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I find this more than a little moving.  What struggling artist hasn’t felt this way and how many artists have fallen along the wayside before they found any kind of success?  It’s only been through the support of my lovely family and friends that I’ve been able to persevere.  Take a look.  I guarantee it will be time well spent.

Fletcher

Following Ang Lee’s second Best Directing win at the Academy Awards last night, this beautiful essay resurfaced. Here is my translation of Ang Lee’s words, written in 2006 (post-Oscar win). Please credit the translation to Irene Shih (and to this blog), thank you!

In 1978, as I applied to study film at the University of Illinois, my father vehemently objected. He quoted me a statistic: ‘Every year, 50,000 performers compete for 200 available roles on Broadway.’ Against his advice, I boarded a flight to the U.S. This strained our relationship. In the two decades following, we exchanged less than a hundred phrases in conversation.

Some years later, when I graduated film school, I came to comprehend my father’s concern. It was nearly unheard of for a Chinese newcomer to make it in the American film industry.

Beginning in 1983, I struggled through six years of agonizing, hopeless uncertainty. Much of the time, I was helping film crews with their equipment or working as editor’s assistant, among other miscellaneous duties. My most painful experience involved shopping a screenplay at more than thirty different production companies, and being met with harsh rejection each time.

That year, I turned 30. There’s an old Chinese saying: ‘At 30, one stands firm.’ Yet, I couldn’t even support myself. What could I do? Keep waiting, or give up my movie-making dream? My wife gave me invaluable support.

My wife was my college classmate. She was a biology major, and after graduation, went to work for a small pharmaceutical research lab. Her income was terribly modest. At the time, we already had our elder son, Haan, to raise. To appease my own feelings of guilt, I took on all housework – cooking, cleaning, taking care of our son – in addition to reading, reviewing films and writing scripts. Every evening after preparing dinner, I would sit on the front steps with Haan, telling him stories as we waited for his mother – the heroic huntress – to come home with our sustenance (income).

This kind of life felt rather undignified for a man. At one point, my in-laws gave their daughter (my wife) a sum of money, intended as start-up capital for me to open a Chinese restaurant – hoping that a business would help support my family. But my wife refused the money. When I found out about this exchange, I stayed up several nights and finally decided: This dream of mine is not meant to be. I must face reality.

Afterward (and with a heavy heart), I enrolled in a computer course at a nearby community college. At a time when employment trumped all other considerations, it seemed that only a knowledge of computers could quickly make me employable. For the days that followed, I descended into malaise. My wife, noticing my unusual demeanor, discovered a schedule of classes tucked in my bag. She made no comment that night.

The next morning, right before she got in her car to head off to work, my wife turned back and – standing there on our front steps – said, ‘Ang, don’t forget your dream.’

And that dream of mine – drowned by demands of reality – came back to life. As my wife drove off, I took the class schedule out of my bag and slowly, deliberately tore it to pieces. And tossed it in the trash.

Sometime after, I obtained funding for my screenplay, and began to shoot my own films. And after that, a few of my films started to win international awards. Recalling earlier times, my wife confessed, ‘I’ve always believed that you only need one gift. Your gift is making films. There are so many people studying computers already, they don’t need an Ang Lee to do that. If you want that golden statue, you have to commit to the dream.’

And today, I’ve finally won that golden statue. I think my own perseverance and my wife’s immeasurable sacrifice have finally met their reward. And I am now more assured than ever before: I must continue making films.

You see, I have this never-ending dream.

http://whatshihsaid.com/2013/02/26/ang-lee-a-never-ending-dream/


Not living in the world of musical theatre, I am happy to hear from anyone with experience in that arena.  Mr. McLellan shares his thoughts on auditioning with music.  Please feel free to chime in if any of you folks out there have anything to add.  For those of you singing at the Milwaukee Generals, know that you are blessed to have the talents of Richard Carsey at your disposal.

Fletcher

 

Hi Fletch,

I was recently helping some actors prepare for the upcoming generals audition and I thought I might add a few ideas to your advice column from January 9th.  I should quickly note that I am on board with everything you already mentioned.  The thoughts I wanted to add were in regard to this year’s new addition of an accompanist and the option to sing.  I have broken my thoughts down into “Song Choice” and “Working with the Accompanist.”

SONG CHOICE:

Your song choice will quickly give information to the auditors about your experience and professionalism.  There are lots of rules out there about which songs to avoid.  I recommend googling “musical theatre audition songs to avoid” and scan the different lists out there.  Everyone has varying opinions on what is good and what isn’t, but you will definitely see common themes.  Don’t pick a composer that is too taxing on the accompanist (Sondheim, Jason Robert Brown, Etc.).  Don’t do a song from the current “hit musical” (i.e. Wicked, Phantom, Next to Normal, Shrek, etc.)  Avoid “signature” songs such as “Don’t Rain on my Parade” or “Over the Rainbow.”  The rules go on and on.  I am not saying a song choice has to be perfect.  Just make sure you are aware of the red flags.

The length of your audition song should be 16-32 bars or no longer than 1 minute.  For this type of audition, 16 bars is more than enough time for the auditors to learn what they need to know about your voice.  I always recommend starting at the end of a song, then count the measures backwards.  You will probably find a good starting place somewhere around 20 measures from the end of the song.

Make sure to pick a song that is comfortable for your voice and shows your range.  There is nothing worse than hearing someone sing a song that is outside their abilities.  Sing a song that feels great on your voice.  If you enjoy singing then we will feel it and enjoy your audition.

WORKING WITH THE ACCOMPANIST:

For approximately 2 minutes the accompanist will be your best friend in the whole world.  Please be nice to him/her.  Keep in mind that he/she has been sight reading all day, so a great way to be nice is to be prepared in how you present your music.  Make sure the pages are either double sided in a 3-ring binder or taped together as one long page.  DO NOT hand your accompanist a bunch of individual pages.  Avoid handing your accompanist an entire bound book of music.  Also make sure to clearly note where you want to start and finish, any cuts in between, and any big key changes.  If there is anything weird that happens in the music, then you will want to briefly point this out to your accompanist as well.

Know your desired tempo and practice how you will tell the tempo to your accompanist.  Sometimes nerves can get the best of an actor and the tempo they tap out for the accompanist is much faster than they intended.  If you are going to hum a few bars to set the tempo, make sure you are honoring rests in the music.  If you barrel over the rests then you will misrepresent your needs.

If you start your audition and the tempo doesn’t seem right, just keep singing the exact tempo that you want.  The accompanist will be able to follow you and play at your pace.  DO NOT stop your song to fix the tempo.

This probably goes without saying, but I will say it anyway.  Make sure you have practiced with an accompanist.  Don’t assume that you will be able to sing with the piano if your only preparation has been to sing with the Original Broadway Cast Recording.

You might be planning to sing a capella.  In this case, I can’t predict how each auditor will react.  For me, I am not that interested in a capella singing.  It just doesn’t tell me much.  I would prefer to see two great monologues.  If you are a great actor and I see that you have some musical theater experience, then I will probably call you back anyway.  I am interested in hiring “actors who sing,” so I don’t expect everyone to be a trained singer.  I have yet to see an a capella audition go well.  But this perspective is specific to my own casting needs.  Other auditors might feel differently.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

Please keep in mind that all of these suggestions are only my opinion.  Each auditor will have a different perspective and I encourage others to chime in if they feel differently about some of these points.  Also remember that everyone behind the table wants each actor to be the best they can be.  We want you to feel comfortable so you can be great.  So prepare for this audition as much as you can, but once you walk into that room you just need to take a deep breath, be yourself, and perform the audition to the best of your ability.  Everything else will fall into place.

Dave McLellan

Theater Coordinator

Zoological Society of Milwaukee / Kohl’s Wild Theater

wildtheater.org


The Milwaukee Generals are coming up.  Don’t let your resume get in the way of your audition!

F

Attaching your Resume to your Headshot

Your resume is your first impression.  Oftentimes it precedes you into the room…and it can make us hate you before we even see your face.  Here are some hateful things you can avoid.  Please note that I say all of this with a little love in my heart because these mistakes are almost always made by people who are just getting into the business.  How would they know?  Well they should have asked someone, but in case they couldn’t find someone or received bad advice, here goes.

The Bigger than the Headshot Resume

You’ve got an 8×10 headshot and you’ve printed your resume on an 8 1/2x 11 piece of paper and stuck it on the back.  Why did you not trim it down to size?  It’s now awkward and hard to file.  Take the time and make sure it’s neatly trimmed.  I know it’s a pain in the ass and I curse the fact that our headshots aren’t just 8 1/2×11, but that’s just the way it is.  Not trimming your resume just makes me think that you’re unprofessional, or were rushed, or are a slob, or are all of these things.  None of these things help you.

The Paper Clip Resume

You’ve used a paperclip to attach your resume to your headshot.  Invest in a stapler.  Your paper clip gets caught up in all sorts of things and has the opportunity to become dislodged ensuring that I’ll never see it or you again.

The “I’m Saving the World One Staple at a Time” Resume

You’ve stapled your resume to your headshot (congrats on graduating from the paper clip), but you’ve only used one.  Your resume is now flapping in the wind which is quite annoying.  Secure the damn thing!  And not with two staples either; break the bank and put a staple in all four corners.

The Bigger than the Headshot Resume which is Paper Clipped or One Stapled to your Resume AND is also Backwards

You’re a special kind of hateful.  You’ve made it nearly impossible to read your resume, thus defeating your audition.  I want to turn your headshot over and read your resume…quickly!  I don’t want to take extra steps to do so.  Special bonus if it’s also upside down.

The “I’m so Talented that I couldn’t Fit All of My Credits onto One Piece of Paper” Resume

Are you really that talented?  Is everything on your resume so important that you can’t possibly get it on one piece of paper, therefore you extend your resume to two or even three pieces of paper?  I’ve got two words for you: snip, snip.  There are actors in this town that have done hundreds of shows.  The idea isn’t to share every one of them, it’s to share representative roles.  Give me a wide variety of roles from the best theatre companies and/or the best directors.  Show me that you can sing and move and play Shakespeare.  If you’ve got that many roles get rid of your academic credits or the credits from the store-front theatre in Nebraska that only lasted a season that no one ever heard of.  And I’ve got nothing against Nebraska.  It could have been Arkansas.

The Proper Size Resume with the Wrong Size Head Shot Resume

Look, I get it.  Headshots are expensive and every few years the industry is telling us they want something different.  Matte, glossy, borders, no borders, black and white, color… Yup, it sucks, but that’s what you’ve signed on for.  I just received a resume with a headshot the size of a high school year book photo.  You know, the kind you get in the Gold package so that you have enough to mail out to all of your friends and family.  It was the size of a business card AND it wasn’t attached.  We had to ask the monitor to give us a little extra time so that we could pass them around separately from the resume.  What are we going to do with that?

And this is just attaching your resume to your headshot.  There are all sorts of other land mines to overcome in your audition, don’t let your resume be the thing that sinks you before you even open your mouth.

The Body of a Resume

So let’s look at fictional actor, Chris Fettle.  Chris is just starting out in his career, so it’s no surprise that there’s not much on it.

Chris Fettle Resume 1

Nothing much wrong here, but there could be improvement.  I don’t care that he doesn’t have much on his resume, but I do care that he’s not put down his directors.  And get rid of Actor.  We’ll just assume that.  We’ll see how Chris advances.

Chris Fettle 2

 

Here he is several years later and he has done a nice job in that I’ve got his name and he’s laid his theatre experience out cleanly.  I don’t think it’s a terribly good idea to put your address on there.  Once these resumes leave your hand you don’t know what’s going to become of them.  The most unscrupulous type of auditors (and I’ve never known this to be the case in Milwaukee) sell your information.  Don’t give them the ability to do so.  We’ve got the vitals, which is good, but it could be done in a more appealing manner.

On to the shows themselves.  Nice mix of shows.  There are a few classical plays on there and a couple of musicals.  He’s also worked at most of these places more than once which presupposes that they liked him enough to hire him back.  He’s got his college credits on there, which is just fine.  Assuming he advances his way in the field, he’ll eventually start working those out of the rotation.

The big thing I’m missing here are the Directors.  Who directed these shows?  That’s important information and must be included on the resume.

So let’s clean up Chris’ resume.

Chris Fettle 3

 

We’ve got rid of the address, the resume’s a little cleaner, and I’ve got the information I need.  Assuming I’m interested and I know a few of these people he’s worked with, I’m going to start making some calls.  So make sure you’ve actually worked at the theatres on your resume and make sure you’ve actually played the parts as opposed to simply understudying them.

This is Chris early in his professional career.  Let’s examine the possibility of where Chris might end up a few years from now.

Chris Fettle 4

 

Ack!  These are the resumes that absolutely drive me nutty.  What’s happened to our little hero?  Methinks things haven’t turned out so well.  In an effort to make himself seem really successful he’s bound and determined to fill every inch of space on his resume.  To do so, he’s decreased the size of his font making it even less likely I’ll be able to find the info I’m seeking.  He’s also left me no room to take notes.  What I can tell is that he’s only working at theatres and with directors once.  This leads me to believe that while he may be a good or voracious auditioner, things don’t work out so well in the actual productions.

Actor?  Really?  Again?  He cleaned this up for a bit, but now he’s back.  Let’s just assume I know you’re an actor.  Why else would you be here?

It may be helpful to others, but I’m only looking at you for theatre experience, I don’t care about your film credits especially if I’ve never heard of them and you’re playing extras.  That doesn’t tell me a thing.

Don’t tell me your age range.  Why would you do such a thing?  Let me decide what age range you can play.  All you’ve done is limited yourself and made the inference that I’m too stupid to figure it out for myself.

This is just me, but I don’t care if you’ve won an award.  What good does that do me?  It’s unlikely that I’ve seen the show in question and smacks of…something.

So to sum up

The Bottom of Your Resume

 

This is where most people put their Education and Training and their Special Skills.  Let’s deal with Special Skills first:

Special Skills

 

Special Skills should be…well, special.  Now look, I don’t think many people are going to win or lose jobs by what they put in this section, but sometimes we’re looking for a unique talent.  This section is also more likely to help you in a one-on-one audition where the auditor might have a little more time to spend with you than in a large group audition.

That having been said, putting quite ordinary things here makes me question your sense.  Let’s take a look at actual skills listed on people’s resumes:

Dancing (various)

Now I’ll get to dialects a little later, but I think with dancing you should be very specific about what types and how long you’ve trained.  Listing your teachers here is also a good idea.  And while this is a special skill, it might be more appropriate to list this under Education and Training.

Special Skills: Running, Quick Study

Running?  How does this help you on the stage unless you’re doing it the entire play.

Quick Study?  I hope so, but unless there’s a bunch of people putting “Slow Study” on their resumes, I’m not sure how much it’s helping you.

Driving Stickshift or Valid Driver’s License

This may be helpful in Film work, but I’m not sure how it applies to theatre.

Stage Combat

Just Stage Combat.  Not who taught you or what kind of Stage Combat you’ve had.  Did you throw a pie once?  Get hit by a spit take?  Get hit by a pillow?  I don’t know what this means and the fact that you didn’t go into more detail leads me to believe that you’ve had no real training.  This also might be better listed under Education and Training.

Flexibility

Um, okay.

Very Basic Juggling

Well then it’s not really a Special Skill, is it?  Every actor I know can juggle.  Unless you’re great and can juggle a knife, a bowling bowl and a shark at the same time, I’m not impressed.  Actually, if you can do that, call me immediately.

Craft Services

This would be interesting if I was looking at you for a commercial gig, but then I wouldn’t be auditioning you as an actor.

Computer Literate

This is not an IT position.

Motorcycle Repair

What do I do with that?

Lighting design

Great, but I’m looking at you as an actor.  Apply for a tech position at the appropriate time.

Can work without glasses

I certainly hope so, but this person auditioned without glasses.  Now I’m wondering if it was a lucky fluke that he didn’t bump into something.

Fashion Sensibilities:

Ah, hah, hah!

Comedic Training

What?

Water Skiing:

Being a water skier myself, I know just how unlikely this is to help you on stage.

And again, some of these things might be useful for a film audition, but then save them for that resume.

So what should go in this section?  I’ll try to list the things that I find useful or at the very least interesting.  And some that just make me smile.

Dance Training:

As I said this is a perfect thing to list here, but again, be specific.  What type of dance, where you took it and how many years you trained.  If you’ve trained all over the place no need to go into every class you ever took, just give us a representative idea.

Dialects:

I assume that any actor worth his salt can handle dialects.  Where we get into trouble here is when people make a long list of the dialects they’re proficient at.  Here’s one example:

Dialects- Irish, English (North Country, Upper Class), American (Standard, Southern, NY, Boston), Spanish, Arabic (Israeli, Palestinian, Persian).

It’s not that I doubt this person, but she might have better served by writing Dialects on request, or proficient in Dialects.

Do you play an instrument?  Many instruments?  Do let us know.

Are you fluent in a foreign language?  That might get you a job right there.  Sign language is also a useful skill to list.

Certified Actor Combatant:

Yup, let us know that and what you’re certified in: Unarmed, Quarterstaff, Broadsword, Rapier and Dagger.  Taking a weekend course or being involved in a single play hardly qualifies here.  Be honest about your skill level.  Also, if you’ve been the Fight Captain for a play, let us know.  It might not get you extra work, but if you’re cast it might get you a little extra pay.

Martial arts Training:

Always good to know.

Here is a list of things that I find interesting in a good way.  If the right part requires one of these skills, listing it might just get you the job:

Professional Circus Clown

Fire Breathing

Fire Juggling (bonus if it’s with fire sharks)

Unicycling

Bullwhip Cracking

Trick Roping

Aerial Circus Arts (trapeze, lyra, cradle, cloud swing)

And finally, here’s a list of things that really don’t have much to do with anything, but make me giggle and just might open up a conversation which allows you to reveal some personality and make a connection with the auditor:

Dolphin Sounds

Baby Crying

Happy Baby Sounds

Barking

Christopher Walken Impression (everyone loves a good Christopher Walken)

Excellent Whistler

Can walk and Dance conjoined to another

Chewbacca Impression

And the single best special skill I’ve ever seen listed; Mock.  You’ll have to get John Maclay to tell you about that.

Now if you list one of these things as a special skill, you’d best be able to produce.  Don’t put down Walken unless you can nail him.

Education and Training

 

This is a good place to name drop while getting some pertinent information across, but use this space wisely.  Some people will list every class they’ve ever taken and when all is said and done, this section covers half their resume.  Keep it short and sweet and relevant.  This section belongs at the bottom of your resume along with Special Skills.

Do you have a BA, BFA or MFA?  That’s relevant.  Did you take a weekend class with Anne Bogart?  Not so much.  There are very few things you can learn in a weekend that are going to qualify you to be proficient in anything.  Were you an intern at the Milwaukee Rep?  Put it down.  Studied theatre abroad for a year?  Mark it.  In the Company Class at First Stage?  Bingo.

And do include the teacher’s names.  Theatre is a small world and it’s likely that we’ve worked with some of these people in the past.  Now this is more likely to help you in a more intimate situation than the Milwaukee Generals; a situation where you have time to sit down and talk to the auditor.  And if they are thinking of hiring you they will call some of these people, so don’t lie.  An hour long intro to stage combat is not the same thing as being a Certified Actor/Combatant.  Just be honest here as elsewhere on your resume.

Obviously as you gain more experience you can begin working out your earliest experience.  The big things that matter here are Acting, Voice (and by this I also mean Singing), Dance, and Stage Combat.  Acting for the Camera is great to have, but again, save that for your commercial resume.  It won’t hurt to include your experience with Improv, Clowning and Mime work, and Textual Analysis, but I assume you’ve gotten some or all of that with any extended program.  Just make sure this section doesn’t start becoming the focus of your resume.

Now here are things that won’t help you, and they are things I’ve come across on actual resumes:

Acting: High School Drama Classes, College Level Theatre Classes:

What do I make of this?  I don’t know who taught these classes or what they consisted of.

Numerous Drama Courses through school:

See above.

Voice and Speech: Several classes.  My career involves my voice.

Oh really?  Several classes?  How does that help me?  And I certainly hope your career involves your voice, but how does that info make me want to cast you?

Shakespeare & Company Weekend Intensive:

I’ve covered that sort of thing.

Be honest.  No one will hold it against you if you’re just starting out in this business and don’t have much to fill in here, but you’ll end up looking silly if you include a bunch of things just to make it look like you’ve done more.  Keep this part of your resume as clean and clear as the rest and you’ll be just fine.

Fletcher


We’re approaching the Milwaukee Generals once again, so I’m reposting some of my thoughts about that process.  Do with it what you will.

Fletcher

Having sat through the Milwaukee Generals for the last several years, I’ve come across all sorts of things that auditioners do which sabotage the work at hand.  While many of these gaffes seem obvious to me, that may not be the case with the often unseasoned auditioner.  To be fair, how does one know unless they are told?  I understand just how hard and awful the process of auditioning is having been an actor for the last few decades.  To that end I’ve decided to share some of the dos and don’ts of auditioning.  I throw in the caveat that these are strictly from my own viewpoint and that while they deal with auditioning in general, they are specific to the peculiarities of myself and the Milwaukee Generals.

 

I’m dividing this “tutorial” into three parts: The Introduction, The Headshot and Resume, and The Audition.

 

The Introduction

 

If you have the chance (and that’s a big if) take a peek at the room you are going to walk into ahead of time.  Auditioning is an intimidating thing and walking into a room blind is hateful.  Find out where the auditors are going to be sitting and figure out where you are going to sit or stand.  Find out if there is a chair available and what kind it is.  Nothing worse then preparing a piece that requires you to spin a chair around and sit on it backwards only to find that the only chair available has arms.  And for those of you new to the Milwaukee Generals, you are walking into a room to face a group of auditors in a horseshoe configuration.

 

If you walk into the room and you find that there are auditors behind you, you’ve come in too far.  Back up so that we can see your face.

 

Take your time introducing yourself and your pieces.  Know that we are furiously passing your headshots around as quickly as we can, flipping them over and pouring over your resume, and then trying to catch what pieces you are going to do and in many cases trying to jot that information down.  We see a great many auditions during the course of the day and it’s extremely difficult to keep them straight.  Give us a chance to remember you.  I’ll never fault an auditioner for taking his time introducing his pieces.  When in doubt, wait until the majority of us have finished and are looking back up at you before you begin your first piece.

 

Don’t undress in the room.  This is a rather new phenomenon that has started happening lately.  When you walk into the room, be prepared to go.  I don’t want to see you come in, and then slowly take off a coat, scarf, shirt or any other thing as you are introducing yourself.  That’s weird and distracting.  Leave that stuff outside.

 

This is for both your intro and exit; don’t apologize for your audition.  Look, you only get one shot at this, so no matter how poorly you’ve prepared or think you’ve done during the audition, do it boldly and with a smile on your face.  I can’t tell you how many people come into the room with the attitude of, “Uh, hi.  I don’t really know why I’m here and I’m sorry to waste your time.”  Conversely I’ve seen a lot of people who have finished a perfectly fine audition and then ruin it by sheepishly excusing themselves on the way out.  Don’t do it!  It sucks all of the energy out of your audition.

 

Generally speaking, goofy introductions and/or exits will fall flat and have a good chance of being irritating.  I know it’s a defensive thing, but just don’t do it.  Come in, smile and introduce yourself.  When you are finished, say thank you.  Resist the urge to ask us if we have any questions or if there’s anything else we’d like to see.  Trust me; if we have those questions we won’t let you leave the room until we know the answers.

 

Give us the info we need.  It has become fashionable of late to name the play your audition is from, but not the part; or worse yet, not tell us anything at all.  This seems particularly true of Shakespeare.  Don’t make it a guessing game.  Conversely, don’t give us too much information.  In most cases I don’t need to know the author and I certainly don’t need to be told that Hamlet was written by Shakespeare.  And I absolutely don’t need to know the specific scene or get a recap of what’s been going on leading into this scene.  While we are on the subject of introducing your pieces, proceed to do your pieces in the order in which they were introduced.  Different auditors are there for different reasons.  Shakespeare companies have less interest in your modern/comic piece and are waiting for the Macbeth you are going to do.  If you say you are going to do your classical piece second, do so.  They may use that brief period of time to scan your resume and see what other classical pieces you have done and where.

 

The one thing most people come up short on is the intro.  I spend a whole day with my students having them do nothing but walking into a room and introducing themselves.  This is surprisingly difficult and few people spend any time on that part of their audition.  People actually stumble over their names, forget what pieces they are doing, mispronounce the playwright’s name (which is just one more reason that info is unnecessary), mumble their info in such a way that we don’t get it or turn their back and drag a chair across the room while making their intro.  Enter the room.  If you are going to use a chair make a decision; either get the chair, pick it up and set it where you want it and then introduce yourself, or introduce yourself and then get set.  Trust me; we will welcome the extra time to look at your resume.

 

Unless we stand up and stick our hands out, no need to come over and shake our hands.  We’re going to see about a hundred people that day.  There are also upwards of twenty people in that room and you won’t want to shake all of our hands.

 

The Headshot and Resume

 

Look like your headshot.  It’s bothersome when you don’t.  You’re a little heavier than you’d like to be?  So what.  Maybe we’re looking for just that heavy person.  It’s going to be very difficult to remember you later if you don’t look like your headshot.

 

Staple or glue your resume to your headshot.  I can’t tell you how irritating it is to get a loose resume.  Or one that is paper-clipped to the headshot actually covering the headshot.  That might just make me hate you right then and there.  And take the time to trim it to fit.  I file these away and those odd sized ones just might not make it into my filing cabinet.

 

While we’re on the subject of attaching your resume, don’t attach anything else.  I’m really happy you’re currently employed with your one-man show, but I don’t want a flyer or postcard attached advertising said show.

 

Leave whitespace on your resume.  We’re doing everything we can to remember the interesting things about you in case we should want to cast you.  If you jamb-pack your resume from margin to margin we have no room for such notes.  It also makes them hard to read and smacks of desperation.  “Look how much I’ve done!”  We don’t need to know everything you’ve done and if you have stuff on there from twenty years ago you might think about some judicial editing.

 

Use a decent sized font.  We’re at this all day and  in my case, my eyes get tired.  If you give me an 8 point font I’ll want to throw your resume in the discard pile then and there.  Also, weird or funny fonts piss me off.  It just adds an extra hurdle where I don’t need one.

 

There is a somewhat uniform way of setting up your resume.  Feel free to diverge, but just know that doing so will increase the likelihood that I won’t be able to find the info I’m looking for.  At the top should be your name and under that your vitals.  Height, weight, eye color, hair color, telephone and email address.  If you are a singer you may want to put your vocal range.  Do not give us your address.  In this day and age that simply isn’t safe and every now and then you send your resume to an unscrupulous person who turns around and sells your resume to other places.  Don’t include your age or tell us what your age range is.  That’s our job and why would you want to limit yourself that way?  Likewise, don’t include the dates of your productions.

 

Below your name and vitals should come the body of your resume which is your stage experience.  There are four things I want to know here: the theatre you worked at, the show you did, the part you played and who directed you.  Set them up in neat columns so that I can easily scan through them.  Don’t be afraid to list multiple shows with one theatre, that’s a good thing; that says that you worked at that theatre and they liked you enough to ask you back.  I am very leery of the auditionee that has 30 theatres listed and has only one show at each of them.

 

Below the stage experience section should be your education and special skills.  Still in high school?  It’s okay, we won’t hold it against you so don’t be ashamed of it.  Tell us where you went to school and who some of your teachers were (those names may open a conversation), but leave your GPA off.    I’m not really interested if you took a weekend class here or there.  Special skills should be special.  I don’t know how special having a driver’s license is.  Fire eating is more impressive (although at this last audition every other person had that listed) and I certainly want to know if you can speak a foreign language fluently.  I assume a good actor can learn dialects, so for me I don’t really care.

 

You may have a lot of film and/or TV credits; you may have a lot of directing credits.  I don’t care.  In this day and age you should be able to have several different resumes at your disposal.  If you are coming to the Milwaukee Generals, cater your resume to your clients, which are almost exclusively theatres.

 

Have enough resumes.  We don’t like sharing.

 

Don’t lie on your resume.  You will be busted and then you lose all credibility.  If you took a weekend class don’t make it sound like you received a degree.  If you took a beginning improv class don’t say you are part of the troope.  We know, we always know.

 

The Audition

 

So now we come to the heart of the matter.  First know that within the first ten or fifteen seconds we know if we like you or not.  Sometimes we’ve already made up our minds during the intro.  That’s just the way it goes.  Knowing that, limit the length of your pieces.  They really should be no longer than a minute a piece.  I spent one whole afternoon timing auditions.  I would look down at my watch when I started to lose interest and it was always between 55 and 65 seconds.  Even if you’re great, going beyond that is too much.  This past year many people were going over three minutes and that was just for one of their pieces.  Leave us wanting more.

 

Pick pieces that are superb.  Good is not good enough.  Good will be forgotten.  Knock our socks off!

 

In picking your pieces be very selective.  If you choose something offensive it is likely to offend and turn off at least a few people in the room.  Have a really good reason for picking a piece.

 

Don’t do stand up.  I’ve never seen it work and theatre is not stand up.  I’ve also never seen a piece that someone has written for himself work.

 

Contrast your pieces.  That doesn’t mean that one has to be modern comic and the other classical dramatic.  You can contrast two modern funny pieces and I will be quite delighted.  But standing during one and sitting during the other is not contrast.  Show us two different sides of yourself and hopefully those are different than your introduction.  Remember that your intro is a chance to show us a different side of yourself that will be contrasted by your two pieces.  Prove that you can act.

 

Don’t do serial killer monologues.  They are overdone and not usually all that interesting.

 

Don’t find a monologue in a monologue book.  They generally aren’t very good and they are overused.  Nothing like seeing the same bad monologue four times in the same day.  Read plays, lots of them, and find something that speaks to you.

 

People bend over backwards trying to find the obscure Shakespeare piece that no one has ever seen.  In doing so they generally pick something from one of Shakespeare’s lesser known plays.  You know why they are lesser known?  Because they’re not as good.  You know what I’ve never seen?  Someone audition with “To be or not to be.”

 

Don’t try to memorize pieces the week of.  You should constantly be working on monologues and finding new pieces and the only way to do that is to constantly be searching for them.  Actors constantly seem surprised when an audition is coming up and they have no material prepared.

 

Don’t wear anything that is more disturbing or more interesting than you.  I’ll spend the whole audition wondering, “Why did he wear that?” instead of watching your audition.  Look nice, but make sure you are comfortable and can move around.

 

Your pieces should actually be scenes in which you are engaged in some kind of action as opposed to telling us a funny story.  I want to see your struggle, not you charming me with a funny anecdote.

 

Fell free to use me as your point of focus.  Not everyone is okay with that, but I generally am.  However, if you stand two feet in front of me and confront me, you’re going to lose me.  I’ll still stare straight at you and be the best audience I can, but I’m no longer really watching you.  I’m beginning to wonder if you’re crazy enough to jump the table, and others in the room are concentrating on the same thing.

 

After you are done with a piece do not say scene.  Worse yet, do not wave your hand in front of your face and say scene.

 

Do make your transitions clear and clean.  Do something, usually a physical move, to let us know one piece has ended and the next has begun.  Of course if they are highly contrastable pieces, that shouldn’t be a problem.

 

If you have an emotional piece and are able to go to that place, good for you.  If you end that piece and take a long time coming out of it and composing yourself, showing us just how hard that was, I will no longer love you.

 

If you get off to a bad start ask if you can start over.  We will always say yes.

 

No props.  We’ll see the letter in your hand if you are invested in your scene.  And never, ever, ever…NEVER! bring a gun into the room.  Especially not one loaded with a half-charge blank which you then hold to your head and pull the trigger.  Sigh.  It now needs to be said.

 

 

 

And that’s my spiel.  I’m sure other things will come to mind and I’ll update this from time to time.  I also welcome observations from other auditors whether they agree with me or not.  Know that during the course of my stumbling career I have made many of these mistakes myself, and it was only because some kind person took me in hand that I got past them.  Be bold and good luck.


Kennedy as Bobby Galena 

Robert W.C. Kennedy is a man of many names.  The W.C. is a mystery to all but his closest friends and family, but his nicknames (all given with love) are well known: The Detective, The Department Store of Technique, The Golden Pharaoh, and of course, The Deacon.  And if you’ve been a patron of theatre in Milwaukee over the last decade or so, you’ve seen his work on any number of stages.

Master Kennedy been a huge part of the success of Bunny Gumbo having appeared in more Combat pieces than any other actor.  He’s also appeared in the Bunny Gumbo productions, ‘Losers’ portraying Kurt (a part that was written for him), and has the distinction of being the only actor to portray a part in all three plays of ‘Criminal Acts.’

Indeed, it’s hard not to run into Robert if you spend any time in Milwaukee.  He’s a lifelong patron of the Milwaukee Transit System, bartends at Irish Fest,  routinely shows up in short films made in the Cream City, and can occasionally be found supping at Real Chile with Bai Ling.  He’s a good guy to know, so let’s get to it.

Kennedy in Bialystock & Bloom’s production of “Search and Destroy” 

How did you first get involved in theatre?

My First Grade Thanksgiving pageant found me playing an apple. The producers admired how I peeled back the layers to get to the core of that character and cast me in the role of John F. Kennedy for some sort of patriotic revue that they were fond of in southern Indiana during the lead up to the U.S. Bicentennial celebration. (There is no way I was cast solely on name alone.) I enjoyed the chicks you got as JFK, and I was hooked. I played Bobby Shaftoe in “Babes in Toyland” a year or two after that, before taking a 10-year hiatus and moving north.

I didn’t take to the stage again until my senior year of high school, having spent the previous three primarily occupied with Dungeons & Dragons. During that year, I was in the chorus of “HMS Pinafore,” played Captain Ahab in a course stage version of “Moby Dick,” and Julius Caesar and others in the senior follies program.

I went off to college with big plans to major in anything but theatre.  I took one introductory course that covered all aspects of the theatre craft, from performance to the technical. When it came time for the final projects, my fellow students wanted to keep me far away from anything heavy or electric, and I was assigned the job of “actor.” So, I played the guy in a scene from “Same Time Next Year” while others did the important stuff.

The slightly older young woman playing opposite me wore a slip in the scene. I thought I might like to spend more time around women in their underwear, so I pulled a bit of a grift with the assistance of my older brother to secure one of the hard-to-get spots in an introduction to acting class. I still had no intention of taking this on as a major.

Kennedy in Skylight’s production of “The Music Man”

Well, it was just too much damn fun, and everyone seemed to appreciate me in that environment, including the instructor who suggested I audition for (what was then) the Acting Specialist program. I really wish I could remember what piece I auditioned with, but I found out much later that the conversation in the room after I left pretty much centered around “Does he always dress like that?” (Those who knew me then will understand…)

I guess I didn’t realize that I was actually taking Theatre and Drama on as a major, but that’s what happened. I didn’t have much ambition to take it on as a career though, so I grabbed a Communication Arts minor at the last minute (sometime into my fifth year…).

Kennedy as Deiter in Drew Brhel’s “Neibelungen-Lite”

The program eventually evolved into the Specialist In Acting Major (because the professor who took it over during my time liked being “the king of S.I.A.M.), and I re-auditioned for it every semester studying everything from Commedia del’Arte, circus skills, Kabuki and stage combat — they really tried to squeeze a lot of specialties into an undergraduate program. Anything but simple modern American scene study.

I was one of two members from my original class to finish the program.  The other one occasionally shows up Off-Broadway, in Coen Brothers movies and in multiple episodes of “Louis,” that Louis C.K. show.

Kennedy as Che in Michael Moynihan’s “Bang Bang, Gong Gong; The Re-education of Chuck Barris 

What’s did you go to school?

That grade school was St. Columba’s in Columbus, Indiana. I attended from first through fourth grade.

My next grade school was St. Sebastian’s in Milwaukee, in the area now called “Washington Heights.”

That high school was Marquette University High School. (I know what you’re thinking, but I worked in the kitchen to pay tuition.)

That college was the University of Wisconsin — Madison. I worked with rhesus macaques at the Harlow Primate Lab to fund that degree.

Kennedy as Brad Pit in Randy Rehberg’s “A Clean Sweep”

You’ve bounced around a bit.  Where did you grow up?

Born in Columbus, Indiana, which is a lot more like Kentucky than Indiana, although a county or two too north to be “Kentuckiana” proper. It’s the home of shoe genius Chuck Taylor, Ross and Don Barbour (of the Four Freshman, of course) and NASCAR driver Tony Stewart. It’s also the architectural capital of the Midwest.  Seriously, ask an architect.

I moved to Milwaukee between fourth and fifth grade. I was in Madison for five years of higher education, with a brief stint in The Philippines, and have been back in Milwaukee since 1991.

Kennedy as Tony Soprano in Patrick Holland’s “Holy Big Pussy, Batman”

What was your first professional gig?

Live Bait Theatricals (associated with Live Bait Theatre in Chicago) produced a play called “Girls! Girls! Girls! Live On Stage, Totally Rude.” I played a sleazy strip club comedian, and I think we were paid $100 per week for four shows at the Walker’s Point Center for the Arts. It ran for about two-and-a-half months, until one of the cast members broke his leg rehearsing for another show. I had long hair then, and got my first favorable reviews in a major newspaper. That’s about all I remember about it.

Kennedy in Live Bait Theatrical’s production of “Girls! Girls! Girls! Live On Stage, Totally Rude”

Tell us about your upcoming performance in Ireland.

I’ll be brief, because I don’t want to jinx anything.

I’m playing the role of Nathanial Yeshov, a Russian-Chinese from Brooklyn, in Sebastian Barry’s “White Woman Street.” Milwaukee Irish Arts is producing this piece as part of the Acting Irish International Theatre Festival, which is being held at Axis-Ballymun in northern Dublin this year.

I’ve performed in this festival in Chicago, Toronto and Rochester, New York. I did a one-man, hour-long monologue about the  Euro ‘88 Cup and other matters at Irish Fest for this organization.

The play is sort of a Western that takes place in Ohio in 1916. Nathaniel is part of a group of outlaws planning to rob an army train. I have an insane beard. I have an accent. I have a bowie knife. I have a Colt revolver. We ride horses. We get covered in steam during a train robbery.

And they’re flying us out and putting us up in Dublin for a week for this thing.

I’ll stop now before I have to wipe my monitor and keyboard off.

Ask me about it after May 20… It’s gonna be cool!

Kennedy as Nathanial Yeshov in Sebastian Barry’s “White Woman Street” 

Robert has returned since I originally interviewed him and he has this to add:

Looking back at what I wrote in response to this question before we opened that show, it’s hard to believe that the experience could possibly have exceeded my lofty expectations. But it did.

We certainly saved our best performance for the festival, and it’s a good thing we did. We had the Lord Mayor of Dublin Andrew Montague in the audience. He loved it and even tweeted about it. There was spontaneous audience applause during one particularly “complicated” moment in the script, and a standing ovation followed. Pretty much everything you can hope for during a critical performance.

The show was so different from what they usually have at this festival that we were kind of media darlings over there, getting interviewed on RTE Radio 1 and getting our picture on the cover of The Irish Times.

We walked away with a nomination for best production (getting edged out by a well-deserving production of “Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me” from Calgary). And one of our cast won Best Actor in a Supporting Role. The festival participants, the hotel staff and the Ballymum neighborhood treated us like visiting royalty. And the camaraderie of the cast was epic.

The whole experience had a pretty profound effect on me. I took a little side trip to Belfast, and I remember thinking on the train up there that I might actually be achieving the best life for which anyone such as I could really hope. And the funny thing is that this all happened because I participate in this often-thankless hobby. I’m not even doing this for a living and here I am reaping a reward greater than anything money could buy.

It made me question my notions of commercial theatre, the role of performing arts in society, and my whole purpose in “the great hidden scheme.” Yep. Pretty deep thoughts between all of that Guinness and whiskey. Don’t ever ask me about it again; it will bore you to tears.”

Kennedy and the cast of “White Woman Street”

Do you have a favorite venue in Milwaukee?

It’s like a 20-way tie. Every space has its own little quirks, its limitations, and its charms. I fondly recall water bottles backstage at the Walker’s Point Center for the Arts freezing in winter; all of the chaotic cafes and bars I performed in with Inertia Ensemble; the Boulevard Theatre back when the only commercial operation for miles of Kinnikinnic was the Big Beer Bar; the unsurpassable backdrops of the courtyard, lake, and grand hall of the Villa Terrace; and my mansion-away-from-home at the Brumbder. And there is nothing like the exercise in focus that is the Irish Cultural and Heritage Center, with dancers stomping above you and pipers droning away next door. But they do have that great pub…

Oh, I suppose the Steimke, the old Off-Broadway, and the spaces at the Broadway Theatre Center are nice too. There just a little “refined” for my tastes.

And there is one little acoustically perfect spot on the main stage at UWM that is killer! (Anyone who has performed there knows what I’m talking about.)

Kennedy as Father in Tony Woods’ “Flaming Feet”

Why Milwaukee?

As I always say: “It’s a great base of operations.” I can live here affordably — damn-near opulently — and yet still get anywhere in the world without much hassle.

In the summer months, I hardly think there is a more entertaining place to live. And I’ve been a few places. If you have trouble finding something to do, you simply aren’t looking.

This goes the same for the other nine months out of the year. Just a few weeks back, I was trying to figure out how I was going to see and do everything that I wanted to with rehearsals, performances and this upcoming trip. I realized that there was just no way I could squeeze in everything that was being offered to me.

Whenever I hear someone say “there’s nothing to do in Milwaukee,” I laugh. And I cry. Because I know that person is lame.  I read this in some musician’s interview recently, and I couldn’t agree more: “There are two kinds of people who hate Milwaukee. Those who have never been here. And those who have never left.” (Sure it gets cold. Grow a pair, ya’ pussies!)

Kennedy as Brett Michaels in Tom Dillon’s “The All Access Pass to My Heart”

Has there been a favorite gig?

I’ve learned something from every single one, so I’m hesitant to even start listing them. I remember starting to put together a top 10 list for some reason several years ago, and it just kept growing and growing. I’m fickle.

I’ve enjoyed so many Combat experiences because of the people with whom I’ve had a chance to work and the roles in which I would never be cast anywhere else. But you don’t really live with those pieces long enough for them to stick with you in any deep, emotional way. Of course, the sumo wrestling / rodeo clown piece was memorable.

Kennedy as Siomoto in Tony Woods’ “Yipee-Kai-Yay-Yokihama”

Yeah, I’m not even going to start going into the productions I have done with different companies in the area because I simply cannot list how many good times I have had in Milwaukee theatre, and it would be unfair to leave any out. Even though they haven’t all been life-changing experiences, I can honestly say there isn’t a single gig that I regret doing. I even enjoyed the camaraderie aspect of traveling around to hotel conference centers throughout Wisconsin doing murder mysteries for corporate parties. The “theatre” wasn’t so memorable, but the friendships are.

But since this is a Bunny Gumbo interview, I don’t think I’m playing favorites in mentioning “Losers.” And anyone who saw it will know I’m not pandering either. That was just a solid production all around. Who doesn’t like working with their favorite performers and best friends on meaningful content in a collaborative environment with overwhelmingly successful results? Maybe there are people out there who didn‘t think that show was something special, but I haven’t met them yet.

And I guess I’ll always have a soft spot for that one-man production of “In High Germany” I did at Irish Fest a few years back. Only two performances of a monologue, basically about soccer, but my father got a chance to see it and later said it was the first time he realized how really good I was at this stuff. Critics, audiences and directors can say what they want about me from that point forward. I ain’t even hearin’ it.

Kennedy as Kurt in James Fletcher’s “Losers”

Has there ever been a gig that scared you?

They’re all pretty scary if we stop and think about them too long — and maybe this one is just coming to mind because it was so recent — but I had nightmares about that goddamn train scene in The Music Man. It became one of those things I looked forward to doing every night and wanted to do again the moment it was over, but there was just such potential for disaster, me being the only non-musical theatre person in the bunch. My natural rhythms are just not of the Meredith Wilson middle-America type. But it was such a rush as it took off each time and barreled forward, taking everything in its path with it. And when it was on, it was so on. The audience loved it and people still give me credit for being a part of that. While I’m usually pretty humble, I’ll take all the kudos I can get for living through that one. I used to wake up in the middle of the night, sweating, sit bolt upright in bed and scream, “No it ain’t. No it ain’t. But you gotta know the territory!” The horror, The horror…

Kennedy as Lionel in John Van Slyke’s “Sweet Smell of Silence”

Any dream roles out there?

Nah. I don’t read enough dramatic literature to know what is available out there, and I can’t look at any individual performance and say “I’d really like to give that a shot some day.” There are shows I’d like to be in, sure, but I’d probably be totally inappropriate for them. I try to just take what is offered to me and make it my own. I’m not setting out to define any character or put my stamp on anything. And I guess when I become aware of or see someone else tackling a really challenging role I just think “Good for him. Looks like a lot of work.” I think I try to treat whatever role I’m working on as “the one I’ve been preparing for all this time.” I think I’d get depressed if I was always thinking that a better role was coming after this one. That sounds a little counter-intuitive, doesn’t it?

Kennedy as Van in Randy Rehberg’s “Fangs for the Memories”

What’s your day job?

I’m a corporate communications specialist, responsible for internal communications at an area utility company employing approximately 4,700 people. My role is to engage a diverse workforce in the organization’s mission, to improve their efficiency and effectiveness in providing essential energy services to our customers.

I didn’t just pull that off of a job description. That’s actually what I do. I ask questions. I conduct interviews. I research projects and I research technologies. I teach. I do a lot of writing. I examine challenges and try to come up with the simplest solutions to barriers of understanding. And I go to too many meetings.

If all works out, employees understand what their company is doing, how they contribute to it, and they want to do it better. And when a customer flicks a switch and a light goes on, they don’t ever have to think about the small miracle that we just made happen.

The Deacon will be escaping this weekend to join Bunny Gumbo for another round of Combat Theatre.  For more info go to: Bunny Gumbo


A few years ago, Patrick Holland wrote a play called, “The Cowboy” for Combat Theatre.  He had some very specific parameters in writing this play.  The subject of the play was to be a drug experience and the location was to be an accident scene.  Further, he was limited to using only three actresses and one actor.  Oh yeah, and he had a time limit: about ten hours.

It was pretty spectacular.  So spectacular that we included it in The Best of Combat last year.  Seems we aren’t the only ones who thought so.  His play is being included in The Best American Short Plays: 2011-2012.  The book will be released in 2013, but can be preordered on Amazon .

Some of the other playwrights included in this anthology?  Oh, A.R. Gurney, Neil Labutte and some hack named John Guare.  Let’s hear it for Master Holland!


Folks, this makes me more than a little angry and it should make you angry as well.

I throw an increasing number of my submissions away before I lick the envelope or hit “send.”  Why?

Because they require a payment.

It’s bad enough that playwrights have an exceedingly marginal chance of making a living.  Other than the most commercially successful – Ken Ludwig, Alan Ayckbourn – even those who are routinely produced and published must scrabble with other work to stay afloat.

And then I came across this.

It sounds just fine, like a really dedicated bunch of folks, they boast of not charging a submission fee, hooray for opening a brand new theater, but scroll down in the link.  Oh, hell, I’ll just give you the 411.

If your piece is chosen to participate in the festival there is a NON-REFUNDABLE production fee of $300.00, to be paid immediately upon acceptance.  This cost will help defray some of the expenses such as publicity and space rental. In addition, each production will receive two (2) complimentary tickets to the Awards Ceremony/Final Performance.

Please note: All playwrights are responsible for producing their own individual plays. Variations Theatre Group will assist with finding actors, directors, and any technical assistants needed.

This is a festival of 15-minute plays.

You can read the rest of the article here by Deborah Magid


David Cecsarini sent me this letter and I reprint it here with his permission.  I’ve been out of town and missed this whole affair, but folks, this kind of thing makes my blood boil, and given the current climate and recent events, it makes me fearful of which way we’re stumbling in this country.  I’m quite certain that no one who is up in arms about this production has even bothered to read the play.  Please read, speak up and support this venture.  I’ll post more information as I receive it.

Fletcher

Hi Fellow Travelers,

Perhaps you’ve picked up on the scuttlebutt about the radio preacher throwing an airwaves fit over The Reduced Shakespeare’s THE BIBLE: THE COMPLETE WORD OF GOD (abridged).  It was to be staged at SummerStage’s Delafield venue, Lapham Peak State Park, until preacher man riled up his base, they made calls — board members, pols — and the DNR, who controls the venue, caved in to the “pressure,” found a loophole and pulled the permission.

Another venue in Delafield was chosen, but the callers worked their special magic here as well, so, no go.  I know…it sounds like a joke.  But it’s not.

It looks like the show may come downtown to In Tandem’s Tenth Street Theatre, running August 31 – September 16.  That decision will be made very soon.

This link will bring you to a Tom Strini article for more background, and maybe inspiration.

http://thirdcoastdigest.com/2012/08/radio-bullies-push-around-theater-geeks-in-the-burbs/

I think you all know how lightweight the Reduced script is.  I find it absolutely frightening that such public-opinion censorship can occur, so swiftly and inexorably, over a piece that’s lighter-than-air and just for fun.  What might happen when we produce something that actually merits attention because it does indeed take on controversial subject matter?

I believe we all have a stake in this, as producers, as artists and as citizens.

If and when the show goes on — and I think it will — perhaps the best thing we can do is to inform our patrons and give them the opportunity and encouragement to support the production.  Why not deliver a palpable answer to this sort of mass media bullying in box office terms?

As artists in this consumerist society, we must continually prove or speak up for the relevance of our vision and the work it generates.  Taking unified action to stand up for one of our own against censorship and ignorance, seems a pretty relevant cause.

What think you?

Best regards,

David C.

David A. Cecsarini
Producing Artistic Director

NEXT ACT THEATRE


My friend Jason brought this article to my attention.  I must say that I felt much the same when the conference was hosted here in Milwaukee some time back.  The disparity of treatment between the haves and the have nots was very much on display with the expectation that the have nots were there to be seen and not heard.  Read on.

 

Theatre Miscommuncations Group?

POSTED JULY 21, 2012 BY 
NOTHING BUT TROUBLE

Last month, Theatre Communications Group, a national service organization dedicated to professional nonprofit theatre across the nation, held its annual conference in Boston. The selection of Boston for the conference had the theatre scene here viewing itself as having “arrived.” There had been recent leadership changes at both American Repertory Theater and The Huntington TheatreArtsEmerson had opened shop under the leadership of Bob Orchard and quickly established itself as a major presenting institution for international work and is now being joined at Emerson College by the Theater Commons. And, just as important, the “fringe” scene (much of which is represented by the Small Theatre Alliance of Boston), has blossomed in recent years, becoming so essential that SourceStage, the older, more established Boston theatre-service organization, had been coordinating activities with the Small Theatre Alliance and the two organizations were discussing a possible merger.

Because attendance at the TCG conference was steep (the “early bird” rate for independent artists nominated by member organizations was $280, though some attendees or their sponsoring institutions were paying as much as $725 to attend), volunteering several hours to help run the conference seemed like a reasonable way for low-to-moderate income artists to get into an important industry event and to interact with theatre makers from other parts of the country.

This was certainly how Boston’s host committee promoted volunteering for TCG to the Boston theatre community. I have described my own volunteer experience in detail on my blog, where I have thus far posted part 1 andpart 2—a version of part 3 has been written but it is pending a discussion of permission to reproduce certain materials that were shared with me. This post contains some material which was originally slated for part 3.

In summary: volunteers were informed, first in a June 19 email and then at an orientation meeting the following day, just hours before the opening reception, that volunteers had been classified as staff and that:

Read the full article here


Rentmeester in The Triumph of the Still

Tami Rentmeester is one of the funniest actors I know.  She’s got the rare ability to send an audience over the edge with a single look.  She’s also got the guts to extend a pause further than it has a right to go.  It takes a special kind of actor to wait a gag out, let it get to that point where it’s not funny and the audience gets uncomfortable, go past the point where most actors break and give in and thus suffer the joke falling flat on its face.  Tami will wait until it’s funny again.  Then she’ll wait a little longer.  Then she’ll wait a bit longer until it’s hysterical.

As such, she’s a hot commodity at Combat.  Not that anyone has a choice, the actors are cast at random, but your day gets a little better when Tami’s in your play.  “Whether Tami is in a play of mine or not, she usually comes to mind during my writing process” says playwright John Van Slyke.  “She’s so versatile and fearless, Tami typically comes to mind for as at least one of the roles. And when she is picked for one of my plays, I know all will be well. Tami brings comfort with many exciting surprises.”

Rentmeester in Fiddler

She’s also a favorite amongst directors.  Katie Cummings has had the opportunity to work with her several times.  “Some of my favorite moments of Tami in Combat are her portrayal of  the madam in the whorehouse that Maclay was interviewing for PBS, playing Sesame Street’s Ernie in Patrick Hollands, “Scalp Those Muppets” and Floyd the Barber in Tony Woods “Triumph of the Still.”  Katie adds, “She’s genuine, she’s the real deal, she has the ability to transform into any character she chooses and she works hard.  Bottom line, she is beautiful inside and out and I can’t imagine doing a Combat without her.”

So who doesn’t like working with Tami?  Just one person: John Maclay.  “I don’t like being in scenes with Tami because she is really quite a bit funnier than I am and I don’t like getting shown up at Combat Theatre.  Each Combat morning I sit and pray that she will be cast across Bo Johnson or Doug Jarecki as she is also funnier than them.  And I have no problem with them getting shown up.”

So enough of the love, let’s have Tami speak for herself.

What first got you involved in theatre?

My folks used to take my brother & me to see the high school musicals when we were little, which is an inexpensive way to introduce your kid to the arts.  I saw Brigadoon when I was only about 4 years old and I was BIT.  HARD.  Plus, we had a ton of cast albums that I listened to all the time.  When I was 12 or 13, a friend’s mom was directing a children’s play for the local community group, and I was cast.  I never really stopped after that.  Weirdly, during high school, I was too chicken to audition for the school shows, but I was continuously doing community theater on the side.

Where did you grow up?

Greendale, Wisconsin.  Or, “The Bubble” as all residents between the ages of 13 and 19 refer to it.

Where did you go to school?
Greendale High School.  No college.  Well, a little bit of UW-Oshkosh for seasoning.  No theater/drama/acting school.  I got all that training in the trenches.

What was your first professional gig?

I was in the chorus of “Amahl and the Night Visitors” for Milwaukee Opera Company.  Which has since changed names a whole bunch of times and may not even exist anymore.  I think I made around $40 or $45.  Woot!  I did a few more shows for MOC, then some Music Under the Stars.  It was a while before I made much more than gas money.  But hey – at the time, $45 bucks filled my Horizon more than 3 times.

Why Milwaukee?

It’s just home.  I’ve never strayed, apart from a brief period travelling for regional stuff.  When I decided  a) It was time to stay in one place.  b) That place will not be New York; it just made sense to stay here.  I like it here.

The first time I met you was on the docks outside of Skylight (I was doing something in the other theatre and we were having a smokey treat).  What show were you doing then?

Ooooh, what was I doing?  I think it had to be A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.  Mr. Bo Johnson was in that show, and I believe he is the one who introduced us.  I beat him up every night in Funny Thing.  And my wig was made of yak hair.  Awesome.

Michelle Smith, Bo Johnson and Tami Rentmeester in Forum

You’ve got a great singing voice, were you trained?

Yes, I was trained.  I started out lucky – just accidently sang correctly when belting out Loverboy’s “Get Lucky” album in the living room after school.  But I knew that in order to advance in musical theater I needed real training.  I studied classical technique privately with Patricia Nelson for several years.  I even did the regional Met Auditions.  Holy carp, that was terrifying.  But rewarding.  But seriously terrifying.

Rentmeester as the Fairy Queen in Skylight’s Iolanthe

You’re a great comedian, do you prefer comedy to drama?

I do.  I enjoy drama as well, but comedy’s just more fun.  (Duh)  Plus, I think I’m better at comedy.  I think I’m more believable in funny situations than dramatic ones.  (Or so I assume.  I know people who think I’m hilarious when I’m angry.  I hate them.)

What was your favorite gig?

Am I a brown-noser if I say Combat?  ‘Cause I love that.

Playing Fruma Sarah in Fiddler at the Skylight fulfilled a childhood dream.  I loved doing Honk! at Music Theatre of Wichita, being Ruth in Pirates of Penzance and Sr. Mary Hubert in Nunsense.  ONE real favorite?  Impossible.

Rentmeester in Honk

What was your scariest gig?

See above re: Met Audition.  Not really a gig though.  This:  Michael Wright cast me in “A My Name is Alice,” and he gave me a pretty sizeable monologue.  I was perfectly comfortable standing alone in the middle of the stage to sing.  But to TALK?  It was the first time I was expected to actually TALK that much.  Scared the crap out of me. (thank you for kicking my butt, Michael)

Is there a dream role out there?

I consider myself mostly retired now, so I doubt I’ll ever do it, but there was I time I would have hurt someone for the chance to play Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd.

What’s your day job?

I’m a secretary.  I get in trouble when I use that word, but I prefer it.

I’m officially Executive Administrative Assistant in Communications & PR and Assistant Vice President at Baird, a financial services company.  I really love it.

Besides Sheepshead, what else do you enjoy?

I read like it’s a sickness.  I’m such a book nerd that I set myself ridiculous reading challenges with spreadsheets to track & calculate how I’m doing.  It’s embarrassing.  Don’t tell anyone that.

Tami playing Sheepshead with the boys

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