Unscripted - A Blog for Actors - Backstage

How To Cure ADD (Audition Depression Disorder)

   Auditioning is hard.  I find the process rather cruel - the work and energy it demands requires that you care about going in and giving it your all, but in order to maintain some semblance of sanity, you have to let it all go and decide not to care about what just happened or where it might lead. One of my acting teacher always used to say that you just have to go "make an omelet."  Carry on with your life.  Eat your protein, throw in some veggies and you'll be fine.  

I agree with the concept but I am not a big fan of eggs, so....

...here are some other ideas for curing the audition blues (other than drowning yourself in a bathtub of gin or whirling yourself into delirious denial).

1. Read something silly like a romance novel or a trashy magazine.  Your brain will begin to melt, thereby disabling your ability to over-analyze everything.

2. Ride the Staten Island Ferry.  It's free.  You get to see the Statue of Liberty.  Go when the sun is setting and stand on the deck so your hair whips in the wind and makes you feel like a movie star.  

3. Sit in the Temple of Dendur at the Met.  Just do it.

4. Listen to a favorite song.  Really loud.  And then listen to it again.

5. Do some dance moves on the subway platform.  I personally like to practice my plies and always really wish I knew how to tap dance.

6.  Mail yourself a card.  (yes I KNOW it sounds super lame. At least maybe the idea of it will make you laugh). Pick out a really ridiculous one from CVS or something (are there any that aren't ridiculous?)  Write whatever you want to write and then put it in the mail.  Maybe you'll want to smile when you find it in your mailbox.  Maybe you'll want to burn it.  Both are therapeutic.

7. Read Shakespeare.

8.  Buy some water balloons.  Go to Central Park.  Find a Water Fountain.  'Nuff said.

10.  Go see a show.  Or watch a movie.  Seeing great performances always reminds me why I go on those silly auditions in the first place. 

What do you do?

Happy Social Media Day

 Yes. Today, June 30th, is officially social media day.  In celebration of "media" becoming "social", there are all sorts of events and meetups happening to discuss how far social media has come in the past few years and where it might be headed in the future.  I find it sort of ironic that on celebration of all the amazing things we are able to do on the Web people are actually getting up from their computers and going to meet one another face to face.  

I was thinking about theatre and how it relies on person to person interaction.  It is possible to write and record a piece of music with someone over the Internet, and movies can be done all through animation.  But besides the random waves of audition videos (i.e. Glee), theatre doesn't really exist in the online world.  Sure, there are some great sketch comedy videos and webisodes or whatever you want to call them, but the process is still person to person rather than person to computer.  Could theatre exist online?  Will there ever be an online platform for playing a scene with someone who is in an entirely different space and time zone?

I don't know.  Maybe.  For now, I'm happy just blogging about acting and plays and all things related.  So Happy Social Media Day.  Go be social with your media (isn't that what theatre is?)

--Sarah Wharton

I was going to and then...

 I was going to write a post about how I am tired.  Tired, but without any real reason.  I was going to write a post about struggling to find the energy just to get through the "have to's" (i.e. laundry), never mind the "should's" (going to auditions, writing) and the "want to's" (seeing theatre, reading plays.)  

I was going to write about how I am frustrated with myself for not having the stamina or the motivation to get out there and start making my life happen, even though I have no more or greater obstacles to overcome than the next person… in reality, I probably have fewer.  I am lucky.  I have my own room in New York City.  I have a diploma from my dream school.  While I'm not about to go throwing money into the streets, I do not have to worry about being able to pay for my groceries or metro card.  I have an awesome family.  And wonderful friends.  And yet I feel stuck. I was going to write a post about how this makes me really mad at myself.

Better Without the Hoo-hah

Over the weekend I saw two very different but very well accomplished shows.  One was a reading at The Lark (the only tech involved was the projection of English supra-titles for the scenes played in Mandarin) and the other was a production of The Knight of the Burning Pestle at the Blackfriars Theatre in Virginia.

Both venues are known for being "bare bones" in the way they stage their productions. The Lark promotes involving audience members in the rehearsal process while Blackfriars puts on shows in the style of Elizabethan theatre. While these concepts are very different, it means that the focus of any production you might see at either place ultimately ends up being more about the substance of the play (as written by the playwright) and the ability of the actors to uphold that with little more than their bodies and voices.

I had not been to a reading in sometime and was blown away by both the quality of the acting and how clear the story was to me. I'm sure that part of it had to do with the talent of both the playwright and the actors, however, I also think that I was so struck by the "show" because there was nothing to distract from it. Despite the presence of scripts on stage and the absence of any set pieces (save a few chairs and music stands) I was more engaged with this particular piece of theatre than I have been with some of the more "famous" shows I have seen recently. Funnily enough, even though there were no efforts made to mask the fact that these were actors reading a play, I often found myself forgetting that I was watching something that was entirely make-believe.

My experience at Blackfriars Playhouse was very similar. While the production was more fully staged than the the reading at the Lark, there was absolutely no "tech" element, nor any set to speak of.  The actors managed to do it all with their bodies.  (The play, by the way, is ridiculous. Its like the play within a play in Midsummer took steroids.  And then dropped acid.) Of course, I still think the spectacle that some productions manage to pull off is rather fabulous.  But it was joyous to me to just get back to what I think theatre is really all about: telling a good story.

-- Sarah Wharton

And then this man on the street had to parallel park my van...

 After being impassioned last week about saving the American Theatre (or something) I was catapulted into the artistically unfriendly space known as the banality of everyday life.  Sometimes what my life requires gets in the way of what my heart desires.

I had to move.  There was nothing particularly interesting about this move (or scandalous or drastic or life threatening) so the story teller in me was left rather unsatisfied by the experience.  The most exciting part of the event was when my rather pathetic attempt to parallel park the UHaul resulted in whistles and shouts from a group of men on the corer of 129th and Lenox.  Already exasperated by my own NYC pedestrian auto-ineptitude, I responded by throwing my hands up in the air and then handing one of them the keys.  Luckily this story ends with a perfectly parked truck rather than a missing van. 

Reasons to be Famous (Part Two)

continued from yesterday's part one...

I am guilty of not seeing enough theatre.  I am too "busy" or too "poor" or have "other" things to do.  The truth is that I am lazy.  Going to see a piece of theater is work.  That's what acting school will do to you.  My brain is always in essay mode, questioning everything I see and trying to come up with some glimmer of an answer.  But I always end up learning something, and I am always glad I went... no matter what.    

Most of the theater I see is stuff my friends are in or stuff that is "famous" somehow - celebrity actors or directors, it's on Broadway, or the New York Times gave it a good review.  Very rarely do I go and see something just because "it sounds interesting" or even because "I love that play."  As I have said before, Hamlet is one of my favorite works.  There are probably several productions happening somewhere in New York right now.  But do I have tickets to go see any of them?  Nope.  

This makes me part of the problem.  This problem with celebrity.  And lack thereof.  And the problem with quality.  And lack thereof.  The problem of "dying theater."  

As a sit through the run of Reasons To Be Pretty, I smile, laugh, raise my eyebrows, exhale audibly... and wish that I could wave a magic wand and put all the actors on a beautiful stage in front of a huge, adoring audience.  But that's not the way the world works.  Fortunately, their work is valid and valuable no matter what.  In fact, I would make the argument that if no one were to go see this production, the actors would not suffer.  Any disappointment or ego blow would probably only make them work harder.  But Theatre suffers.  And therefore we (the absent audience, the hopeful artists) suffer.

Reasons to be Famous (Part One)

 As I walk into 721 Broadway (yes - that Tisch building), I am careful to hold my fingers over the graduation date on the purple ID card that I flash to the security guard at the front desk.  Several of my friends have already had their NYU student IDs confiscated while trying to enter school buildings after having "commenced" (or "terminated", it would seem). So far I have been lucky and have continued to use my ID for discounted theater tickets, my yoga membership, museum passes and 10% off at a couple of delis around campus... but it feels like the university has tried its best to cut us all out despite having bound and gagged us with the mountains of student loans we now have to start paying back.  Oh well.  We can't say we weren't warned.

But back to the point - I am at Tisch to sit in on a rehearsal.  After breezing past the guard (I've learned that you can go anywhere if you look like you know exactly where you're going), I trot up the stairs to the acting studios and head towards the sound of familiar voices.  I walk into studio one and see a collection of familiar faces.  Classmates, friends, fellow graduates and colleagues - Artists (with a capital "A") in the making. They are gathered in the middle of the room, trying on costumes and hauling props out of duffle bags and backpacks.  There is stuff everywhere.

"Look at all this stuff!" exclaims the director, also a fellow classmate. "This all came on our backs!"

That's for sure.  This is true New York Theater.  No budget.  No brand name.  No sponsors or celebrity endorsements.  Just mountains of talent and energy.  

This adventure all started back in December when the reality of graduation began to weigh more seriously on everyone's mind.  In addition to feeling apprehensive about starting to work in the real world and wanting to make sure they made every effort to pursue theatre in every way they knew how, the golden opportunity of time and space was too precious to be ignored.  So off they went, here they go, fast approaching opening night on Thursday this week.  

Blogging-Without-Makeup Day

 Today is Blogging-Without-Makeup Day.  So here I am, blogging with no make-up on.  Not that my make-up is something I usually think about when I am blogging since you can't see me, but as an actor (and a woman) it is definitely something that has become a part of my daily life.

I am not someone who generally wears a lot of make-up, nor does it feel like the end of the world when someone sees me without it.  What is more disturbing to me is what "make-up" has come to mean and the extremes is has been stretched to for so many women.  It's no longer just about lipstick, mascara and some concealer... our obsession with appearance (and our ability to change it) has led to plastic surgery addictions, models being photoshopped into spaghetti like strands of arms and legs and a general paranoia about the way we look.

Slow Food

 It's been months since I attended my last class of college, and my diploma has already been buried underneath more pressing and important documents like electric bills, sides for tomorrow's audition, rent checks and the latest Vanity Fair magazine.  It wasn't until Tuesday, however, that I finally donned my cap and gown and officially "commenced" (whatever that means.)

When you think about it, graduation ceremonies are extremely bizarre events.  Aside from everyone looking rather ridiculous, (a phenomenon that lives on forever in the thousands of photographs taken by weepy family members and exuberant classmates) there are all sorts of bizarre little traditions incorporated into the whole ordeal... the "hooding" of the PhD candidates?  Bagpipes?  Pomp and Circumstance?  The whole thing seems a bit medieval.  

To Be, Or Not To Be (but is that really the question?)

 I can't speak for Hamlet, but I find the "being" part of life fairly simple.  I can be happy or sad or angry or tired or excited or nervous for any number of reasons... the question is, what do I do about it?

For some reason when I think about "being", I get this image of myself sprawled on the couch in my pajamas, totally zoned out watching television.  Preferably some horrendous reality TV show.  To me, this is living at the absolute minimum effort - borderline catatonic and void of any desire or motivation.  Yet because I am breathing, taking up space and consuming energy, I am still being.  but I'm not doing anything.  So what the schwhat does it mean?

The reason I have been thinking about the difference between "being" and "doing" is (mostly) because of a brief conversation I had with an agent recently.  Her professional opinion of where I am currently in my acting career (and I agree with her) is that I have a lot of work to do.  She told me that I was not ready for an agency yet because I haven't done anything. 

She's right.  Mostly.  I have yet to work professionally as an actor.  It is highly unlikely that an agent would sign me without having seen me work.  That's fair.  But it's not that I haven't been doing anything.  I just haven't done anything that counts.  Yet.

Humble Warrior

 While I can't call myself a yogi, yoga has definitely become more than just exercise for me.  I started doing yoga because of the wonderful things it can do for scoliosis (at some point in my life my spine decided to grow sideways instead of up - I guess I've always been slightly twisted).  In addition to helping me stand a little straighter, I also found that all of the sudden I had a lot more vocal power and range at my disposal (breathing is magic) and felt more "present" in my body.  Funnily enough, I also often feel like I'm in an acting class (only slightly more sweaty).  

Something my yoga teacher said in class the other day:  "Every moment has something new to discover within it, if you only let yourself be curious enough to find it."  Suddenly everything becomes a lot more interesting if you are looking for what's new rather than trying to repeat what you did before, or merely sustaining.  I know the same is true for acting.

Another thought: "Breathe so that the people around you can hear you.  Support them with your breath."  I don't have any plans to suddenly become Darth Vader on stage but there is something to say for the fact that once I increased my awareness and directed my focus towards what was going on around me, whatever I was doing suddenly became less of a struggle.  Sometimes it's easy for acting to become very internal and self-centered, but it makes everything far less effective (and less fun).  

Confidence...?

 Confidence.  Not a word that should have a question mark after it.  If anything it should be Confidence!  or Confidence or CONFIDENCE.  A statement, not a question.

It's a problem, then, that I don't know what it is.  I know when I have it, and definitely know when I don't, but I haven't quite figured out how to just have it on hand whenever I need it.  Whenever my confidence decides to make an appearance, it makes a huge difference.  People treat me differently.  I walk differently.  My voice changes.  I laugh from my gut instead of through my nose.  I am more optimistic.  And spontaneous.  And brave. 

When it's not there, however, I shrink.  People bump into me on the street.  The lady at the Starbucks calls me "sweetie" like I'm five years old.  My boss pats me on the head (infuriating!)

'Till My Puzzler is Sore

 Wow.  Online introductions are stranger than I imagined.  I feel like I should be extending out my hand to you, smiling and saying, "Hello! my name is Sarah - nice to meet you!"  But I can't do that.  I can't even see you.  And I don't really feel it appropriate to say "Welcome" or anything like either. After all, it's me that's new here, not you.  

But here I am, and, I suppose, there you are too.  Somewhere.  So hi there.  My name is Sarah Wharton.  As you may have already guessed, I am an actor (or that's part of who I am anyway.)  

The question of who I am has come up a lot recently.  Having graduated from the NYU acting program in December, I am in that silly place of being full of energy and ideas and hope and fear and possibility but having absolutely no clue what to do with all of it.  

Someone asked me today to describe where I am in my life at the moment.  As someone who tends to think in pictures rather than complete sentences (this can sometimes be a problem) I immediately embarked on using the metaphor of the broken up jigsaw puzzle to try and explain how I felt about my current state of life.  "It's like I can identify all these different pieces - I've found the corners and turned most of them right side up so now I am at that point of trying to figure out which ones fit together."