The Artistry of Youtube

Hey everyone! This is an article that I wrote a while back for the Curator. It's called: "The Art of Youtube" - a history of the medium, and analysis of it as an art form. Check it out!

http://www.curatormagazine.com/ashleygriffin/the-art-of-youtube 

Women in the Arts - A Question

                                                                Women in the Arts
                                                                       A question

  
Some of my favorite (contemporary) women in the arts. From left to right: Sara Ruhl, Jane Espenson, Rina Mimoun, Tina Fey


Ok, so this is the blog entry I never thought I would write. I feel like I’m throwing my hat in a ring that others have thought much longer, and harder about then I have. I also, I suppose through innocence, was not really “rallied to the cause” as it were until recently. I’ve never considered myself a huge feminist, though of course I believe in equality of women, but, well, I’ll start at the beginning and go from there. I wanted to write this more as a conversation starter then as a theoretical analysis. I would really love your opinions on this topic. It’s something I really started thinking about a couple years ago but I guess the metaphorical “final straw” came a couple days ago when I was hanging out with a female friend of mine – who is brilliantly funny – and I suddenly realized that I have two, count ‘em TWO female friends who are strong comediennes. I have many wonderfully funny guy friends but, (and keep in mind, I am a professional performer, and the work I’m currently most well known for are comedies) I have only two female friends who are funny as part of what they do for a living. In addition to being a performer, I am also a professional writer – specifically playwright. I don’t have any good female friends who are playwrights. What?

Like I said, lets start at the beginning.

I was extremely blessed to be raised with the firm belief that while girls and boys may be different, they were completely equal – and both could grow up to be anything they wanted to be. I was raised by a beautiful, strong, and very intelligent mom, and had wonderful female role models growing up. My first acting teacher went on to become a head writer for the WB – and (when she was in high school and I was about eight) I remember watching her work on her scripts during rehearsal breaks and thinking how cool she was, and how cool it would be to do that myself. The theater company I grew up at was co run by a female and male artistic director. The majority of theater directors I worked with growing up were women.

When we started learning history in elementary school the thought never entered my mind that women weren’t being properly represented, or had been kept from doing things men did – I firmly believed that, well, at that time in history, statistically women just happened to be interested in other kinds of jobs then, say, being President, and the people that were elected were the best person for the job, and by coincidence, they happened to be men. Now if I ran for President, I’d take ‘em all down. ☺

There’s a line from the movie “Selena” that Abraham says to his daughter (Selena) “No female has ever made it and now you’re number one. You cracked the Tejano market wide open. You walked into Mexico and they don’t even accept Mexican-Americans and they love you…all the barriers that have stopped people before…and you went through them like they didn’t exist. Maybe for you they don’t exist.” That kind of summed up my way of thinking. They DON’T exist. Who’s to stop you? Maybe thinking they exist makes them exist.
But my thinking started to change when I started getting my first tastes of success as an adult in the entertainment industry.

I would walk into meetings with important industry professionals – producers, directors, even writers, and I would be the only woman in the room. I’d also be the youngest one in the room – but that’s another topic.

If you’ve read my blog post “The Power of Laughter” you’ll know that I didn’t grow up with huge aspirations of being funny. But somehow, I am funny, and it’s something that I enjoy using in my art. Suddenly I’m reading articles about how women aren’t funny – and realizing that I have two female friends that are professional comedians. And suddenly, I’ve become highly aware of the ratio of men to women directors, writers, producers, and comedians.

And I keep asking myself why? And I really don’t know. Was the fact that I was never aware that my being a woman might have anything to do with the job I would ultimately end up doing the lucky blessing that made me blissfully unaware of any hindrances in my path?  Are women being intimidated out of these roles? Are men in power making unfair decisions when it comes to hiring? I’ve been incredibly blessed to have brilliant male mentors for whom gender differences mean nothing (in the best sense.) I know other women who have had horrible experiences working with men who didn’t think their work had value. I do think there are differences between men and women when it comes to the arts – but no more so then any two people with different life experiences might have. An African-American writer might (and I emphasize the word MIGHT – this is only for the sake of argument, not compartmentalization) be more interested in exploring the African-American experience in their work then, say, a Caucasian writer who was raised by European immigrants and wants to explore the changing European mentality in the United States.  A man may default to having a male protagonist, where as a woman might default to having a female one. Someone who’s been through a divorce might be interested in exploring the ins and outs of romantic relationships, where as someone with dysfunctional parents might want to write about that. Because at the end of the day to be an artist you have to explore your personal truth, and it is different experiencing the world as a woman or as a man (I say this as a comment related to the subject matter, and general tone two different people might gravitate towards, not that women can’t write male characters, or talk about the male experience, and visa versa.)

Shouldn’t it be about the PERSON? Sometimes I wonder if we were all given numbers instead of names, and never applied for a job in person, would the demographics be the same? Is it that men feel challenged by women in a position of power? Does funny equal power? Why was it such a revelation for Tina Fey to be funny AND sexy? Some of my friends who primarily direct comedy based shows say they always feel like they’ve hit the jackpot when they find a great, funny woman – and that they’re always the most challenging to cast. Why can I practically count on one hand the number of female playwrights and directors who have been featured on Broadway in the past five years?

In essence, I’m trying to figure out what’s going on. Thoughts? What do you think accounts for this dichotomy? And how can we go about changing it?

Physical Comedy in Musical Theater

Hey everyone! I was recently asked by the amazing John Towsen (author of "Clowns" - see my post: "The Power of Laughter") to write a guest post for his wonderful blog. It's on physical comedy in musical theater. You can check it out here:

http://physicalcomedy.blogspot.com/2013/01/guest-post-ashley-griffin-on-physical.html

Ashley's Guide To Collaboration

  

A Guide To Collaboration

A lot of people have asked me for advice regarding collaboration, as well as about my experiences with collaborating. Collaborating on a new work, specifically as a writer, can either be one of the greatest experiences ever, or one of the absolute worst. I find it is a topic not often discussed, and sometimes a few helpful hints can make a world of difference. So, this is my guide on how to have a successful collaboration. I have divided it up into three sections: 1.) Co writing 2.) Separate but equal collaboration 3.) Ensemble collaboration.

1.)   Co writing

To be brutally honest: tread with EXTREME caution. I know that sounds cryptic, but it’s true for many, many reasons. Especially since this tends to be one of the most common types of collaboration, and it is often entered into very causally. “Hey BFF – we should totally write a movie together!” “I have this cool idea for a play, wanna write it with me?” etc. It’s also the easiest to enter into for the wrong reasons.

Entering into any kind of collaboration, but especially co writing, is the equivalent of getting married. And that’s not simply metaphoric – it’s meant in a very literal, legal sense too. Actually, it’s like getting married and instantly having a child. Only, where as when an actual marriage doesn’t work out the two parties can get divorced and, as painful and difficult as it may be, can in a way “divide” the child between them, when you’re in a co authored collaboration that doesn’t work out your only options are to force yourselves to stay together to keep the child (your work) alive, or, quite literally, kill the metaphoric baby. When you enter into a co authorship you are creating what is legally termed a “joint work.” This means that the elements of that work cannot be separated. You can’t sit down and say: “well, I came up with the idea, so that’s mine, but you came up with the characters, so those are yours, and I think I wrote this line of dialogue, so that’s mine…” and then go your separate ways and rewrite your material using none of the influence of the other party.  You either stay together and follow through on the show/film, or the idea is basically dead (unless the other party gives you WRITTEN, not verbal, permission to go it alone, which is what happened when Jonathan Larson’s original “Rent” collaborator lost interest in the project.) Now there are some possible exceptions to this. You can retain an idea if it is completely yours. You cannot, however, use, or claim credit for ANYTHING that you jointly came up with with your collaborator. So if you’re really able to reboot completely from scratch, with no copy write infringement, it’s possible, though very difficult.

Co writing is also like a marriage in that you get to know your collaborator intimately. You may be friends with the person you’re collaborating with, you may admire them, but that’s not enough to keep a collaboration together. It’s the same as when two friends become roommates. Sometimes it works out great. Sometimes it destroys the relationship. Your collaborator may work at a different speed then you – do you finish all your writing in less then a week? You may be harassing your collaborator who takes months to finish an equivalent assignment to hurry up. Or visa versa. You might like your collaborator’s writing, but are your writing styles compatible with each other? Is it painfully clear who wrote which scenes? Just because you like someone’s work doesn’t mean you should collaborate with them.

And more then that – collaborations can go south on tiny things. You will be spending a great deal of time in each other’s company. You will be in each other’s homes. You will be eating the same food. You will be hanging out with their friends, and they with yours. At some point they will do something to hurt your feelings, and visa versa. Many of the adjustments you have to make when you marry someone, you will have to make when you collaborate with someone.

And most important of all, you must both be telling the same story. If you have different ideas about the theme, structure, or how the story should be told, it’s not going to work. If one person is not open to hearing criticism or rewriting, it’s not going to work. If one of you is more enthusiastic about the project then the other, it’s not going to work. I personally have only co written two pieces in my life. Not that I haven’t had the opportunity to co write more. They were only entered into after careful thought. Here is a checklist for when you’re deciding whether or not to co write a piece with someone.

1.)   Why are we interested in telling this story? Are we unified in our reasoning?

2.)   Do I respect this person as an artist?

3.)   Do I respect this person as a human being?

4.)   Is this person open to critiques, and rewriting?

5.)   Am I open, and comfortable with receiving critiques from them?

6.)   Is this someone that I want to spend many hours with, every week for months, and possibly years?

7.)   Is this someone I can see being in my life for a very long time?

8.)   If this person and I are not getting along personally, are we both able to put that aside and maintain a professional relationship?

9.)   Is there a reason why it is more beneficial to write this story with this person then it would be for either one of us to write it alone? The fact that we could hang out and it would be “more fun” is not an acceptable reason. This is one of the MOST important questions on this list.

10.)  Does working with this person inspire me? Or make me feel worse about myself, and my abilities?

If you have not positively answered EVERY one of these questions DO NOT enter into a co authorship. I’ll use one of my collaborations as an example. Right now I’m in the process of co writing a play. I’ve answered all the questions in the affirmative. For question #9 I would say that my collaborator and I, while sharing similar artistic likes, and vocabulary each have different areas of expertise, and different artistic backgrounds. We are therefore able to compliment each other with our strengths.

Once you have decided to co write, sit down with your collaborator and establish the following.

1.)   While friendship is a helpful aspect of collaboration it is not a  NECESSAIRY aspect. I repeat: as sad as it may sound, it is not necessary for collaborators to be friends. If you are friends, put it to the side when you are actually working. My collaborators and I often, vocally, establish “professional” time, and “friend” time when we are together. Talk beforehand about what your professional relationship will be. This includes (potentially) drawing up contracts, establishing “credit,” and royalty percentages, as well as what your actual process will be. No, do not think “oh, but we’ll be fine, we’re buddies, we don’t need a contract.” Think in terms of a worse case scenario. You do. I don’t care how close you are. This will also prevent any potential business issues from destroying a friendship if one already exists. On the flip side, being co writers means you're going to have to get personal with each other - to a degree. You will be spending a lot of time with each other, and talking about the emotional issues you're writing about. Personal things are going to come up. You may be good friends, you may not, but you need to be able to listen to, and support each other as caring adults regardless. 

2.)   Spend a lot, and I mean a LOT of time talking before you actually start writing. Talk about what excites you about the project. Be very clear, and unified about what the theme of your story is. Exchange movies, books, music, etc. that you think are relevant and inspiring to your project. Create a VERY detailed outline for your story. Talk about the characters. This can last for weeks. The more unified you are now – the more heartache you will save later. Talk through each scene in detail. While you may come up with wonderful things when actually writing, neither of you should be hugely surprised by plot, structure, character development/voice, and general action when reading pages the other has finished.

3.)   Discuss what your writing process will look like. Who will write what? How will rewrites happen? Are you comfortable with the other person making changes to scenes you have written, or do you want them to run all changes by you first? How do you each like to receive criticism? How do you both like to structure? Can you combine your methods?

4.)   Stick to the process you have decided upon.

5.)   Be generous with your collaborator, and go out of your way to understand and support their process. In theory, they should be doing the same for you. If they have a favorite book on writing, and always use the basic outline said book suggests – read the book. Likewise, pass on materials that have become a part of your vocabulary. Read everything the other has written. Learn their strengths and weaknesses – but only as a means towards better collaboration. Above all, support them. Go see their shows. In essence, be the best boyfriend/girlfriend ever.

6.)   Despite the marriage and boyfriend/girlfriend analogy, NEVER become romantically involved with your collaborator. There are two exceptions. 1.) If you have finished work on a particular project and are not actually in the process of writing together. 2.) If you are 110% sure that said romance will end in marriage. Long lasting, forever marriage.  Remember, co writers are co writers for life. There’s no such thing as true “divorce.”

7.)   Be honest. If something is done, or said in a way that upsets you, be sensitively up front about it as soon as possible. Don’t get angry, but calmly explain how said action affected you, and try to resolve it quickly. You don’t want things to boil up between you. This way you can also learn more about your collaborator, and can develop a stronger shorthand between you. Honesty also means keeping promises. If you say you will have a scene to your collaborator by Friday morning – make sure they have it by Friday morning at the latest. Of course emergencies happen, but by and large you should be on time, preferably early. Don’t be the one who has to be given fake deadlines to make sure you actually get things in on time. As Neil Gaiman says, “You must have two of the following three to be successful: Talented, On Time, or Nice. You can be talented and nice, but not on time. You can be on time and nice, but not talented, etc.” I’ll go a step further and suggest you keep all your bases covered. Be talented, on time, AND nice. It’ll only help you.  

You and your collaborator will be on intimate terms, whether you like it or not. In a dream scenario, your work will be picked up by a producer, and be very successful. But keep in mind, as wonderful as that may be, you and your collaborator will be jointly responsible for every decision a writer has to make. There is no swing vote. There’s no majority rules. You both must agree on a director, cast, design team and concept, contractual negotiations, etc. You will disagree about something, somewhere, and you need to know you’re working with a person you can come out the other side of it with. No matter what your personal relationship you will still have to attend opening nights/premiers with this person, do interviews with them, if your work is successful – forever.

2.)   Separate But Equal Collaboration

While many of the same rules apply, this kind of collaboration has a little more wiggle room. This type of collaboration refers to situations where the collaborators, while equal contributors, do not have the same job. The best example is in musical theater. You might have one person writing the book (script), one writing the lyrics, and one writing the music. Often you may have one person writing the book AND lyrics, and another writing the music – in which case more of the co writing issues above come into play, since there is no tie breaker in decision making. However, because the work, though collaborative, exists in two different mediums (words and music) it is more possible to separate responsibility and contribution. On the flip side, you may have multiple composers, or even composer lyricists.

A word of warning. Due to slightly grey copy write laws musicals very frequently are considered “joint works” whether the contributions can be separated or not. This is helpful in one respect – namely producers can’t try to play collaborators against each other, but difficult if there is a genuine desire by both parties to separate their work. This gets fuzzy, and is something to be discussed before entering into a collaboration.

But in essence, if I have written music for a song, and I don’t like the lyricist I’m working with, I can always take my music and have someone else do new lyrics. Case in point – Andrew Lloyd Webber replacing the original “Phantom of the Opera” lyricist with lyricist Charles Hart. You do have to be careful of copy write infringement – the new lyrics must be truly new lyrics, but it is possible to separate your work. It also means you, or your collaborator(s) can be fired. In the play I’m currently co writing – the production team could, in theory (though this gets into tricky legal water as well since a playwright does have the option to withdraw their contribution and keep a show from opening if they don’t like the way a production is going) if I am causing major problems, ban me from rehearsal – but they couldn’t ever fire me. If, however, someone has only contributed in one area, it is possible to replace them (within legal parameters.)

But, on the whole, the same rules apply as in the section on co authorship. The not needing to be friends, I think, applies even more here, since you are all doing different jobs. I have several composers who I collaborate with often. I like them all very much. But I will decide who to approach on a new project based on how right I think their style is for the show, not on who I most want to hang out with. Sometimes that may mean working with somebody completely new. But it’s about the work first. And I always go through both checklists listed above.

3.)   Ensemble Collaboration

This refers to all other types of collaboration: designers and directors, actors and actors, actors and directors, writers and directors, basically everything that goes on in a rehearsal process.

Actors and designers are in a unique position in that, most often they are being hired, as opposed to being part of a mutual decision to form an equal collaboration. But no matter in what capacity you’re going to be working with someone, this is one of the most important pieces of advice I can give. And it most especially relates to writers deciding to work with a director (since they will literally be handing their “baby” over to this director, and have them interpret their work.)

You ready?

If you decide to collaborate with someone – you must give them your full trust. If you do not fully trust them – DON’T WORK WITH THEM!

We’ve all seen it. Writers who are completely uncompromising in the rehearsal room, not listening to feedback, treating each word as solid gold. Actors who argue about a scene’s interpretation, directors who constantly criticize actors, etc. This can stem from a lot of things but, I think, it boils down to trust. Someone doesn’t trust someone else to do their job. Either this is coming from naïveté and insecurity, or it’s because the person in question really DOESN’T know how to do their job. Only you can decide which it is. If it’s incompetence, you shouldn’t be working with them. If they in fact are doing a good job, then you need to start acting like a collaborator.

In the best circumstances, everyone in a rehearsal room should be treated as an equal collaborator. Here are some suggestions to help that happen:

1.)   Treat everyone as equal. Treat everyone as collaborators. This means that you are not the most important person in the room. Likewise, your opinions are just as important as everyone else’s. Stick to your area of focus (i.e. don’t start giving inappropriate suggestions for things that don’t concern you) but, when it is appropriate, feel free to be a part of the conversation. And if you are the director, if you really treat everyone as a collaborator you will do worlds for the quality of the show, and morale. Be a benevolent leader. Not a dictator.

2.)   Know when it’s appropriate to say your piece. My general advice is this: Once you’re in the rehearsal room, the director is the captain of the ship. Unless something they say confuses you to the degree that you will not be able to do what is being asked (in which case ask for clarification), just get on with it. However, make time before rehearsal to make sure you get to share anything you think is important. When I am the writer, I always sit down with a director well before rehearsals begin and share everything I could ever want to say about my work. We talk about it. Then I know that the director has all the information I have, and can trust that it will be utilized when necessary while working on the show. The same as an actor. Usually you’ll have time during table work, but when I’m acting I will have a discussion with the director where we can get on the same page, and I can ask questions before blocking starts. If you’re directing – you should make sure you’re getting together with the writer, actors, musical director, etc. before rehearsal. If something comes up in rehearsal that you disagree with, especially as the writer, I highly suggest asking if you can have a chance to discuss it after rehearsal – AWAY FROM THE REST OF THE COMPANY. Again, all collaboration is in some ways like a marriage. Keep disagreements private.

3.)   Be a giving collaborator, not a taking collaborator. How can you most effectively help your collaborators do THEIR job to the best of their ability? Go out of your way to make their job as easy as possible. If they need something, be happy and eager to do it.

4.)   Know how to ask for what you need. If you need more time to work on something, ask for it. If you need time to discuss an issue, ask for it. If you need extra help, ask for it. If you need to hear your harmony again, ask. A professional is someone who knows what they need, and asks. Do your job efficiently, but know what will best help you to do it. Unless you’re asking for things constantly, no one will begrudge giving you what you need. Hey, helping you be your best means making the whole show better. And it’s so much nicer then just having to guess that someone needs something. It’ll be more of a problem if you never speak up. Then nothing will ever get accomplished. It’ll eventually come out during tech when there’s no time to do anything about it. Then everyone will just be frustrated.

5.)   Be willing to try anything once. Unless you feel unsafe, or do not feel that the suggestion is coming from any sort of trustworthy place (in which case, see “don’t work with someone untrustworthy,”) try anything once. Try that new line. Try the new objective. Try adjusting that scene. The worst that can happen is it doesn’t work, and you go back to what you were doing before. Be brave.

6.)   Stand up for your work, when truly appropriate. AFTER the “try everything once” rule – if you REALLY feel strongly about something, say so. The more giving, and generous you are, the more you’re apt to be respected when you do (nicely) give a strong opinion about something. Then it’s everyone else’s turn to exercise the “try everything once” rule. It’s only fair.

7.)   Listen to the feedback you’re getting. This is especially for writers. You don’t have to listen to HOW people are telling you to fix something, but if multiple people are consistently telling you to fix something, you need to listen. Try to get down to the essence of WHAT is not clear. Sometimes that means asking questions and translating a comment into vocabulary that’s helpful for you. Then it’s your job to fix it however you think is best. But if there’s an issue, don’t ignore it. And whatever you do, don’t try to justify it by blaming it on the acting, directing, line reading, or anything else. Your work should be actor/director proof. Then having great actors/directors will only make it better. Remember, your theme – your reason for doing the show won’t change. But there are a thousand ways to express it. I like to think of it like doing a crossword puzzle: the clue won’t change, but there are many, many words that could work as the answer. You just have to find the one that fits in the allotted space. But the clue never changes. Same with theme – and that’s why you started working on the show in the first place.

8.)   Be humble. Seriously. Make humble your default setting.

9.)   Be confident. But remember, humility still comes first. Be humbly confidant.

10.)   Learn from everyone.

11.)  The show is the most important thing. The show is more important then you, or anyone else. Everything must be in service of the show.

The rules above become somewhat of a mute point when you are NOT working with capable, trustworthy artists. In those instances focus on #8, 9 and 11. But do what needs to be done to protect the show. But always make it a learning experience. WHY did you find yourself in this situation? How can you try to prevent it from happening again?

Collaboration, like any meaningful relationship, can be challenging, but hugely rewarding. Be the kind of collaborator you want to have, and above all remember that this is a business relationship. Treat it as such.

And I leave you with this:

“The secret is to gang up on the problem, rather than each other.”

—Thomas Stallkamp

In Defense of Actors

        In Defense of Actors

       

                            

In the past few months I’ve found myself in the acquaintance of a great many non-actors. Actually, non-entertainment industry…ers but, well, interestingly, acting seems to be the area where are they have most pre conceived notions. 

In fact, acting seems to be the area where most people, industry (a term for those in the entertainment business) or not seem to have the greatest pre conceived notions about the entertainment business. A, to be honest, rather shocking experience I’ve had post Twilight: The Unauthorized Musical Parody is of walking into a room of industry members and getting a completely different response depending on whether I’m introduced first as an actor or a writer. If introduced as a writer I am immediately assumed to be intelligent, savvy, and generally on an equal par with those in the room. If introduced as an actor I am dumb, naïve, unknowledgeable about business in any way, and nothing more than a “pretty girl.”

A disclaimer here – this is certainly not ALWAYS the case. I have many wonderful friends, both industry and not for whom this couldn’t be further from the truth. But sadly, in the past nine months especially, I have come to experience this more and more when I meet new people. And I felt it was time to address it.

A note: The “actor” I am using as a paradigm here is, what I consider to be, a typical New York working actor – someone who is, or is on the way to being successful in their field. In general, if you’re acting, you’re an actor – so I think this should be the litmus test for the issues below. I will occasionally address the “green” actor, or LA actor – I grew up in LA, and made my acting debut at five, so, while I mainly live and work in NYC now, I feel more than qualified to comment on the LA demographic – and yes, I think there is a difference to be taken into account.

These are the stereotypes I hear most commonly perpetuated:

 Actors are crazy, self-centered, overly emotional drama queens with potentially huge     psychological issues.

In reality, I think actors are some of the most well-adjusted, self-knowledgeable people on the planet. What do you think we do in acting school? Aside from technically developing our “instrument” (our bodies, and voices,) acting class is basically one giant psychology course – intensely studying both yourself, and the rest of the world. No, I didn’t say therapy session, though there is often crying involved. I said psychology course. Notice how the number one major (for those actors who choose to study something else in college,) secondary major, or minor for actors in college is psychology. Heck, even if you do think of it as therapy – it’s therapy where the patient comes out the other side incredibly self aware, and empathetic. Not committed to an institution.

One thing you can never really say about actors is that we’re repressed. We all have issues, but actors generally know what they are, and have good ways of dealing with them. Actors cry, we laugh, we get angry, because at the end of the day our job description – the thing we get paid money to do, is to get onstage, or in front of a camera and experience those things for YOU. The audience. Our job is to get you to experience YOUR sadness, YOUR joy, YOUR anger. And we can’t do that without being in touch with our own. We have to get up in front of hundreds, if not thousands of people, and just BE. Let people look at us. Become vulnerable. Show those things to strangers that they may not be comfortable even showing to themselves. If we weren’t well adjusted, we’d be locked away.

So in order to do that onstage, we have to be comfortable with ourselves in real life. That means we often experience life in big ways. We may be that friend who always laughs loudest at a funny movie, or lets others see us cry when we’re upset. It doesn’t mean we’re a “drama queen,” and it certainly doesn’t mean we’re faking emotion. It means we’re comfortable being in touch with it. And yeah, that can be off putting. I wouldn’t want to be a non-actor at an actor’s party. But think about what we have to do every day. We have to confront our own pain in the face – in rehearsal, in front of strangers, for some even in the national, or world spotlight. Yes, sometimes we may need some hand holding in rehearsal. We may need you to be sensitive of our feelings. Because that’s what we’re being asked to do – FEEL all day long. Think about it.

I think there's a general assumption that being emotional and being intelligent are mutually exclusive. Either you're ruled by your heart, or your head. Since actors are associated with being emotional the same way, say lawyers are associated with being intellectual (and if we were having this same discussion about breaking down lawyer stereotypes we would be making the case for them not just being thinking heads. Seriously - in the musical "Legally Blonde" there's a lyric that goes: "Don't lawyers feel love too? Even if they do...") Actors are not unthinking wells of emotion. And we couldn't act if we were. We're in touch with our emotions, we're comfortable with them, but we're not ruled by them. We craft them. We're analytically emotional. Usually the first week at least of rehearsal is dedicated to what we call "text analysis" - literally intellectually analyzing the text and making conscious choices about what the character is feeling, and doing, and what we need to do to bring that across. It requires a great deal of empathy, yes, but also intelligence. 

Regarding the psychological issues – no way. I don’t think you can have deep psychological issues and be a healthy actor. That’s not to say you can’t be deeply emotionally scarred, and severely traumatized. Perhaps those people who have experienced something incredibly painful and emotional are more in tune with it, and have a need to explore it. But there are many other people in other professions who have experienced similar things, and deal with it in different ways.

Yeah, sometimes we can create drama. But so can everyone. Theater drama can’t be any worse than office drama. And most of the time things are rather calm in our real lives. I mean we have enough drama onstage. Getting all that drama out onstage sometimes means that our personal lives are far more calm, peaceful, and well adjusted then the average person. I said sometimes…

                                    Actors are vain, and obsessed with their looks.

                                              

Here’s the thing. I admit - if you invite me over for a party I will totally be that prat who doesn’t partake in dessert. But it’s not because I’m totally obsessed with being “hot,” it’s because I care more about succeeding in my career then getting to do everything my friends do. Believe me, I love chocolate. My mom (among her many other talents) is a gourmet cook. I make a mean cardamom coconut dark chocolate cupcake. But that’s only happening on VERY special occasions. Because the harsh truth of the matter is – if you’re an actor, you’re judged every day on how you look. It’s just a fact of life. And I don’t mean that everyone has to be skinny – I have a friend who played Tracy Turnblad in Hairspray and had to really work to maintain, and even gain weight for the role. In general, I do think the entertainment industry has gotten slightly better with regards to representing different kinds of bodies, and beauty in general, but the fact of the matter is, if you don’t look a certain way, you don’t work, and that usually means being thin, and really fit. But that doesn’t come from the actors – that comes from everyone around us. Agents, casting directors, directors, producers, heck, even corporate sponsors. The fact is, being an actor is like being in advertizing, only the product being sold is – YOU. If you watch Mad Men think of all those meetings where they talk about redesigning an ad, adjusting a product, using a different color background, going with a different “style.” Yup. That’s you. Everything from your hair color and cut, to your weight, to the clothes and make-up you wear affect your ability to be hired. At several theater conservatories, on the first day of senior year guys are told to gain thirty pounds of muscle, and girls are told to loose thirty pounds before the senior showcase.

Sure, there are actors who truly think they’re “all that”  - but that’s a human problem, not an actor problem. Most actors are concerned about their looks to the degree that it’s just something they have to maintain for their job.

This is where I have to offer a disclaimer. I think this issue is one of the big differences between NY and LA actors. Again, I’m making a generalization, but hear me out. In NY, most of the acting jobs available are theater related. And most of those are in the musical theater category. To be onstage, you MUST have some degree of talent. You just have to. You are up there eight times a week, and you have to be good. This is even more pronounced in musical theater. Sure, people get cast because of how they look, but at the end of the day you have to be able to sing and dance well, and there’s no getting around it. In LA, most of the work is TV and film related, where it is possible to get a decent performance out of someone with no skills whatsoever thanks to the wonders of editing, and retakes. I don’t consider these people serious actors, but the fact remains that serious actors are going to have to compete with them for jobs – in which case getting cast will COMPLETELY depend on how they look. Imagine if to get a job as a teacher, or a lawyer, or a doctor your looks were taken into account, sometimes ahead of your qualifications. Yeah. In general I would say this makes most actors, at least somewhat insecure about their looks. Not vain. There’s a reason we take so long to get ready for an audition. And it’s not because we like to. We’d far rather be able to go to an audition with no makeup, wearing sweats, and get to be judged purely on our technical abilities. Not the way we look.

                                                                 Actors are dumb

                         

Actors are not dumb. Non-actors who want to be famous frequently are. I feel like this stereotype comes from the fact that actors are almost always hired to fill a pre prescribed role. Often they’re not a creator on a project. They audition, are hired, and then are told what to do. Therefore they get a reputation as someone who needs to be held by the hand, ordered around, and are basically on par with a trained puppy. That’s a difficulty of the situation. Not our intelligence level.

In fact, unless you’re dealing with a really great director, our opinion is often of no importance. The show has already been created by the time we come on board, and if there’s something that needs to be changed, well, the creative team already has a rapport, and a history with the show and, since most actors are not writers or directors, their opinion is more apt to slow down the process. Not to mention the fact that there is typically ONE writer, ONE director, ONE composer, and DOZENS of actors. Theater is not a democracy. If it were, no show would ever open.

That means actors often can’t be outright smart. Sometimes, we have to be subtle.

Lets take into account, for example, those shows every actor has been a part of where one, or often, several members of the production team don’t know what they’re doing. I’ve had directors who refuse to set blocking, don’t show up to rehearsal, or down right haven’t even read the script. (MAJOR note: I’m talking about obvious, indisputable incompetence. This is not to be taken as an axiom that whenever you don’t like a director, you should assume they’re bad and do your own thing. That’s being an incompetent actor.) In those cases the actors are directing themselves. That takes mad skills, and great intelligence to pull off.

A potential grey area here are “green” actors. “Green” actors are actors who do not have much experience in the business. Typically they are fresh out of school and, though they may be talented, don’t really know the ins and outs of the business yet. In the most stereotypical sense, these are the girls who show up for a shady casting session in some guy’s living room where there’s nothing but a couch and a video camera, not realizing that something might be off. Yes, at one time we were all green. We may not have all been naïve (especially about a casting call in a shady apartment), but we were all innocent when we started – and that’s true of anyone starting out in any profession. The bottom line is: innocent does NOT equal stupid. If it did, you'd have to say most people under the age of fourteen are stupid. And (while some may claim they are,) I don’t believe it’s true. We all learn the ropes sooner or later. If we were stupid, we never would.

Actors know how to save and invest money. Often they start a retirement fund well before their non-actor peers. They know how to live frugally (one of my friends joked after the economy crashed that actors would be the only ones to make it through because they were the only demographic with true survival skills.) They are emotionally generous, and know that there are more important things in life than financial success. They read. They frequent libraries. They are culturally and artistically educated, and savvy, and have probably seen more art than any other population demographic (between research for a role, or audition, going to see their friend’s work, exploring the underground art scene, or simply wanting to feed themselves artistically they probably come the closest to seeing every theatrical production in a given area, not to mention films, art exhibits, dance shows and concerts.) In their heads they hold some of the greatest writing of all human existence, and more music then any ipod. They understand contractual negotiations. They know when to share a kernel of wisdom, and when to keep silent. They can convincingly play the most intelligent people in the world, not to mention convincingly pretend to have the most intellectual jobs – understanding the jargon, and basic operating procedures of lawyers, doctors, scientists, and presidents. To be a true actor you must be knowledgeable about, literally, everything.

You can not be a true actor without being intelligent. 

Except for some very talented, successful, well-known actors, most actors are “starving    artists” and need to grow up all ready and get a real job.

                                                  

I’ll make this short and sweet. There are a lot of non-famous actors who are very much working actors. Regional theater, tours, small roles in TV and film – out of these careers can be made. Yes, there are starving artists. Jonathan Larson was one. Katy Perry, Jim Carrey, and many, many others were too. Some wait decades for their big break. Some, like Larsen never make it in their lifetime. But thank God they stuck it out!

Just because our culture doesn’t support the arts the way it ideally should, doesn’t mean that we should consider a career in the arts a pipe dream. Can you imagine if every struggling artist just gave up? The world would be a miserable place. And we’d have a lot of depressed businessmen. It IS possible to have a career in the arts. It’s not always possible to be Angelina Jolie.

                      Seriously, how hard can it be? Practically anyone could do it.

                                           

You try it. Seriously. Go take an acting class. Go audition for a local theater. Oh, and be really good.

Statistically it is more competitive to get into Clown College then to get into Harvard. Many theatrical conservatories have classes of about thirty students. TOTAL. I hold a degree with high honors from New York University. In drama. I still study, and train daily. I’ve also had over twenty years of practical experience on stage, and in front of a camera. I’m not unusual. All professional actors have trained to be able to do what they do.  I truly think everyone has some artistic capacity. But lets just say it’s called a craft for a reason.

OMG! I love my cast! They’re totally like my family! I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t see them everyday! OMG!

                                                                     

                                     

Yup. A lot of times it’s true. Deep in your gut, no joke, true. And I know – it’s easy to poke fun at from the outside.

In the best circumstances, casts bond. It’s necessary. And yes, it can happen insanely fast. And it has to. That doesn’t always make it shallow or insincere. Performing is dangerous – physically and emotionally. I will be called upon to perform stage combat, fall in love, mourn, and celebrate with people I met two hours ago in a rehearsal room. Part of what we are trained to do as actors is to keep each other safe. Acting is reacting – and we are constantly aware of what’s going on with our acting partners. Actors also tend to be sensitively aware of other people. We know when someone’s not ok. Our partners allow us to be emotionally raw – not only without judgment, but with support and encouragement. Often that spills over into us sharing things about our personal life off stage.

This certainly doesn’t mean we always fall in love with our onstage love interest – that would be as ridiculous as saying we always despise our onstage nemesis. In fact, I know I personally am often closer with my onstage rival in real life. Playing that kind of relationship sometimes takes MORE trust.

A note regarding my comment about acting being physically dangerous. I would NEVER do anything truly dangerous onstage. I believe in safety no matter what. Never the less, I have been “drowned,” killed, and seriously assaulted onstage. And it takes a great deal of trust to be able to execute such things safely. Especially eight times a week.

Cast members are also all learning together. We may be trained actors, but usually we are all learning these lines, chords, and steps together. We struggle, and succeed together. We often spend more time together then we do with our families. We see each other every single day during the run of a show – and during rehearsals we are stuck with each other all day long. For weeks. Even months. Sometimes in a new town, state, country or even continent. Either we’re going to hate each other, or come to deeply care for, and rely on each other.

And - this is getting into tricky territory – it is true that many artists come from difficult, or sometimes non existent family situations (see comments on emotional trauma above.) Cast members really can become family. Yes, of course it’s often the case that cast members become close on a show, only to never see each other again, or to only reconnect when they happen to be cast together again. But I don’t believe that in the moment cast bonding, whether it lasts or not is insincere. Sometimes it’s just creating the bond of trust you need to successfully do the show. Sometimes it’s a long-term connection. All I know is that there are some actors I’ve worked with who have become my family in the truest sense of the word. I consider them my brothers, sisters, aunts and uncles. I call them in a crisis. We’ve shared life events. I’ve never had a “showmance” (a romance that only lasts for the life of a show. Sometimes less…) But I have found my adopted family in rehearsal rooms. Even people I bonded with on shows who are not a daily part of my life retain that sense of trust and connection – and I would love to reconnect and jump into another project with them. Actor bonding may sound like fluff, but there’s nothing insincere, or shallow about it.

                                           I wanna be an actor ‘cause I wanna be famous!

                                                          

Lets just say, there are a lot easier, and faster ways to become famous then becoming a serious actor. No one suffers through being a starving artist purely to be famous.

And for anyone whose sole goal IS being famous – I feel sorry for them. I have worked with famous actors. I’ve experienced it by proxy. It’s far from fun. I liken it to this: If you’re a judge, you go to work, put on your robes, and become a “Judge.” Then at the end of the day you take them off and get to go home and be yourself. When you’re famous – the “robe” never comes off. Remember the idea of actors being their own product? When you’re famous – you’re a walking commodity. And you never get to take off the mask. Yes, it’s wonderful to be respected and lauded for your work. But being famous is another animal entirely. It can potentially come with the job, yes. But it’s not the spoils. It’s the challenge to overcome.

The theatrical community is a hotbed of moral depravity. Actors are sluts, and alcoholics. No child of mine is going into the arts!

                              

 This has been a stereotype since the dawn of theater. Yeah, there’s inappropriate behavior. AND highly moral behavior. Just like everywhere. Going into the arts will not make you an immoral person. And don’t use it as an excuse to keep your child out of the arts. Instead, help them develop deep values that won’t be affected no matter where they go, or what they do. Besides, if there IS immorality in the arts – don’t we need more people of integrity to go into the field?

In conclusion….

Yes, there are unintelligent actors, just like there are unintelligent – everythings! But I beg you – in the future when dealing with actors, assume intelligence until proven stupid. Not the other way around. Whether you’re in the industry, or even just at a party where your waiter happens to be a struggling actor. Treat them with respect. They are probably smarter, and hold more credentials then many of the guests. They have taken up a noble crusade – and if it weren’t for them, there would be no theater, film, or television. One of the tragic things I’ve noticed, that so far has gone unmentioned, is that actors are the one artistic demographic that will most likely never be in the position of being able to give someone a job. Writers create projects that will employ entire production teams, and casts of actors. Directors, producers, almost everyone else can get you a job. But not an actor. Unless they’re well known, there’s no reason to network with them. So they are often treated as insignificant. But actors are creators too. One only has to spend five minutes in a rehearsal with poorly cast actors to know that they carry every bit as much weight as a writer, or director. We know what we’re doing. Trust us.