TO ACTORS: A VALENTINE'S DAY LOVE LETTER

When people ask me about my theatre making activities, I usually lead with “I’m a director.” Once a year, though, I act in a play. I enjoy the narrowed focus of digging into a character and not having to be in charge of the whole production. Mostly, though, it’s about being a guinea pig, testing out new acting techniques or tools on myself before I ask others to do the same. And it never hurts to spend some time remembering what it feels like to have to take direction from someone else. In short, these occasional acting forays make me a better director, a desire which stems from how much I love working with and developing great actors - most of whom possess talent that far surpasses my own.

There’s no false humility there; I regularly marvel at the talent that I encounter in rehearsal rooms. This past Sunday evening, I had the good fortune to observe Geoff Short and Chennelle Bryant-Harris tackle a first night of blocking with lots of zeal, intelligence, and skill. They had just been part of 8 process rehearsals over 6 weeks, during which they were meeting each other for the first time, having tons of new tools and terms thrown at them, being asked to jump into complex and quickly vulnerable conversations about the socio-political issues of our play (Amerikin), and being called to a level of work and engagement that rivals a graduate level acting class. On the heels of all that, I was like, “Great, get up and do your first scene.”

I was amazed by the shorthand that had already developed between us; I offered tiny bits of guidance between runs and these two artists made drastic adjustments and bold choices that rendered each iteration of the scene a new delight and surprise. I loved hearing the insights that arose while on their feet. Geoff made wonderful observations about the ever-shifting parent-child dynamic between these two individuals and Chennelle began to “crack the nut” of some questions about her character’s motivation that were proving difficult to answer at table. It was fun to watch the comfort and ease that was already developing between them - the rapport between their characters, the generosity they extended to one another as actors, and the sense of “I got you” that was already suffusing their joint efforts onstage. I came away invigorated by their beautiful and truthful storytelling and then was buoyed by this thought: “And we still have five weeks to work on this!”

Beyond the opportunity to be privy to great art being created right in front of my eyes, I’m also increasingly grateful to good actors for how they make me a better director. The older I get and the more I’m around folks who are willing to bring all of their best selves into service of the play - their thinking, feeling, and willing centers - the better I understand what my function is (and isn’t) as a director. Sure, I can come in with a one-page conceptual statement, a realistic and productive rehearsal schedule, an awesome team of designers, and even clear blocking and staging instructions. None of these are bad things, but the greatest gift I can give a good actor is my attention and my trust. If I’m watching and listening to them with undivided attention, I can myself respond “in the moment” - creatively and spontaneously. What does this look like? It manifests as a lighter hand with pre-determined instructions and specific directives,  in favor of carefully and patiently building a developmental and playful environment where actors have time, space, freedom, and courage to make courageous choices, try new tools that seem off-the-wall, and ultimately discover the answers for themselves. If I can help shape the right questions, the answers they discover will always be richer than the ones I would supply from my directorial throne on high. I’m learning to listen, bring the right toys to the sandbox, and then trust the actors to play their way to brilliance. I love watching their resulting exhilaration and, quite honestly, it’s more satisfying for me as well.

So this is my valentine to the actors whom I’ve been lucky enough to encounter and to those I’ve not yet met. Thanks for the artistry, beauty, joy, and truth you bring to a world that doesn’t always understand what compels you to do the work you do. Your gifts are a gift to all of us.

- Craig Joseph, Artistic Director

 

Craig Joseph