It's been a while since I've posted. Too long, actually. It's difficult to keep up an acting blog when one isn't acting or even auditioning.
There's been a lack of new developments that leaves me feeling stalled. I feel like I'm in a rut. There are times when I feel absolutely empowered to take control of my destiny. That feeling has been more elusive lately. Optimism and empowerment go hand in hand, but they're not the same thing. When I feel optimistic, I feel lucky. I feel like I can make it as a professional actor. I feel like I can audition for shows and be cast. When I feel empowered, I feel like I can make things happen for myself even when they don't happen naturally. Maybe I won't get cast, but I can put on a cabaret or make a movie or do something else to create opportunity for myself. When I feel empowered, I am motivated to work hard on what is in my control.
I haven't been feeling very optimistic or empowered recently.
But I keep plugging away at things, and I feel good about those. I stretch every day to improve my flexibility. I can almost do the splits (left side only) now. My fall dance class was excellent, and I'm going to take the same class again this coming semester. I am continuing with my weekly voice lessons. I asked Adam for a digital voice recorder, and I got one. So I will be able to record my voice lessons and work on them between lessons. Putting in that extra work will be very good for me, I know.
Onward and (hopefully) upward!
Showing posts with label lessons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lessons. Show all posts
Monday, December 10, 2007
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Action: Voice Lessons
I'm continuing with voice lessons — which, phrased like that, has a way of sounding less useful than it is. I think it's like exercising as opposed to a lesson in the sense of learning something new. It's not that I go in and he teaches me how to sing. I already know how to sing. It's about developing my singing voice and becoming a stronger singer.
The belting challenge continues to be interesting. For the most part, I'm not doing a pure belt but am doing a belt-mix. And that might be just what my voice does. My teacher doesn't want to "put pressure" on me or my voice, trying to get a true belt instead of a belt-mix. He says my belt-mix is "terrific" and that he kills himself trying to get people to do (mixing) what I'm doing naturally. So, yay!
I also might have some opportunities coming up through my voice lessons: to take part in a cabaret and/or to take an auditioning workshop from an NYC agent.
The belting challenge continues to be interesting. For the most part, I'm not doing a pure belt but am doing a belt-mix. And that might be just what my voice does. My teacher doesn't want to "put pressure" on me or my voice, trying to get a true belt instead of a belt-mix. He says my belt-mix is "terrific" and that he kills himself trying to get people to do (mixing) what I'm doing naturally. So, yay!
I also might have some opportunities coming up through my voice lessons: to take part in a cabaret and/or to take an auditioning workshop from an NYC agent.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Action: Reading
I have finished reading A Challenge for the Actor by Uta Hagen, and I also read A Practical Handbook for the Actor. The two couldn't be more different. And I like that because I think my preferred acting style lies somewhere in the middle.
The title of the second book is such a turnoff. Acting isn't supposed to be practical; it's supposed to be creative. The title makes acting seem so boring. And the approach to acting in the book kind of is. It suggests using substitutions because "you will never be able to believe that you are the character you are playing." I suppose that's true strictly speaking. But I think the point of acting is the willing suspension of disbelief. Really believing I am a certain character might not happen, but I don't have to remind myself that I'm not that character, either. The book also dismisses feelings/emotions. I think there's room for feelings/emotions, but I agree with the main reasoning against feelings. If you're relying on feelings to play a scene, they might not be there for you. And if you think you have to "feel" a certain way, a) it's presupposing an emotional state instead of being in the moment and b) you will "fail" and have nowhere to do if those feelings aren't occurring. Instead, having a strong sense of purpose gives rise to natural character, action and emotion with the flexibility of being in the moment. There are some gems of wisdom I can draw from the book, while dismissing much of the rest of it as being too "practical" and detached for my tastes.
Uta Hagen's book I found to be a fascinating mixed bag. I intend to read it again and make notes of things I like and dislike. Some of it I found to be overly self-indulgent, pretentious or irrelevant. I've never been one to think an actor has to know the character's name and complete biography in order to play a role. Or does it really matter if I'm able to convince myself (using sensory exercises) that a stove is really hot? Other aspects of her book are extremely analytical and illuminating. Physicality can be such a tricky thing for any actor. Her dissections of things such as eye contact or visual focus and the act of waiting (not doing nothing, but doing a dozen little things) make me so excited to get onstage again and use those tools to feel less awkward with blocking, etc.
The title of the second book is such a turnoff. Acting isn't supposed to be practical; it's supposed to be creative. The title makes acting seem so boring. And the approach to acting in the book kind of is. It suggests using substitutions because "you will never be able to believe that you are the character you are playing." I suppose that's true strictly speaking. But I think the point of acting is the willing suspension of disbelief. Really believing I am a certain character might not happen, but I don't have to remind myself that I'm not that character, either. The book also dismisses feelings/emotions. I think there's room for feelings/emotions, but I agree with the main reasoning against feelings. If you're relying on feelings to play a scene, they might not be there for you. And if you think you have to "feel" a certain way, a) it's presupposing an emotional state instead of being in the moment and b) you will "fail" and have nowhere to do if those feelings aren't occurring. Instead, having a strong sense of purpose gives rise to natural character, action and emotion with the flexibility of being in the moment. There are some gems of wisdom I can draw from the book, while dismissing much of the rest of it as being too "practical" and detached for my tastes.
Uta Hagen's book I found to be a fascinating mixed bag. I intend to read it again and make notes of things I like and dislike. Some of it I found to be overly self-indulgent, pretentious or irrelevant. I've never been one to think an actor has to know the character's name and complete biography in order to play a role. Or does it really matter if I'm able to convince myself (using sensory exercises) that a stove is really hot? Other aspects of her book are extremely analytical and illuminating. Physicality can be such a tricky thing for any actor. Her dissections of things such as eye contact or visual focus and the act of waiting (not doing nothing, but doing a dozen little things) make me so excited to get onstage again and use those tools to feel less awkward with blocking, etc.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Action: Dance Class
I wrestled for a while about which dance class to register for: level one or level two. I figured level two might be a bit too hard, and that level one would be too easy.
I think I was right. (I don't know how easy level one is. But it was tagged as being appropriate for beginners.)
I signed up for level two because I'd rather push myself and challenge myself. I'm sure I could get something out of either class. But I think I'll get more out of level two. The only problem would be if it were so hard I just couldn't possibly keep up.
The class is quite challenging for me. And I think that's a good thing!
Dancing (for me) is made up of three things: learning the moves, executing the moves and expression. Generally, I find learning the moves to be the biggest challenge for me. So in last night's class, I could do all the moves — there were no splits or backbends or things I physically couldn't accomplish — but mastering the sequence of moves (in time with the music) was the part that challenged me.
Next week we're adding to the dance we started learning. So I'll practice the moves between now and then.
I think I was right. (I don't know how easy level one is. But it was tagged as being appropriate for beginners.)
I signed up for level two because I'd rather push myself and challenge myself. I'm sure I could get something out of either class. But I think I'll get more out of level two. The only problem would be if it were so hard I just couldn't possibly keep up.
The class is quite challenging for me. And I think that's a good thing!
Dancing (for me) is made up of three things: learning the moves, executing the moves and expression. Generally, I find learning the moves to be the biggest challenge for me. So in last night's class, I could do all the moves — there were no splits or backbends or things I physically couldn't accomplish — but mastering the sequence of moves (in time with the music) was the part that challenged me.
Next week we're adding to the dance we started learning. So I'll practice the moves between now and then.
Action: Voice Lessons
Some voice lessons feel more productive than others. (Even the ones that don't feel productive I trust to have a cumulative effect.)
Yesterday's lesson felt productive.
Having sung for years in my head voice (even when I thought I was belting), it is a challenge for me to learn how to belt.
My voice teacher says I have a nice belt — when I can get the belt. He also says I have a very good mix, which he says sounds very similar to my belt (and that is a "tremendous asset").
So the goal is to develop those three parts of my voice: belt, mix and legit (head voice). I want to be able to really feel the difference between each and have control over when I use them. (Right now, that's the challenge: When I'm trying to belt, I'm often actually mixing and sometimes even using my head voice.)
Yesterday's lesson felt like I made some progress toward that end.
Voice lessons have really helped me so far — and I look forward to improving even more.
Yesterday's lesson felt productive.
Having sung for years in my head voice (even when I thought I was belting), it is a challenge for me to learn how to belt.
My voice teacher says I have a nice belt — when I can get the belt. He also says I have a very good mix, which he says sounds very similar to my belt (and that is a "tremendous asset").
So the goal is to develop those three parts of my voice: belt, mix and legit (head voice). I want to be able to really feel the difference between each and have control over when I use them. (Right now, that's the challenge: When I'm trying to belt, I'm often actually mixing and sometimes even using my head voice.)
Yesterday's lesson felt like I made some progress toward that end.
Voice lessons have really helped me so far — and I look forward to improving even more.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Action: Reading
I am currently reading Uta Hagen's A Challenge for the Actor. It is already fascinating stuff. She is brilliant and imaginative and liberal, and just the sort of person I think I am or wish I could be.
Most important, 60 pages in, it is really making me think. Some of the stuff I disagree with, and I think part of that is because I'm still trying to find my own style as an actor. She comments frequently on the differences between "formalistic" (outside-in) and "realistic" (inside-out) actors, wholly preferring the latter.
Intellectually, I've always wanted to be that second kind of actor. I've always wanted to have an imagination so deep that I could be completely in every scene. I've always wanted to feel those emotions fully, to truly be grieved or amused or angry, etc. when my character is feeling it. And I want to be spontaneous instead of static.
And, I think, at times, I do achieve that. But...
I also think there's a lot to be said for outside-in. I've known too many actors who claim to really be feeling what their character is going through — Interestingly, that is usually during scenes of grief, turmoil or angst. And people seldom seem to brag about truly feeling happy when their characters are happy. — and despite their tremendous "feeling," they are communicating nothing. Their faces are blank. They are suffering inside, but they aren't showing it. I find that kind of acting to be self-indulgent and worthless.
The ideal, of course, is to really feel in such away that you are able to let those emotions loose on the stage and behave in character. But if there's a choice to be made between really feeling while outwardly showing nothing and not feeling while outwardly communicating that feeling, I'll choose the latter.
And the element of believing in the truth of the scene and characters can have positives and negatives. Uta Hagen recounts an anecdote of Laurence Olivier (a formalistic actor) playing a part with "incredible involvement and spontaneity" and then saying "I don't like that kind of acting; I didn't know what I was doing." I agree. I've had that happen in a couple cases. I was so involved in the scene that I really was feeling what my character was feeling, that I believed I was in this world and not on a stage. It happened without my planning or trying for it. I embraced it and reveled in it; it felt amazing. But I have no idea whether I communicated with the audience. I have no idea whether my inward belief transferred out. That is the trick: transferring that inward belief and feeling into outward communication (expressions, movements, vocal tone, etc.).
Most important, 60 pages in, it is really making me think. Some of the stuff I disagree with, and I think part of that is because I'm still trying to find my own style as an actor. She comments frequently on the differences between "formalistic" (outside-in) and "realistic" (inside-out) actors, wholly preferring the latter.
Intellectually, I've always wanted to be that second kind of actor. I've always wanted to have an imagination so deep that I could be completely in every scene. I've always wanted to feel those emotions fully, to truly be grieved or amused or angry, etc. when my character is feeling it. And I want to be spontaneous instead of static.
And, I think, at times, I do achieve that. But...
I also think there's a lot to be said for outside-in. I've known too many actors who claim to really be feeling what their character is going through — Interestingly, that is usually during scenes of grief, turmoil or angst. And people seldom seem to brag about truly feeling happy when their characters are happy. — and despite their tremendous "feeling," they are communicating nothing. Their faces are blank. They are suffering inside, but they aren't showing it. I find that kind of acting to be self-indulgent and worthless.
The ideal, of course, is to really feel in such away that you are able to let those emotions loose on the stage and behave in character. But if there's a choice to be made between really feeling while outwardly showing nothing and not feeling while outwardly communicating that feeling, I'll choose the latter.
And the element of believing in the truth of the scene and characters can have positives and negatives. Uta Hagen recounts an anecdote of Laurence Olivier (a formalistic actor) playing a part with "incredible involvement and spontaneity" and then saying "I don't like that kind of acting; I didn't know what I was doing." I agree. I've had that happen in a couple cases. I was so involved in the scene that I really was feeling what my character was feeling, that I believed I was in this world and not on a stage. It happened without my planning or trying for it. I embraced it and reveled in it; it felt amazing. But I have no idea whether I communicated with the audience. I have no idea whether my inward belief transferred out. That is the trick: transferring that inward belief and feeling into outward communication (expressions, movements, vocal tone, etc.).
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Action
I'm feeling a bit trapped. Okay, I'm feeling a lot trapped. My sadness is maybe 10% related to Urinetown being over — and 90% related to nothing new beginning. It's like everything came screeching to a halt. (Or, rather, that with the end of the show, I realized how stalled I am with regard to my goals.)
It used to be that every few months I'd have a bout of "why am I not pursuing an acting career?" Those bouts would last about 2-3 days. And then I'd answer the question: Because I don't want to struggle financially in the big city and possibly never get anywhere. Because I don't want to give up a nice, comfortable home and great friends for so much less.
It's now been several months (at least six) ... and that question hasn't gone away. The pragmatic answer doesn't satisfy anymore. More and more I've come to feel that I can't ever really be satisfied and happy in my life if I'm not pursuing what I know I want more than anything. More and more I resent my job for not being what I want it to be.
I am happiest when I'm performing on stage. I thought I might experience a bit of stage fright during Urinetown because I felt like people (audiences) were judging me. But I never felt that. It only ever felt right and perfect and exhilirating. This is where I belong. This is where I feel happiest. This is where I feel simultaneously the most comfortable and the most energized.
Here's my list of things I can do to take action:
Continue voice lessons
Take dance class
Read plays
See more plays
Read some acting books
Save up money and pay down debt
Take acting class/lesson(s) if possible
Write a play/movie/skit/musical
Put together a cabaret
Get headshots taken
Prepare audition materials (monologues and songs)
It used to be that every few months I'd have a bout of "why am I not pursuing an acting career?" Those bouts would last about 2-3 days. And then I'd answer the question: Because I don't want to struggle financially in the big city and possibly never get anywhere. Because I don't want to give up a nice, comfortable home and great friends for so much less.
It's now been several months (at least six) ... and that question hasn't gone away. The pragmatic answer doesn't satisfy anymore. More and more I've come to feel that I can't ever really be satisfied and happy in my life if I'm not pursuing what I know I want more than anything. More and more I resent my job for not being what I want it to be.
I am happiest when I'm performing on stage. I thought I might experience a bit of stage fright during Urinetown because I felt like people (audiences) were judging me. But I never felt that. It only ever felt right and perfect and exhilirating. This is where I belong. This is where I feel happiest. This is where I feel simultaneously the most comfortable and the most energized.
Here's my list of things I can do to take action:
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Learning is Power
Why do actors and others take classes? It's probably because it's something — possibly the only thing — they can have in their control.
One of the best ways to learn is by doing, but that's not always an option. So, I sign up for lessons instead of stagnating. I started vocal lessons in early March. And I sent in registration for an "acting through song" class this summer. (I have yet to see if I am actually registered or if the class is full.)
It feels good to be actually doing something. That's an end to itself. And hopefully, it will also be a means to an end (i.e. getting cast in shows).
The other aspect of this (other than the desire to keep moving and doing) is the realization that I might have to work for what I want. I know it sounds ridiculous that I'm just now realizing this. It's primarily because acting and singing never felt like work that I didn't think I had to work at it. This isn't Broadway; it's community theatre. Many people do it just for fun and don't work at it and don't have to. And I know how to sing; I'm a naturally good singer — so why would I need to take singing lessons? But maybe I have to work to improve myself and improve my chances. Maybe, to get what I want, I have to put in some genuine toil.
And what I want is twofold: 1) to gain more opportunities (i.e. being cast) and 2) to improve myself and learn for the sake of learning, which I hope will boost my confidence and the amount of joy I take from my art.
One of the best ways to learn is by doing, but that's not always an option. So, I sign up for lessons instead of stagnating. I started vocal lessons in early March. And I sent in registration for an "acting through song" class this summer. (I have yet to see if I am actually registered or if the class is full.)
It feels good to be actually doing something. That's an end to itself. And hopefully, it will also be a means to an end (i.e. getting cast in shows).
The other aspect of this (other than the desire to keep moving and doing) is the realization that I might have to work for what I want. I know it sounds ridiculous that I'm just now realizing this. It's primarily because acting and singing never felt like work that I didn't think I had to work at it. This isn't Broadway; it's community theatre. Many people do it just for fun and don't work at it and don't have to. And I know how to sing; I'm a naturally good singer — so why would I need to take singing lessons? But maybe I have to work to improve myself and improve my chances. Maybe, to get what I want, I have to put in some genuine toil.
And what I want is twofold: 1) to gain more opportunities (i.e. being cast) and 2) to improve myself and learn for the sake of learning, which I hope will boost my confidence and the amount of joy I take from my art.
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