funny thing about being an actor and a radio host... I am really shy about putting my work out for people to see. So in an effort to lose that self sabotaging shyness I am posting an audition here that I did for a really neat film called A Christmas Snow that required we audition through YouTube and FaceBook... I wish I could get the thumbnail to change... its wicked goofy...
let me know what you think...
Friday, January 22, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
The Beauty and the Beast...
2009 was an amazing year of discovery for me. I read back over this blog and see that in the year that I have been posting I booked two short films (one lead, one supporting), a day player role on a hit TV show and lead roles in two plays. This feels good to me. Very good.
Along side the work, I also have been doing a lot classes and workshops which have been an important part of my reconnecting to myself as an actor. The fact that I have a second chance is the continued work of angels seen and unseen.
In the workshops I’ve been given a huge range of characters to portray. In one (actually a paid gig to workshop a great new film script) the feedback I received was that I had a very feminine vibe, fragile and interesting, similar to Juliet Binoche... in another casting workshop I was given a part for seriously broad comedy a la Sandy Martin. On one hand fragile beauty, on the other, comedic character lady. My ego loves the first one of course and feels betrayed by the second. But my actor self is thrilled by the prospect that, with a little more work, I could pull off both, raising my booking potential exponentially.
It reminds me of an experience I had in India. I was at a teaching with His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama. As you may know... India is hard on a body. Really hard. It was a cold morning and I was deep in thought about the teaching. During a tea break, I got up to stretch my legs and as I navigated the thousands of people (Westerners, Asians, Tibetans, Indians and more) I ran into a friend. She looked concerned and said, “Viv, are you okay? You look really worn down! Be careful... get some rest.” I took it to heart and kept working my way to the back of the tent. About ten steps later I ran into another friend who grasped my shoulders and looked deep into my eyes saying, “Viv! You look radiant! This experience is clearly good for you!”
I call this the Emptiness of Viv’s Face. Maybe this could become my greatest asset as an actor. To create a character and then let the audience alone to choose their own experience. To disappear into the neutral zone between dualities and let the viewer decide.
To be both ... this is my quest...
Along side the work, I also have been doing a lot classes and workshops which have been an important part of my reconnecting to myself as an actor. The fact that I have a second chance is the continued work of angels seen and unseen.
In the workshops I’ve been given a huge range of characters to portray. In one (actually a paid gig to workshop a great new film script) the feedback I received was that I had a very feminine vibe, fragile and interesting, similar to Juliet Binoche... in another casting workshop I was given a part for seriously broad comedy a la Sandy Martin. On one hand fragile beauty, on the other, comedic character lady. My ego loves the first one of course and feels betrayed by the second. But my actor self is thrilled by the prospect that, with a little more work, I could pull off both, raising my booking potential exponentially.
It reminds me of an experience I had in India. I was at a teaching with His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama. As you may know... India is hard on a body. Really hard. It was a cold morning and I was deep in thought about the teaching. During a tea break, I got up to stretch my legs and as I navigated the thousands of people (Westerners, Asians, Tibetans, Indians and more) I ran into a friend. She looked concerned and said, “Viv, are you okay? You look really worn down! Be careful... get some rest.” I took it to heart and kept working my way to the back of the tent. About ten steps later I ran into another friend who grasped my shoulders and looked deep into my eyes saying, “Viv! You look radiant! This experience is clearly good for you!”
I call this the Emptiness of Viv’s Face. Maybe this could become my greatest asset as an actor. To create a character and then let the audience alone to choose their own experience. To disappear into the neutral zone between dualities and let the viewer decide.
To be both ... this is my quest...
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Will you still love me when I'm 64
I am taking a workshop this weekend that is really great. Chris Cuilla and Chadwick Struck are leading a really practical approach to building and maintaining a career as an actor in the regional markets here in Albuquerque as well as in Los Angeles. Its a lot of information and its really great to go over the nuts and bolts of the biz. Chris talks about reasonable goal setting and Chadwick will be auditioning us tomorrow and giving feedback. Its a great workshop and I highly recommend it.
For Christmas I received a book from my step - father that I swear, if it had been written before 2000 I would never have left New York on my wild tangent that took me to New Mexico.
(But then again, if I hadn't have done that I wouldn't have met my beloved husband, nor would I have my own syndicated public radio show on over 225 stations nationwide... so some tangents are fruitful. But I digress...again)
This book is called Working on the Inside: The Spiritual Life through the Eyes of Actors
If this had been available I would not have left the business for 7 years. The book interviews artists like Liam Neeson, Kristin Chenoweth, Phylicia Rashad and more about the way they balance their lives as working actors.
You see, the craft of acting is a creative path and a spiritual path for me. It has all the same components of ritual, silence, listening, transcendence (one hopes) and communion with something mysterious and complete. The book is giving me reason to hope that I'll be celebrating my 65 birthday with a really solid imdb page of credits and a deep sense of satisfaction of a career well balanced with life.
For Christmas I received a book from my step - father that I swear, if it had been written before 2000 I would never have left New York on my wild tangent that took me to New Mexico.
(But then again, if I hadn't have done that I wouldn't have met my beloved husband, nor would I have my own syndicated public radio show on over 225 stations nationwide... so some tangents are fruitful. But I digress...again)
This book is called Working on the Inside: The Spiritual Life through the Eyes of Actors
If this had been available I would not have left the business for 7 years. The book interviews artists like Liam Neeson, Kristin Chenoweth, Phylicia Rashad and more about the way they balance their lives as working actors.
You see, the craft of acting is a creative path and a spiritual path for me. It has all the same components of ritual, silence, listening, transcendence (one hopes) and communion with something mysterious and complete. The book is giving me reason to hope that I'll be celebrating my 65 birthday with a really solid imdb page of credits and a deep sense of satisfaction of a career well balanced with life.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Oh is that what you meant...
I took a workshop this weekend with Jane Jenkins and Janet Hirshenson. I went in with no expectations and guess what! I wasn't disappointed. The experience sort of ripened on me today... mulling over what the feedback was:
You have to get rid of this tentative quality if you are going to really dive into the deep end of the pool...
It resonated... but not really until just now. I see it so clearly. I am always testing the waters and checking myself from simply fully committing to choices. So what I thought was a lukewarm comment about a scene, was a gem of observation from some of the best in the business.
How lucky am I?
You have to get rid of this tentative quality if you are going to really dive into the deep end of the pool...
It resonated... but not really until just now. I see it so clearly. I am always testing the waters and checking myself from simply fully committing to choices. So what I thought was a lukewarm comment about a scene, was a gem of observation from some of the best in the business.
How lucky am I?
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Sigh...
I just went back through my posts to see when it was that I actually got cast in The Love Song of J Robert Oppenheimer and it was six months ago... and we just closed tonight. Such an amazing experience.
The opportunity to work with a cast that was so committed to the play and each other's well being was very special. The work just deepened and deepened. The connections on stage really sang.
I fell in love. With each member of the cast, with the craft, the directors and the whole crew. That peaceful kind of rich love that gives you the sense that you are walking in grace. The quiet kind, that says yup this here is where the real work happens.
The amazing thing is for me, I was finally able to use life experiences that I have held at bay because they were so hot for so long that they were unpredictable and would run away with me. I would not allow myself to go to the dark places required to inform my work because I couldn't channel it successfully to the given circumstances of the play. It would lead to general emotions of what I call "broad stroke anger" or "broad stroke grief" that lacked dimension and delineation. In Oppenheimer, I was finally able to use these old betrayals, fears, anger and grief and have them fall into service of my art.
There was a scene in which I confront Oppie about his dead mistress... To do so in any way that was real I had to revisit my own experience of betrayal. I felt like I was cheating when I tried to do substitutions and the Magic Ifs... always skirting around the truth of where those emotions live for me. So I took the plunge. 40 years ago I learned that my father had been having an affair with a woman. It explained the mysterious disappearances, some strange behaviors and a lot of drinking. The confrontation ended ultimately with his suicide. I found him in the garage. Not surprising that I haven't been able to touch it ... it is fucking brutal territory. But in this show, thanks to prep in class with Price and Eb last winter, and the deep trust I had for my directors and cast mates... I was able to use this experience in service to the character. Still hurts like a certain ring of Dante's Hell and I am at a loss as to know which one... but is was at last useful... and that is healing... that all that emotion is now available to serve instead of destroy...
The unexpected part is this... Now that I can use the brutal experiences, that thick layer of protective gauze that has enveloped my work for years... okay decades... the one that made me quit for seven years because it hurt too much to peel it away ... has now been removed. The result is the joyous emotions are all that much more joyous, the love is all the much more loving and the pain has a raison d'etre...
Its better than therapy and much much more gratifying... I am alive to talk about it...
The opportunity to work with a cast that was so committed to the play and each other's well being was very special. The work just deepened and deepened. The connections on stage really sang.
I fell in love. With each member of the cast, with the craft, the directors and the whole crew. That peaceful kind of rich love that gives you the sense that you are walking in grace. The quiet kind, that says yup this here is where the real work happens.
The amazing thing is for me, I was finally able to use life experiences that I have held at bay because they were so hot for so long that they were unpredictable and would run away with me. I would not allow myself to go to the dark places required to inform my work because I couldn't channel it successfully to the given circumstances of the play. It would lead to general emotions of what I call "broad stroke anger" or "broad stroke grief" that lacked dimension and delineation. In Oppenheimer, I was finally able to use these old betrayals, fears, anger and grief and have them fall into service of my art.
There was a scene in which I confront Oppie about his dead mistress... To do so in any way that was real I had to revisit my own experience of betrayal. I felt like I was cheating when I tried to do substitutions and the Magic Ifs... always skirting around the truth of where those emotions live for me. So I took the plunge. 40 years ago I learned that my father had been having an affair with a woman. It explained the mysterious disappearances, some strange behaviors and a lot of drinking. The confrontation ended ultimately with his suicide. I found him in the garage. Not surprising that I haven't been able to touch it ... it is fucking brutal territory. But in this show, thanks to prep in class with Price and Eb last winter, and the deep trust I had for my directors and cast mates... I was able to use this experience in service to the character. Still hurts like a certain ring of Dante's Hell and I am at a loss as to know which one... but is was at last useful... and that is healing... that all that emotion is now available to serve instead of destroy...
The unexpected part is this... Now that I can use the brutal experiences, that thick layer of protective gauze that has enveloped my work for years... okay decades... the one that made me quit for seven years because it hurt too much to peel it away ... has now been removed. The result is the joyous emotions are all that much more joyous, the love is all the much more loving and the pain has a raison d'etre...
Its better than therapy and much much more gratifying... I am alive to talk about it...
Monday, September 21, 2009
seeking perfection in an imperfect art form...
We just finished the second week of our run with The Love Song of J Robert Oppenheimer. Its really cool to feel it maturing and relaxing into a groove. We all know where the changes are, there is no more sense of low grade panic backstage. Its been replaced with a sense of timing and flow.
There's a thing that happens in the theater now ... the air gets a dense feeling to it, as if it has a texture. Every performance is different... carrying with it the emotions and feelings of each cast member.
For that reason, I think its an imperfect art form. Doesn't seem to be possible to "Do It Right." You can say the words in the right order, get on stage at the same time every night, always do the blocking and the physical business that has been planned, but its never the same. Its always evolving, opening and closing, deepening and moving on... That's what makes it so exciting. The dynamic between two performers is always compelling and always a bit different. As much as I want to hit the same notes every night, they are always colored with a slightly different hue, depending on what I have going on... The beauty is, its seems to add depth to the characters.
I have gotten over my fears of total and abject failure. The key was trust. Trusting that I am growing and developing the character, with in the parameters of the directors vision, but growing none the less.
Wondering what is going to happen after closing... no show lined up... probably need a break... do I want one... nope.
There's a thing that happens in the theater now ... the air gets a dense feeling to it, as if it has a texture. Every performance is different... carrying with it the emotions and feelings of each cast member.
For that reason, I think its an imperfect art form. Doesn't seem to be possible to "Do It Right." You can say the words in the right order, get on stage at the same time every night, always do the blocking and the physical business that has been planned, but its never the same. Its always evolving, opening and closing, deepening and moving on... That's what makes it so exciting. The dynamic between two performers is always compelling and always a bit different. As much as I want to hit the same notes every night, they are always colored with a slightly different hue, depending on what I have going on... The beauty is, its seems to add depth to the characters.
I have gotten over my fears of total and abject failure. The key was trust. Trusting that I am growing and developing the character, with in the parameters of the directors vision, but growing none the less.
Wondering what is going to happen after closing... no show lined up... probably need a break... do I want one... nope.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
no words...
"How do I presume, and how should I begin... "
The opening lines (or something like it) for The Love Song of J Robert Oppenheimer...
Kind of how I feel at the moment. We opened on Friday after an intense three and a half weeks of rehearsal. The show is one of the best I've been in for many reasons...I will try to articulate them here but I may have to revisit it for some weeks to get some real perspective.
Okay so there is the word love in the title... and it was part of the whole tone, a tone that was set in the theater by Vic Browder and Julia Thudium, co-directors of the play for Mother Road Theater Company. Something so strong that I can only describe it as Reiki Energy. The process of rehearsing was one of love and compassion, not the airy fairy, touchy feely, creepy co-dependent "I'm okay you're okay" kind. It was the real kind. Tough, calling out unreal moments. Demanding, always setting the bar a little higher; the kind of energy that cracks what ever codes that need to be broken, to access the really good, deep work; and get to the truth of the Story. All the while guided by real vision and the ability to see it realized.
I am playing Kitty Oppenheimer. She is alcoholic, isolated by choice (as only an alcoholic can be ~ and don't I know it so well), and alienated from her contemporaries by her past. I imagine in the 1940's it was sort of difficult for her to fit in to the military environment of Los Alamos, given that she was German born, a member of the American Communist Party, and had been married three times before the age of 29. A threat to the military men on two counts and their wives on one...
I have probably the least number of lines in the show, and only play the one character, while Bill Sterchi, Brian Haney, Mark Hisler, and Courtney Cunningham play a several characters each and are on and off stage shaking off one costume and changing to another in a flash... sometimes literally. It is strangely isolating to be sitting backstage while they fly from one thing to the next. Oppie (Chris Atwood Hall) and Lilith (Danielle Louise Reddick) are never off stage, Lilith living in the cat walk over the stage. But lines or no lines, any appearance has just as much responsibility as any. Kitty creates a huge impact whenever she appears. Whip smart and intensely funny, she speaks her mind as it comes up... doesn't bother censoring until its too late, and even then... apologies tend to be at your expense. She could be a decidedly unpleasant character... if she wasn't so frightened and so deeply in love with Oppenheimer.
The cast. The cast is ... magnificent. (Them not me... more on that later). Each of the different characters are so well crafted that they are never "sketches" but deeply known portrayals of important factors of the story...
My work has been spotty. Some places connected and feeling good. Other times, I feel like a loose canon and have to guard against self annihilation, which is only tedious and a waste of energy. I remind myself that feelings aren't facts... move on. Suffice to say that after two performances, I felt locked in today and am grateful to have 14 more to enjoy.
okay so that's a start... more tomorrow.. too sleepy to continue articulately...
The opening lines (or something like it) for The Love Song of J Robert Oppenheimer...
Kind of how I feel at the moment. We opened on Friday after an intense three and a half weeks of rehearsal. The show is one of the best I've been in for many reasons...I will try to articulate them here but I may have to revisit it for some weeks to get some real perspective.
Okay so there is the word love in the title... and it was part of the whole tone, a tone that was set in the theater by Vic Browder and Julia Thudium, co-directors of the play for Mother Road Theater Company. Something so strong that I can only describe it as Reiki Energy. The process of rehearsing was one of love and compassion, not the airy fairy, touchy feely, creepy co-dependent "I'm okay you're okay" kind. It was the real kind. Tough, calling out unreal moments. Demanding, always setting the bar a little higher; the kind of energy that cracks what ever codes that need to be broken, to access the really good, deep work; and get to the truth of the Story. All the while guided by real vision and the ability to see it realized.
I am playing Kitty Oppenheimer. She is alcoholic, isolated by choice (as only an alcoholic can be ~ and don't I know it so well), and alienated from her contemporaries by her past. I imagine in the 1940's it was sort of difficult for her to fit in to the military environment of Los Alamos, given that she was German born, a member of the American Communist Party, and had been married three times before the age of 29. A threat to the military men on two counts and their wives on one...
I have probably the least number of lines in the show, and only play the one character, while Bill Sterchi, Brian Haney, Mark Hisler, and Courtney Cunningham play a several characters each and are on and off stage shaking off one costume and changing to another in a flash... sometimes literally. It is strangely isolating to be sitting backstage while they fly from one thing to the next. Oppie (Chris Atwood Hall) and Lilith (Danielle Louise Reddick) are never off stage, Lilith living in the cat walk over the stage. But lines or no lines, any appearance has just as much responsibility as any. Kitty creates a huge impact whenever she appears. Whip smart and intensely funny, she speaks her mind as it comes up... doesn't bother censoring until its too late, and even then... apologies tend to be at your expense. She could be a decidedly unpleasant character... if she wasn't so frightened and so deeply in love with Oppenheimer.
The cast. The cast is ... magnificent. (Them not me... more on that later). Each of the different characters are so well crafted that they are never "sketches" but deeply known portrayals of important factors of the story...
My work has been spotty. Some places connected and feeling good. Other times, I feel like a loose canon and have to guard against self annihilation, which is only tedious and a waste of energy. I remind myself that feelings aren't facts... move on. Suffice to say that after two performances, I felt locked in today and am grateful to have 14 more to enjoy.
okay so that's a start... more tomorrow.. too sleepy to continue articulately...
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