Survival of the Fittest.

It’s a lizard eat lizard world out there. For more pictures and his version of events, check out The Photographer’s blog. More from me later…

Desert Arches, or Sipping on Haterade

This isn’t really theatre related. Except it kind of is. Because everyone needs a vacation. And I’m finally on my vacation now. Which means my blog in on vacation, too. Instead of not writing anything while I take some time off, I thought I’d share parts of my trip (the parts where wireless internet is easily accessible, to be exact).  So, coming at you from the Super 8 in Moab, Utah…

The Photographer and I drove down today from his parents’ house outside Salt Lake City, about four hours…four long, hot hours.  But we made it here…and after I took a wee nap, we checked out Arches National Park. Nothing like a good long hike in the desert to stretch your legs…

I met this lizard on the first part of our hike up to Delicate Arch (3 miles roundtrip, much of it over rock face and all of it without shade…take LOTS of water…LOTS…and Gatorade, aka Haterade, for electrolyte replacements. Seriously, drink…or die. You know, whichever). Anyway, the lizard, we’ll call him Rick, was very patient while I took his photo.

And here is my picture of Delicate Arch. In fact, all of these pictures are mine. Because SOMEONE forgot the USB cable necessary to upload his. Silly, silly boy.  And this makes me sad because there is an awesome picture of me in the middle of the Arch jumping…but you, like me, are going to have to wait.

But here’s proof that he did actually take pictures…check out the mountains in the background. Amazing views…

And here it is from another angle. Pardon the smudges, my camera lens has some scratches. It was amazing how much the shape of things changed just based on where you were in relation. I mean, obviously they change, but it was amazing how much.

These are the windows. North and South, respectively. That boulder between them sticks out really far and you actually can’t see one from the other when you’re up close.

DEAD DESERT TREE! Twisted…

This lovely landmark is called Balanced Rock. Can you figure out why? Apparently what forms all of these things is the erosion of certain layers or types of rock at a greater rate than others. Nature is neat.

Balanced Rock in its surroundings. It’s amazing how much open space there is here in particular and in Utah in general. For a city girl, it’s an interesting change to look around and see nothing for miles but rocks and trees and whatnot. I like it. But let’s be clear, I would straight up lose my mind living out in the wilderness…

And finally…

The only picture of me on my camera. I look a bit, um, wonky? It is, after all, a shadow. So it’s a picture of me taking a picture of my shadow while The Photographer takes a picture of me taking a picture of my shadow. NOT NERDY AT ALL.

So the vacation is lots of fun so far. And this is the first time I’ve been to the desert. It isn’t quite how I expected, but Moab is pretty awesome. On the agenda for tomorrow: river rafting. Apparently we won’t see too much white water on the trip we’re doing. But we did decide not to be princesses and to opt for the boat that will require us to paddle. Sadly there will be no pictures for the blog because digital cameras and water really do not mix.

I hope all of you at home in internet-land are well and having fun. And while I’m enjoying exploring new places here, what is your favourite place to visit? Or where would you like to go?

I have a list as long as my arm…

BFGeez: Surprised Alien Face Edition

The other day a few of my fellow Tweeters commented on my wonderful Twitter avatar and just how adorable it is (thanks, guys!). I had been thinking of doing a series or something on the blog here and I’m really excited because I finally have access to all my old pictures again (transferred to the new laptop). So at the risk of being a little bit vain, I thought I’d share some of them with you. On a regular-ish basis. Because I make a lot of ridiculous faces. Like, A LOT. And it’s my blog so I can do that. Plus, I just like pictures.

Anyway, without further ado, here is this week’s instalment:

This is me at the pub post-show in the second week of this wonderful experience. I was really excited to be done for the night and there may have been a pint of Guinness involved. I look a bit alien-ish.

All my most ridiculous pictures are somehow related to theatre, I swear. I am usually a little ball of energy, adrenaline, and ridiculousness after any show.

Of course, I also do this in front of the mirror on basically a daily basis…

My first encounter with a previously unknown blog reader.

Thursday night was…funny. It’s a good thing I can laugh at myself, otherwise this whole “being an actor” thing would probably make me cry. Frequently. How very Strasberg that would be…(and I can say that, I bawled my eyes out studied there for long enough…)

I went to my 10:30 PM audition and I really think that the best thing you can possibly do at 10:30 PM in front of people who have been watching countless auditions all day is be fun (well, and good, obviously). It’s called “play,” after all. And fun I am. And fun they were. But my favourite moment was our discussion of my resume (and seeing all my Shakespeare credits highlighted, methinks I probably need to start branching out…) and my latest production, the Twelfth Night…

One of my Twelfth Night castmates had auditioned earlier in the day and told the panel all about the production: the who, what, when, where, and how…but apparently one of them hadn’t been present for this. So Lovely Lady 1 told me to tell Lovely Lady 2 about the show…

Simple enough. I start giving my version of the who, what, when, where, and how, and all of a sudden Lovely Lady 2 gets this look of recognition on her face and blurts out, “OH, YOU’RE A BLOGGER!”

My reaction to this was half laugh, half cringe, a big  wow-someone-is-actually-reading-this (other than Sterling, HI STERLING!) and, “Yes, yes I am…”

So Lovely Lady 1 asks 2 how she knew that. Obviously, because I blogged about playing Maria in Twelfth Night. Which of course made me think about some of the things I blogged about Twelfth Night. And whether or not I should have blogged them…Fortunately, both Lovely Ladies were quite wonderful and fun and therefore this did not become the big awkward fest it might’ve been…

But it did all make me think on my long walk home about what I’m doing here on the interwebs. It’s inevitable that if I keep writing about these things and keep auditioning that I’m going to get “bloganized” (which is “blog” + “recognized” in case you didn’t catch it. Thanks for that, @magicalmudge) now and then. And I’m okay with that. I have a policy about not saying things behind people’s backs that I wouldn’t say to their faces. And obviously The Starving Artist here is only half the story—my half. As is any blog, really…so take it with a grain of salt…

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I started this blog because I was frustrated with what I perceived to be a lack of blogs/real stories about actors just starting out. Especially locally. I wanted to share my journey in the hopes that it might teach other people something and that they, in turn, might teach me something by sharing their stories. So far it’s going reasonably well. Plus, let’s face it, this is cheaper than therapy!

But if my mission is our mutual education (and it is) I think I have a responsibility to my readers (and seriously, if you’re reading, leave me a comment so I can properly say hello, please) and to myself to be as honest about my life as a theatre artist as possible. Because not being honest about the situation is not helpful to any of us. Honesty is educational. And, well, my candour just makes it more fun. But I do promise to do it all in the most fair and respectful way possible because, really, it is only my side of the story and I’m certainly not here to make anyone look and/or feel bad.

In the end, it was a nice audition night. And hopefully it will result in another show, but whether or not it does, it was nice to be reminded (as I frequently am these days) that there are all kinds of great people out there in the Toronto theatre community. And it was also nice to feel just a little more sure of myself, both in the virtual world and in the real one…

Dress-ing the part.

I have another audition tonight. At 10:30. Which is kind of late. But since I don’t function well early in the day, maybe this will be a good thing. I figure it can’t possibly be worse…knock on wood.

This evening’s audition is for yet another Shakespeare play (sensing a theme?). One that I really want to be in some day. Hopefully, you know, now. That would be nice. But we’ll see how this audition goes. Monologue required, but I’m pretty comfortable with mine at this point. I actually even have fun doing it. And hopefully that translates…

But the reason I’m auditioning at 10:30 at night is because they apparently had way more people submit than they originally expected. Which means a lot of competition (although I hate thinking of it that way). Which means making use of every opportunity to distinguish myself and to really make them see me in the play (and hopefully in the part I want). This is something you should do at every audition, but it’s all the more important when you know you’re up against stiff competition. And the beauty of Shakespeare versus all others is that you can probably go in with some idea of what to expect. By which I mean, wear a dress. Or a skirt. Unless you’re a boy. In which case, wear pants. Although, Shakespeare did appreciate cross-dressing…but I digress.

It might sound silly, but if you think about it, most females in Shakespeare (or all of classical theatre, really) didn’t wear pants. Or, at least, they don’t start out wearing pants…I’ll concede that maybe you can get away with it if you’re trying to play Viola or Rosalind or any other heroine who dressed up as a boy. But even those heroines are dressed as women at some point in the play. It baffles me to see actresses at classical auditions wearing jeans. And I have seen it a lot. Yes, there are a lot of modern dress productions (and I love them…) but chances are Juliet, Ophelia, Miranda, Hero, Marina, Perdita, et al. probably still won’t be in pants. Let alone jeans.

It isn’t necessarily wrong and it’s such a small thing, but it just makes it that much easier to see you as an actress in a period play if you help them by wearing a dress. Even Michael Mayer, the director of Spring Awakening on Broadway, once told a class I was in that without fail the women who showed up to audition for him wearing dresses or skirts were always easier to envision within the world of the play. They had a much higher success rate than their pants-wearing counterparts. Ultimately, of course, casting for them was about talent (as it should be). So wearing pants didn’t keep anyone from being cast (because that would be absurd), but wearing a dress actually helped some actresses land the role.

So it’s a small thing and it’s kind of silly, but it’s also really easy. And if it might help to give you an edge (and it certainly won’t hurt you), why wouldn’t you do it? Also, most of Shakespeare’s fun romantic heroines are about 14. And most actresses who play them are not. The right dress or skirt can also help to age you down in a way that jeans never will. Another bonus.

Now the only hard part left, which dress should I wear?

Me in a dress. On set for Film Production Class. I think I’m PAing. Circa 2007.

Update: This was the most on time audition I've ever attended, so I didn't get to wait with/study the masses (Yay!) but I did get to see the girl before me and the one after. And they were both wearing pants. Just saying...

Muskoka, film, and making my own work…

The view from my dock on Muldrew Lake.

Today I had lunch with a friend who makes films. Because we’ve been saying, “Hey, we should do something…” for at least two years now and that “something” has yet to materialize. We just haven’t both been in the right place at the right time. Until now.

We’re both feeling a bit artistically stagnant at the moment and are in need of something to keep us moving, working, and inspired. He’s got a camera, I act and I have actor friends. Get where I’m going with this?

There is “something” in the works, a little no-budget collaborative project we can both learn something from. We’re hoping for funny and character-driven. And we’re going about it in a different kind of way. My last show really drove home the importance and value of cast bonding, collaboration, and using everyone’s various talents to their fullest. As such, we’re planning to take ourselves and anyone else who cares to participate up to my lovely cottage for a few days. And we’re going to burn things, brainstorm, swim, get creative, drink beer, and film. Hopefully we’ll come up with something cool. And at the very least, we’re bound to have fun. If you’re a Toronto-based actor and you want to play, too, leave a comment. Seriously.

I’ve also contacted my sister, The Writer, to see if she can come up with some ideas for us. Because she’s hilarious. And she has a blog now. Someday she’s going to write a book like Running With Scissors and embarrass our whole dysfunctional family. But without a doubt it will be highly entertaining. And maybe I can play myself when it gets turned into a movie.

So that’s just one project currently underway (there’s a theatre one with my new Best Friend that I refuse to talk about for fear of jinxing it). Good to know that several months later I am finally taking the advice of that smart guy at Praxis and creating my own work. I have to say, this feels good.

 I did this on my dock one night with a flashlight and a long exposure. I think it’s kind of awesome.

Best Google Search Used to Find My Blog

"a quote to show that sir andrew and sir toby create are good frineds in twelfth night?"

Thank you for this, Google Analytics. Copy-pasted for the record, did not touch the spelling. Special. Now I want to go enter random words into Google to see what leads me back here…hmmm.

Social awkwardness: I think the internet has robbed me of the ability to function face to face…

Sunday I auditioned. Before noon. For and with a really smart, cool group of individuals. Who know where to find this blog (hi) so I’m not going to talk too much about it, especially since what I’m interested in talking about really has nothing to do with the actual audition. In a nutshell, I managed not to psych myself out, to be present, to participate creatively, and even to have fun. I like them and I really want to know all of them. But I walked away completely frustrated. With myself.

After much thought and a careful cataloguing of all my symptoms, I have diagnosed myself with a serious and persistent case of shrinking violet-itis. And it certainly reared its ugly head at this audition. Which is completely ridiculous and, well, frustrating. Also, it’s completely by my own invention. I’ve discovered a whole new form of self-sabotage for myself.

Basically, what happens to me (and this audition isn’t the only time it’s happened, just the most recent occurrence) is that I come into a group of people where I don’t really know anyone, I only know them well enough to know I want to know them better, if that makes sense... anyway, they’re people I admire or respect or am maybe just a little bit in awe of…and I freeze up. Because I don’t know what to say or how to start a conversation or whatever. I get all shy and reserved and awkward. Which makes me freeze up even more because I’ve never been shy or reserved or awkward (socially speaking…there are many other kinds of awkward that I am an expert in) in my life and I don’t know how to handle it. Because it isn’t me. Except that apparently lately it is. I feel like I’ve completely lost my ability to articulate anything when I’m talking to people, which is so foreign to me that I don’t know what to do with it. Or how to fix it.

As a sidenote, my mom loves to tell the story of when I started French Immersion in SK. Apparently I was sick for a year. I say apparently because I was five and don’t remember. It’s all hearsay. Her theory on this is that I was so traumatized by suddenly having been robbed of my ability to communicate…because everyone was speaking a different language…that I made myself ill. This feels like an encore to that. Only minus the getting sick part. So far. Back to my point…

Eventually I end up frustrated because this stiff, unnatural version of myself that I become in these situations isn’t me. I don’t recognize myself and I would bet that no one I know outside of these moments would either. It isn’t an accurate representation of who I am as a person, or as an actress, in the case of this audition. So it’s sort of an acting problem, but I’m more bothered by it as a personal problem. It isn’t conducive to making new theatre friends. And it’s frustrating. And there is nothing more frustrating than being frustrated. Which is where I’ve been festering for the last several days.

An acting teacher once told me that “frustration is just anger without energy.” He was trying to demonstrate that playing frustration is impossible/not a strong choice. I think it’s a wonderful example of how acting lessons can cross over into real life. If you’ve ever been frustrated by something, you probably get what I’m saying. So my frustration needs some energy. Which is what I’ve been giving it for the last few days by not blaming all my issues on lack of sleep and having to be up and functional before noon on a Sunday (although I’m sure those are contributing factors to the awkward). And now I’m officially mad at myself for being so ridiculous. And in such an un-fun way. Hopefully the anger will propel me toward the solution…I’ll let you know.

Theatre, the Irish, and Beer: MacKenzieRo and bedbound

This was originally intended for elsewhere, but I’m posting it here now. I already blogged a bit about bedbound here. You can also find stellar reviews in The Globe and Mail, The Toronto Star, Eye Weekly, and NOW. And if you haven’t seen it yet, what are you waiting for?

Last week I combined three of my great loves (theatre, the Irish, and beer) into one awe-inspiring night out.  I was privileged to attend the opening night of MacKenzieRo’s bedbound and to schmooze with its stars after the show.  Not only was it a beautiful piece of theatre, but it was one of the friendliest, most generous casts I have had the pleasure of encountering.  This is without a doubt a show to see and a company to watch.  Here’s why:

In Enda Walsh’s bedbound a father and daughter share a tiny bed.   Lying in filth and squalor, both father and daughter talk incessantly, searching through their separate existences to finally find each other in a poignant moment of redemption.  He uses words to re-enact his glory days as the furniture king of Cork.  She uses them to keep the overwhelming silence in her head at bay.  Lyrical, gut-wrenching, comical, coarse, and heart-breaking, this is a play that grabs hold of its audience from the first words and never lets go until the last breath.  In this production, it is performed to perfection, with deft, warmth, and spirit, by Richard Greenblatt and Cathy Murphy and flawlessly directed by the talented Autumn Smith.  It is not for the faint of heart.  Neither is MacKenzieRo, the company currently producing the Canadian premiere at the Tarragon Studio Upstairs.

MacKenzieRo, an independent, artist-run company, was started in 2003 by Autumn Smith and Cathy Murphy with an eye toward producing theatre that spoke to their shared Irish heritage.  Having know each other since they were but “young wans,” both are second generation Irish Canadian and MacKenzieRo is actually a combination of the names of one of Autumn’s Irish grandparents and her family name in County Antrim.  Though they are fans of all kinds of classical and contemporary theatre, when it comes to their own work they’ve known since the beginning that their focus would be on the “in-yer-face contemporary Irish playwrights who challenge artists and audiences with scripts that are provocative, intimate, and psychologically demanding.”  Having both studied in London, England, their exposure to the Irish theatre was extensive and inspiring.  As Autumn, MacKenzieRo’s Artistic Director, puts it, “It was probably the original Irish production of The Weir that did us in.  We both caught the Royal Court production in the late 1990s.”  Thus, a company was born.

They started out following in the tradition of the pub-theatres of Ireland and the UK, producing at Rowers Pub in Toronto’s Annex neighbourhood.  Their interest was in exploring the historic idea of the Public House as the centre of the community, a shared space and meeting place for local voices, and in using this unique space as an intersection for theatre and community.  Autumn approached Rowers in 2004 when MacKenzieRo produced The Weir at The Fringe, “It was a cold call--I just went in and pitched the idea of a play about a pub, in a pub.  They loved the idea and gave us their upstairs room for three consecutive Fringes.” 

While they have since moved away from producing their work in pubs (Toronto lacks any true pub theatres: real pub theatres are fully equipped black box space above or connected to pubs) as their work has matured and their production values have changed, MacKenzieRo has remained true to their roots.  Now with each production they connect with a local Irish pub and encourage their audiences to come enjoy a pint with the cast post-show--for bedbound they’ve teamed up with the Pour House and I can assure you they’re the kind of people with whom you want to have a beer.

As they’ve grown up, they’ve come to see themselves as Toronto’s professional Irish Repertory Theatre.  With this comes a commitment to introducing plays not yet well-known to Canadian audiences: MacKenzieRo was the first Toronto company to produce Enda Walsh’s DISCO PIGS (to much critical acclaim) and bedbound is a Canadian premiere.  These Irish works are an important part of the Toronto theatre landscape not because they are saying things that our Canadian playwrights are not, but because they are saying them differently, in ways that we are not.  For Enda Walsh, “he crashes and bruises the air with his words.”  The Irish have a grasp on language unique to themselves but still accessible and enriching to our Canadian experience and culture.

What I most connect with in their vision of theatre and what I think bedbound accomplished particularly well is their desire to create experiential theatre.  It is not enough to MacKenzieRo that their audience show up and sit there, they want them to really experience the production.  They’re here to challenge us. With bedbound, this means creating an intimacy that doesn’t ever allow the audience to disengage: “This is closer-than-comfort stuff, befitting of Walsh’s in-yer-face style.”  This theatre insists on an audience that is present as an active witness.  Autumn shares, “When I go to the theatre, I want something to shift in me.”  However, she is quick to add that she prefers the audience not to look to the production for all the answers.  MacKenzieRo has figured out that the best theatre is the one in which artists and audiences leave still questioning, still wondering, “still figuring it all out.”

And it’s in that frame of mind that I walked away from bedbound and from my first encounter with MacKenzieRo, still thinking, still questioning but doing both with a greater appreciation for the vibrancy of Toronto’s independent theatre scene.  When I asked Autumn what her hopes were for the future of MacKenzieRo, she answered, “Well, if I win the lottery, I am building a beautiful gastro pub run by my dear friend who is a chef.  And on top will be a fully equipped black box.”  For more from MacKenzieRo, I’ll buy her the ticket.

bedbound plays from now until May 17, 2009 at Tarragon Studio Upstairs, 30 Bridgman Ave. 8PM (2:30 Sundays) Tickets: $20, Sundays PWYC Box Office: 416.531.1827 tickets.tarragontheatre.com

Forecast: Anxiety with a strong chance of scattered ridiculous antics

I have two auditions next week.  Both of them are really f&%^ing awesome.  And I’m actually excited.  As opposed to nauseous.  Which would’ve been my feeling two or three months ago.  I think we’ll call that progress.

I’m not spilling any details right now.  But there are three possible outcomes:

1) Nothing. Other than that I go to two more auditions. But this is a boring outcome. So let’s ignore it.

2) I’ll be in another play! Or maybe two!! Let’s keep our fingers crossed…

3) I’ll do something ridiculous and either embarrass myself or just provide you all with yet another example of what not to do.  In which case we’ll all learn something and have a good laugh.

I suppose there’s a possibility that both 2 and 3 could happen in concert…which would leave us with the most potential for fun and stories and learning, wouldn’t it?  Well, rest assured, I’ll keep you posted.