at all, but a writer, and another it was his first commercial to ever book.  <Cue sad trombone>  It was obvious to me that we were not the cream of the crop, we just happened to strike a chord with the director and clients.  I had not earned this job.

The day of the shoot I had spent the drive to set memorizing my 6 lines.  It was rather easy to just show up, and assume the work was done back when I auditioned and won them over.  After my 45 minutes of shooting was complete, I pondered the work I had just done.  It was not my best work, it wasn’t my most prepared work, and I felt I could’ve done a lot more.  If I had spent the night before running my lines and figuring out different takes.  If I had worked my expressions and variety of looks.  But I didn’t.  And I’m regretful about that.

Everything you do is an expression of your art.  And if just getting the job is the only excellence you strive for, you’re missing a vital component of excellence.  I want to be the actor that exceeds everyone’s expectations.  I want them to say “we knew we liked her in the room, but wow!  She’s even better than we hoped for.”  Because in the end, assuming you’re entitled to a job because you beat out everyone else only sets you up for laziness and mediocrity.  And that’s not what I want to be known for on a set.

So, you didn’t get the part

I’ve written before about the myriad of reasons you might not have been cast, but this weeks experience was a stunning example of how the result of your audition is completely out of your hands.

Please bare with me sounding like a D-bag as I give you some background for this story.

I am no stranger to feeling like I KILLED it in the audition room, then not booking the gig.  This is just another one of the maddening realities of acting.  The following excerpts have been taken verbatim from my own experiences.

commercial callback, circa 2009

CD: “Hey Brittany!  So glad you could come in- you look perfect for the part!  This is the director, Steve.  You ready?”

Brittany: “Sure! Let’s do this!”

<commence scene with dialogue between me and other guy>

(CD is laughing, and making comments.  Director guffaws.)

<end scene>

Steve (director): “That was fantastic!  Seriously, you’re the only one today who nailed this and totally understood the scene.  Loved it!”

I kid you not, he then HIGH FIVED me

(on my way out the door)

CD: (conspiratorially) “Brittany, seriously, thank you so much for coming in for the callback- you saved my ass today.”

Brittany: “You’re so welcome!  Thanks for having me!”

I walked out of that room on cloud nine.  Clearly I nailed that audition and could count the job as mine.  I got a latte at starbucks to celebrate my win….

And then I didn’t book the gig.  Seriously.  They went with someone else.  Which brings me to this weeks stunner.

Sunday I went in for a commercial audition with a creative team that I recently read for before the break.  I was glad they called me in, because that means they liked me last time round, even if I didn’t book the prior gig.  I worked the scene in the car and felt prepared with some funny little buttons and space work.

CD: “Hey Brittany!  So glad you could come in, this is our director, Greg.”

I could tell the mood of the room was laid back and fun, like last time, so I joked around a bit and got to know them more.

Greg (director): “I love your personality.  I don’t think I need to tell you anything before you read, because I get the feeling you’ll show me something I want to see.  So just have fun with it.”

<commence scene with all the ideas I had in the car>

(CD and director are laughing and have huge grins)

<end scene>

CD: “Aha!  See, THAT’S what actors do.  Everyone has been coming in today and blowing it, but you so got this.”

Greg: “I loved it!  Seriously, that was really fun and that’s the best read we’ve seen.  Let’s try it a few different ways, not because I didn’t like it, because I loved what you did, I just want to see what else you can show me.”

Brittany: “Great! Let’s do this!”

<commence scene, end scene>

Greg: “Brittany, thank you so much.  That was amazing, and I loved what you did.  You did great!  I’d love to work with you!”

CD: “So, you’re available Friday for the shoot, right? Just want to make sure.”

Brittany: “Yep!”

CD: “Great, this is a quick turnaround, so you’ll hear from us very soon.  Thanks again, Brittany!  We would love to work with you!”

<commence fist bumps all around>

I left with a big smile and sent this text to my husband:   Totally KILLED it!  Coming home!

I went on with my week, had another audition for another project, and worked on some other things around the house.  Come Thursday, I think “hm, probably should’ve heard back about this job by now if it shoots tomorrow…”

So I sent an email to the CD thanking him again for the audition.  He writes back:

”

Hey Brittany,

Thanks for the note — you are great. The brand decided to go with an actress that has a more ethnic look, but we all loved you for it, in fact we sent your tape to the client. We do a lot of comedy stuff as you can see from our website and really want to work with you the next time we have a role that fits.

“

See?  See?  Sometimes what you do in the audition is great, and you make fans of everyone in the room, but you still don’t get the part because of something that’s entirely out of your hands.  Though I can lay down a sweet rap beat, there is not one picogram of ethnic look in me, and I can’t change that.  But I do know that I will work with these people eventually.  I’m building a community here where we can all trust that we’ll bring our A game and make something good.  And that’s something to rejoice over, even if I didn’t get the part (grumble, grumble) : )

Making It

In the musical I just finished, The Last Five Years, the couple is composed of a struggling musical theatre actress and a highly successful writer.  Through the frequent character analysis I did throughout this run, something became apparent to me about the male.  He was putting timelines on his wife.  Because his own success was overnight, and because he was impatient for her straggling behind, he imposed on her his deadlines, ignoring the fact that everyone is at a different pace.

I don’t know if this occurs in other professions, but I see this in acting all the time.  Just the other night I was chatting with an acquaintance about the improv I do, and she was surprised, saying, “I knew you were trying to make it as an actress, but I didn’t know you performed frequently with improv”.  Trying to make it.  I know you’ve heard it as much as I have.  I’m not offended by this statement, I think it just shows a lack of understanding how this all works.  So let me be clear.

There is no making it.

You either are an actor or you aren’t.  No one says “my sister is trying to make it as a lawyer.”   They just are.  Now, since our work is intermittent and most of our time is spent looking for employment, it’s understandable that it seems like we are “trying to make it”.  But the fact of the matter is, even if we hit that big break, booked a TV show, made a hit movie, or starred on Broadway, that glimpse of success is fleeting.  Because of the way this business works, we don’t get the luxury of continuous employment.  Each job stands alone and none give guarantee of the next.

It’s time for us as artist to own who we are.  We are not struggling actors.  We are not trying to make it as actors.  We just are.  And if you have any pride in what you do, you will be creating all the time, because that is what you are.  A creator.  You’re not waiting for someone to give you a job.  You’re acting because you’re an actor, not because you got a paycheck.  Sometimes, this will result in others putting a price tag on what you do, and paying you for that creation.  Other times it won’t.  This does not negate the fact that you are an actor.  Take pride.  And-

Go Create. 

Something Good

As I’ve been spending this week in the throws of post-show depression, I’ve repeatedly watched the video of our performance and listened to the audio recording.  I am happy and honored to say that we created something truly beautiful, memorable, and high quality.  I am so proud of this being we created.  And I’m so glad that many of my friends, family, and others got to take part in this creation.

I’ve written before about why I think we need art, and after completing this show, I can honestly say that we put something beautiful out into the world and the weight of it feels amazing and surreal.  I don’t know how many times one gets to experience this in their life, but this is monumental.  I am attempting to really embrace the immensity of it all while also giving it its proper mourning.

I hope I get to do this again.  I hope that the creations I put out into the world will again move, inspire and change people.  Because that’s what good art does.  The gravity of meaning for that kind of creation is tremendous.  And I for one would like to carry that burden again.

Excellent!

Anyone else hearing Keanu Reeves right now?  Bill and Ted, anyone?

I’ve been reading lately about integrity and excelling at your chosen profession and I came across this idea from Aristotle:

 

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit. 

 

Wow.  Is your mind buzzing with that thought?  What does that inspire you to do in your day-to-day routine?  For me it says if I’m not giving creative output every single day, I’m no longer grasping for excellence.  I’m just dabbling for sport.  And the ENTP in me won’t allow me to pursue something without the intent of excellence.

What do you do well?  What makes your spirit joyful?  For me, it’s performing.  And that can be anything from a musical on stage in a dimly lit theatre, to a joke being told amongst friends (or poor unsuspecting strangers).  I thrive in the spotlight, and if I want to be habitually excellent, I need to be performing.

Even when in a valley and not getting the work you’d hoped you’d be getting, perform.  Don’t wait for the kickoff.  Start now, every day, unconventionally, inspiringly, and hope-filled.  Then, when you are finally called in to do that commercial, TV episode, film, you aren’t nervously wondering if you can cut it.  You are just doing what you do every day.

Being Excellent.

Mastery

I’ve just finished this book by Robert Greene entitled Mastery.  I found it recommended through a series of great articles on The Art of Manliness and decided that it might help me look at my vocation in a clearer light.  Some of these ideas have been culminating since I read an essay by Dorothy Sayers called “Why Work” that highlights the importance of being the best at what you do and loving what you do because it is your calling, not your job.  (note- I highly recommend the Sayers essay, and the Greene book had some inspiring points, and quite a few things that I’ll be ruminating about for some time, but a lot of the book I found insipid and dull)

I’ve been struggling with these ideas because with acting, so much of your time is spent waiting for an opportunity.  Sure, you can be the most wonderful actor in the world and highly dedicated to excellence, but until someone hires you (which seems in L.A. to be 1000% less often than in Dallas), no one will see that excellence.

Now, I myself fully support making your own work, as evidenced by my self-producing forays here.  This enables you some more control in the type of roles and the timing of work.  But sometimes you’re looking for validation that you’re on the right track.  That you’re pursuing something you’re good at and getting better with time.  Hiring yourself doesn’t quite provide you with that little nod that says “keep doing what you’re doing”.

In a place like L.A., where even the most talented are passed over and gaining employment seems a crapshoot in which the odds are rarely in anyone’s favor, I think one has to have a shift in focus.  Coincidentally, this shift in focus will help you maintain that optimism that Hollywood would love to swallow whole.

I posit that we focus on the work.  Not obtaining the work. 

If the goal is to do what you love, then we should do just that.  Create.  Act.  Inspire.  Be inspired.

Let’s take a practical look at what each focus entails:

Work

• Create characters, stories, conflicting emotions
• Read and become engrossed in a world
• Create a world for someone to experience
• Watch plays, movies, youtube videos, operas and be inspired

Obtaining work

• send postcards to CD’s congratulating them on picking up a series
• do drop offs
• go to SAG CAP workshops
• network at events

I’m not going to argue the validity of spending time on any of these things, because I’m sure we can all agree that the less desirable parts of our work still must be completed.  If you were to ask an actor why they act, I highly doubt they’d list any of the tasks of obtaining work.  It would be centered on the work.

I’m going to try an experiment.  Shifting my focus to the work and the creation and the inspiration.  Being the best at what I love.  And not making that shift so that I can get more work.  Making the shift because it’s what I love to do.  An end in and of itself.  Wanna join me?