For both of my faithful readers, I’ll be visiting Chicago from this coming Tuesday until September 1st.  I got a contract job doing web development, so I’ll be there working during the day.  However, I’d love to meet some of you Chicago theatre people if I can get the chance.

If you’re willing, let me know and I’ll see what I can do about setting up meetings or dinners or theatre visits or whatnot.

I’m pretty excited.  I’ve never been to Chicago, but I’ve always wanted to go!

I got a lot of comments regarding my post on Monday, “Why is NYC the next logical step?”.  Today I’d like to address some other thoughts on the issue.
Alison said,

I agree with Hans’ initial point so, so much. See, New York WAS the next logical step for me - but NOT the ending point, or even the capstone to my theatre career. We’re all striving for something different. And while no one would argue with a starring role, most of us willingly accept it’s a dream and not a reality.  (italics mine)

I disagree.  I DON’T think “most of us” accept that it’s a dream and not a reality.  I think most people our age think they can move to NYC and honest to God get on Broadway within six months.  You’ve learned the harsh reality of an actor’s life in NYC (although I’m pretty sure you already knew that going into it).  The point isn’t taking the NEXT step.  That I can totally understand.  My real question is… why NYC?  Why not Chicago or Asheville, NC or Atlanta?  Why does it HAVE to be NYC?  because Broadway’s there?  I don’t feel that’s a good enough reason.  But then again, like you said, everyone’s got different goals.

Hans said,

As for Scott’s comment: I’ve lived in the Prof’s own town for a couple of years now and am once again considering the very step he questions. The reason is that I’ve now been hired to direct at the professional regional theatre level, but I’m still working at a bar, often full-time. I’m on a new level now, professionally-speaking, and to really take advantage of that perhaps I need to locate myself in one of the major theatre centers of America. Because won’t most professional theatres across the country be more likely to hire someone out of New York than out of a small city in the mountains of Western North Carolina? It’s unfair and more that a little stupid, but the fact remains.

One of Scott’s consistent points is that there’s no need to go to Nylachi to “make it big”.  While that’s true in a sense, and while you make a good point (it’s unfair and more than a little stupid), it follows a certain logic.  Scott is fond of hearkening back to the medieval times, to the Elizabethan period, to commedia dell’arte.  He claims Shakespeare had a tribe, the commedia dell’arte groups were tribes, etc.  That’s true.  Very true.  But where did Shakespeare work?  In the equivalent of Broadway.  Where did the commedia dell’arte groups work?  They toured, often in major population centers.

To even take the analogy further than that, the way Shakespeare’s business model worked was more of a apprentice/master relationship than anything else.  The principal actors got the lead roles, and they apprenticed the youngest members.  Contract members were often brought in to fill in the supporting roles.  Incidentally, the apprentices (who weren’t paid, but were given room and board) often got bigger roles than the contrators, simply because the women were played by the young boys.

In other professions, an apprentice is sent to a master to learn.  These apprentices often come from poorer families in small towns and hamlets, while the master craftsmen are in larger towns and sometimes cities.  A young boy from Asheville, NC might be sent to Atlanta, GA to apprentice to a master carpenter.

In much the same way, moving to a larger area is like starting an apprenticeship or becoming a journeyman.  You can’t stay in your small town forever and still get better at your craft.  I think Hans is making the right choice — but I DO think that he’s doing it for the right reasons.  He’s considering moving to NYC because he’s established himself elsewhere and has been offered a professional gig.  This is majorly different than moving right out of college to NYC.

RebeccaZ said,

And, yes … I might decide to take our company elsewhere based on a lot of different factors (I’m past the age of 25 but still have a bit of wanderlust in me), but I’m glad to say that I gave Chicago a go of it, instead of always wondering what it would be like.

And this is the biggest reason why I plan to move to Chicago at some point in the future.  Not because I expect to make it big (like Alison, I realize that “making it big” is more of a dream than a reality), but because I expect to have a great time in a thriving theatre city and, worst case scenario, I can say “I went to Chicago, gave it a shot, and here I am.”

My biggest thing about NYC is that so many people romanticize it, as Hans said, and are willing to pack up and move to NYC and wait tables and such because society says that if you’re a theatre person you HAVE to go to NYC.  I disagree.  There are tons of other places you can go and get a similar experience:  Chicago, Atlanta, D.C., St. Louis.  I resent the idea that NYC is the only place that actors should go.

When I first started pursuing drama, my father was strongly against it.  Not because he hates theatre, but because he felt like I would never survive in NYC.  I finally sat him down and said, “Dad, I have no desire to move to NYC and ‘try and make it’, so you can rest assured that I’m not going to starve and live out of my car trying to break into Broadway.  If I ever move there, it’ll be because I am reasonably confident that I’ll have steady work and make enough to pay the bills.”  After that (and a few rather good productions I was in), he relented and now he supports my decision.

My father, like millions of other people out there, hear the word “theater” and automatically think NYC.

In my mind, that has to change.

For those not in the know, Devilvet recently directed, starring Don Hall, Dave Goss, and Jen Ellison.  Unfortunately, due to a combination of factors, including the recession, high gas prices, rising unemployment (particularly on my part) and a sad-faced clown in a giant mushroom car who assaulted me on the streets of Atlanta with a giant rubber dong, I was unable to attend this most excellent production.

Fortunately, dv is creating an excellent webcomic, which you can check out at The Mammals, for those of us who were unable to attend.

No, this is not just a plug for dv’s webcomic (it’s great, though, check it out here!)  You see, Devilvet and I were Twittering about artists and our relationship with multimedia.  For those of you who missed it, it was a rather nice conversation.  DV  and I Tweet often, so if you’d like to follow along, go visit Twitter’s webpage and sign in, then visit the Director and Devilvet’s twitter pages and click on the “Follow” button to follow us.  I’ll write another post on Twitter, if you need help finding a decent client.  Or you could just use the website itself.

Where was I?  Oh, right, Elvis..  no, wait, artists.  Artists and penguins.  Multimedia.  Whatever.

So dv and I were discussing this issue and he asked:

what are the possiblities if we as theatre artists get over it and become narrative artists using multi-medium approaches?

To clarify, he’s referring not only to use in live productions but in ADDITION to our live performances.  His webcomic (i’m not plugging this webcomic.  dude, seriously.) is a great example of what he’s talking about.  Recently, I wrote a post regarding “While You Sleep” activities that theatres can do to boost revenue.  What Devilvet is doing with The Mammals is the same thing.  It may not be bringing in revenue, but it’s surely bringing in an audience.

So we chit-chatted about artists and media approaches and ultimately, we (by “we” I mean “I”) decided that this was too good of an idea to let up.  Why let audiences see our art in only one medium?  Why not branch out?  Here’s our conversation:

directorsector @devilvet Yes, technology does aid in that example. I’m pretty good at Photoshop/Illustrator, for instance. Let me put it this way, though

directorsector How many of your theatre friends are good at math? Most think the complicated computer stuff like Photoshop et al at least as tough to learn

devilvet well i think people have to learn skills to survive. Math and Photoshop included.

devilvet anyone who doesnt acquire these skills opens themselves to well being a victim

devilvet I increasing think that the future means that specialization in the arts must end. The truly exceptional artist in the future has to be able to utilize much more than an theatrical talent that comes naturally to them. Working hard at things outside your comfort zone that’s not art. thats life. we need a world with les actors waiting to be cast, and rather more collaborators ready willing and excited to share and participate in narrative storytelling. it wont be about pointing actors to their marks. it will be more involving than that

directorsector @devilvet You’re exactly right. Cant do it alone. So how do we go about cultivating artists who explore the realm outside their comfort zone?

So there we are.  How do we, as artists who want to inspire, create and share, expand our grasp of other media using modern technology (or even older techniques)?  And once we’ve learned to do that, to reach out beyond just live theatre, how do we reach out and cultivate other artists to explore other media as well?

I may not be able to draw worth a shit, as I mentioned to devilvet, but I’m pretty damn good with computers.  How can I utilize that expertise to share my art or expand my artistic influence?

What are you good at, besides performances/directing/playwriting?  And how can you tie the two passions together and share your art in other ways?

I didn’t get into any graduate programs this year

Well…

…there’s always next year, right?

Right.

I wrote the guy back at my top choice, and I said “What can I do to improve my chances at getting in next year?” and he wrote back and basically offered some advice that boiled down to “You have a passion for directing.  Keep directing!”  He also told me to email him mid-Fall if I was interested in applying again next year.  I hope that’s a good thing.

So now I have a problem.  I’m working over an hour away from my home, and I work 8-9 hours per day.  By the time I get home, I’m exhausted, I’ve spent 11 hours away from home, and I want to eat and go to sleep.  I get home between 7 and 8pm, and from all of my previous experience, that’s too late for any decent rehearsal period at any show.

So what am I to do?

I got a few options.

I can find another job that’s closer to home.  Or I can move closer to my current day job (web developer).  Or I can just not direct.  I don’t really think that last one’s an option.  I have to get some experience somehow, and I have to do some theatre or I’ll go crazy.

Just kind of in a crappy situation, I guess.

C.S. Lewis wrote a book called “Mere Christianity”, in which he boiled down the essence of Christianity (as he saw it) and put it in a book. He claimed that this was the merest essence of Christianity, that the rest was basically politics.

An article I read recently did something similar. The author discussed boiling down all the advice you can give for a given topic into seven words. Here’s a quote from the article:

“The author Michael Pollan offered an elegant seven-word mantra in his best-selling book “In Defense of Food” that provides clarity amid the bounty of choices on supermarket shelves: “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” Boiling down investing is a similar exercise: Index (mostly). Save a ton. Reallocate infrequently.”
(source: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/17/business/yourmoney/17money.html?_…)

As you can see, they boiled down the advice for food (”Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.”) into seven words, as well as investing (”Index. Save a ton. Reallocate frequently.”)

I’d like to hear your thoughts and see what you guys can boil down regional theatre (or theatre in general) into seven words. No more, no less.

Bring it on!

Here’s an interesting article I stumbled upon.

(Source: http://antistress.ro/2007/12/04/dodge-logo/)

Never have a limit on your income

Posted on April 7, 2008 by Derek Sivers

A wise man said, “Never have a limit on your income.”

Example he gave:

If you sell pens for a living and someone orders a million pens, no problem! You just place an order with your manufacturer for a million pens, get them to the customer, and celebrate.

But if you do hands-on massage for a living and a recent spot on Oprah gets you a waiting list of 10,000 people, “you’ll wish you were in the pen business.”

Point being : if you make a living only providing an in-person (hands-on) service, you are limiting your income. If you were in a “while you sleep” business, there is no limit to how much you can make.

So… what about musicians?

For the last few years, many people have suggested that the products (CDs, even downloads) are now just the free giveaways to get people to go to the show - that musicians are only in a hands-on service-provider business now.

Of course I disagree because I watch CD Baby pay more and more to musicians every month (while they sleep).

Musicians MUST NOT buy into that “only earn by performing” belief because it limits your income.

I spend a LOT of money on music, but haven’t been to a live concert in years. The recorded music has great value to me, whether MP3s, CDs, or even subscription services.

What other ways can music be a “while you sleep” income-earner for musicians? (STUPID BRAINSTORM WARNING

• write songs for others to perform
• creating commercial-use music (that businesses will use in advertising, for example)
• getting your music into film/tv
• paid-area access to your web-archive with all your music, even works-in-progress
• make it easy for fans to donate
• create a recognizable brand once, then license the name or model to others (like “Chicken Soup for the Soul”)
• franchise your band: train multiple bands how to sound just like you, then all can go tour, while you get royalty when they do
• creating music-education programs used by many schools
• release your unmixed tracks for fans to remix, letting them sell the remixes on a 50/50 split

WHAT ELSE?

Okay, so that got me thinking. According to those categories, theatre is a “hands-on” industry while other disciplines like film and TV are “while you sleep” industries. You can’t really do live theatre while you sleep (unless you’re Marvin from Marvin’s Room). On the other hand, once a film is made, all it takes to sell more is calling up the distributor and having them rush out more copies.

In short, this is mostly why two or three commercials in sizable markets can pay enough to last you a year while you pursue theatrical endeavors.

Theatre artists, like musicians, could benefit financially from “while you sleep” things. Notice musicians still tour; theatre artists should still produce live theatre. But musicians can also sell CDs and merchandise and music videos. How can we theatre artists do more “while you sleep” things to help us out financially?

Here’s a few ideas I thought of.

1) Custom T-shirts for Theatres and Plays. It’s relatively cheap to make custom T-shirts and you can do a 10% mark-up to cover costs and bring in a little extra income. You could do custom shirts for each play or do one for an entire season. The sky’s the limit!

2) uh… uh… I’m out of ideas.

Help? Any ideas out there?

Over at Angry White Guy in Chicago, Don often breaks out into angry rants (fits his blog title!) about every topic under the sun, from tourists to theatre, politics to gas prices, stupid hats to idiot bloggers calling for civility. In his latest post, “Is being ‘civil’ just another way to shut people up?”, Don argues that his ranting style brings honesty to a culture and community that simply isn’t used to being honest. And let’s face it, folks, he’s right.

When is the last time someone came to one of your performances and, when asked how it went, said “That was a shitty show”? Honestly, when did someone give you NEGATIVE feedback? They don’t. Or if they do, they cushion it with “Well, I didn’t like this part so much *mumble*becauseithoughtitwasstupid*mumble*, BUT I liked your performance. You were so funny!” They deflect the negative criticism while focusing on the positive.

One of Don’s favorite pasttimes was to rip Scott Walters a new one each week. And each week, Scott would retaliate. It always resulted in interesting conversations and arguments for us readers, but to be honest, when the overarching plot of both blogs should have been moving forward, they were standing still, rehashing the same arguments over and over. Many readers, including myself, put out a call for civility.

Don clearly takes offense at this statement. Why should he be civil? Clearly, we’re just trying to shut him up.

That’s not the case.

It’s one thing to say “This Pine Tree cigarette sucks donkey balls” and quite another to say “This Pine Tree cigarette sucks donkey balls because I feel like I’m smoking a picnic table and I think I’m gonna puke”

The first is just antagonistic and worthy of you wearing an “I’m a fucking retard” hat. The second expresses the same feeling, but offers justification which a) validates your opinion in that at least fact-based opinion and b) lets them know exactly why you felt their product sucked donkey balls.

Any time I call for civility, that’s what I’m asking for — not just criticism but constructive criticism. Meaningful feedback that can be acted upon.

I feel like Don’s review of GreyZelda’s The Skriker was a good one — he pointed out the flaws, essentially saying “I felt like this was crap and could’ve been a lot better, and here’s why…” As a director, I would have walked away with a lot of useful information from that. I might not agree with the criticism, but I’d at least listen and learn. The next night, I might watch it with the newfound information and notice what that person was talking about — or decide that their complaint wasn’t relevant (i.e. it only happened that one night, or perhaps you had intended something to work this way — in which case, you need to figure out why they didn’t get it, etc etc).

Just because you don’t like something I did does NOT mean that I’m obligated to follow your suggestions. It simply means that you had an opinion. And most people don’t just make comments like “That was horseshit” without at least a semi-good reason. So if find out what that reason was, I can maybe make it more clear next time.

Be honest. Be critical. Be constructively critical.

For you theatre people out there, if you honestly don’t like something — SAY SO. If you don’t say anything, we’ll never know and we’ll never change! We’ll assume it just works and keep on keeping on. But if you say something, then at least you can rest in the knowledge that you put in your six cents (gas prices, you know) and that if they don’t take your criticism to heart, then you’ve done all you can.

Cause let’s be honest, folks. There’s a lot of shitty theatre going on out there. And we put up with it because we’re too nice to say otherwise. There’s a lot of good theater out there, too. You know what separates the good theatre from the shitty theatre? Criticism. Lots and lots of constructive criticism. These guys get advice from people they trust so that they know what works and what doesn’t.

Anyone who doesn’t accept constructive criticism and at least listens to it with an open mind and hopes to learn is a fucking moron and deserves to wear Don’s stupid hat.

Be honest. Be bold. Be in-your-face. Be constructive.

One thing that people do very often is stare right into the face of truth and ignore it. They let their preconceived notions and assumptions inhibit their ability to think for themselves, to learn. My roommate, for example, believes very strongly that evolution (just a “theory”) is a hoax, that God put the dinosaurs in the earth for us to find. Obviously, he doesn’t understand what a scientific theory entails. But his religious beliefs and other preconceived ideas keep him from accepting the fact that science has proven thousands of times that evolution works.

My parents believe that I’m wasting my time with theatre. Every time I call my grandmother, she says something along the lines of “Maybe you should try getting a real job.” My family has made this assumption that theatre is all fun and games, that it involves no actual work and focus and meaningful activity. A lawyer friend of mine derided the American public for grieving for Heath Ledger’s untimely death by saying “You guys are a bunch of idiots. You never knew the guy. Even the guy you think you knew, you didn’t know. He made a living pretending to be something else.” Yes, that’s what actors do, but there is more to it than simply pretending.

Theatre is a very hard industry to make a living in, I’ll grant you that. But people like Scott Walters and others are trying to come up with ways to help theatre artists make living wages while still producing their art. They’re challenging the base assumptions behind the status quo.

One of my favorite shows is Stargate SG-1. In that show’s first season, Daniel Jackson encounters an Ancient, an being who as ascended to a higher plane of existence (think the Buddhists’ Nirvana). Oma Desala, as the character is called, speaks in riddles to Daniel Jackson. One thing she says is “If you immediately know candlelight is fire, then the meal was cooked long ago.” Daniel has no idea what it means.

Ten seasons later, I think I’ve figured it out. If you immediately know candlelight is fire (i.e. without thinking about it), then the meal was cooked long ago (i.e. you had already decided the truth). If you immediately know evolution is false, without looking at the facts or thinking about it, then you’ve closed your mind to any alternatives. In this case, you’ve closed your mind to the truth.

If you immediately know theatre is a waste of time, then you’ve already decided theatre artists are lazy people, no better than beggars and hobos.

Don’t be my parents.
Open your eyes to the truth.
Explore the possibilities.

As sort of a sequel to the How To Annoy Your Director post, I’ve got another little list for you to peruse. Tell me if this hasn’t happened to you!

Every show I’ve ever been to and probably every one I’ll go to in the near future, I can guarantee you someone’s cell phone is going to go off. Instead of being embarrassed and whispering “Sorry!”, they pick up the phone, and loudly exclaim “Yeah?! I’m at a play. I SAID, I’M AT A PLAY. Yeah! It’s okay, I guess. That fat girl up there sucks, and the scrawny guy — well, I can’t hear a damn word he says…” Meanwhile, the rest of the audience is glaring at her. She prattles on, oblivious.

This has happened so many times on stage that I’ve come up with quite a few scenarios as to what I would like to do.

1. I’ve actually done this: I waited until they were done, and then once they realized the action stopped, they got up and left. The audience applauded when they left, too.
2. Throw a prop at them, preferably a sword or knife of some kind. I haven’t done this for liability reasons, of course, but… it’d be so nice.
3. Yell, “Out, damn phone! Out!” in character. Haven’t done this yet, either. Mainly because it’s not likely I’ll perform in the Scottish play anytime soon, and I haven’t figured out a way to do it in character and not screw up the moment in other plays.
4. Break character and say “Excuse me, ma’am, we’re in the middle of a play.” Not gonna happen.
5. Walk off-stage into the house, grab the cell phone, drop it on the floor, and squash it with my boot, then walk back on-stage and pick up where I left off. I wish.

People just don’t respect the theatre these days.

Stole this from a Facebook Group. Funny stuff!

You should date actors/actresses because:

• we practice until its perfect
• we’re used to role playing
• we work well in big groups of people
• we’re trained how to scream loudly
• we’re used to performing in front of large audiences
• we’re used to adding to the scene
• we love to use our props
• we work for the pleasure of others
• we do it on cue
• after a brief intermission we’re ready to go at it again
• we always wear our costumes
• we’re used to quick changes
• we work onstage and Backstage
• we know how to put on a GREAT show!!!
• we do it on the spot
• we may take hours to get ready but in the end its all worth it
• we can stay in one position for hours and still make it enjoyable
• our mouths know just how to move
• we can make you stand up and scream for more at the end