PERSONAL PROCESS w/ Natalie Sander Kern
Welcome to a new series within our blog we’re going to call Personal Process where we touch base with company members, designers, actors, guests, and more who can offer insight into how they do all the things they do - a personal snapshot of philosophy and practice. To begin, meet (again) Natalie Sanders Kern, who is two years a company member of SOTP. You may know Natalie from her work in SOTP’s Molly Sweeney, The Women of Lockerbie, or caught her direction in Grand Concourse. This is of course on top of a litany of things she does beyond the company. Here’s what Natalie had to share:
Finding balance is a moving target. Anyone who says they’ve “figured it out” probably isn’t telling you the full story. The reality is, most days I’m doing the best I can (at least I hope so), adjusting constantly, and giving myself permission to recognize when I haven't given my best, pick myself up, and try again. I read somewhere about the rule of Thirds. If you are working towards something you deeply care about, then you can expect a third of the time you will feel a wonderful joy and passion for that work, a third of the time will feel "meh", and third of the time you may feel like you don't want to work on it at all or it's a slog to make yourself continue going forward. For me, I find a lot of truth in seeing art-making through that lens.
I try to start with accepting that not everything gets done at once. I can be a present parent, a committed artist, a passionate educator, a reliable friend,—but usually not all at the same time, not every single day. And that’s okay. I try to zoom out and look at my life in weeks or seasons instead of hours. Some weeks are full of work and late-nights of focusing on trying to do my job well, others are about family dinners and attempting to be grounded and available for my kids and my husband, and others are about making art that I care about with people that I admire and respect. I also read somewhere that your children will not grow up to value and treat themselves the way you treat them - they will value and treat themselves the way you treat yourself. So finding time in my life for the artmaking that makes me feel like me, is my way of showing my children that it's important to know yourself and make time for the things that nurture that person.
When it comes to the actual art-making—I'm honestly not sure what my process is since it seems to change based on the needs and circumstances of the project. I find driving to be one of my favorite places to think, letting thoughts flow in and out without controlling them. When I'm working on a project, that driving time to rehearsal feels very valuable. And even though the drive home is tough, because I'm exhausted and thinking about how early I may need to start the next day - it's still time that feels important and necessary for processing. It's also important for me to set boundaries for myself in rehearsal, focusing on being present, fully listening and committing to the time I have carved out for being in that rehearsal room - working to make sure I'm generous to all the others who are there giving of their time and artistry as well.
When I read a script, the first thing I gravitate toward is relationships. What do the relationships in the story make me feel? What stirs in my gut? Which character feels like they're tugging at me? Which struggle in the plot feels like an itch that needs to be scratched? Is there anything in that script that scares me or feels like something that leaves me thinking, "how are we going to make that happen?" Those questions are usually my favorite places to explore.
The truth is, juggling everything is exhausting - and I'm sure there are many times when I am not balancing it as effectively as I'd like to think. But I don’t expect it to be easy. I just expect it to be worth it. And it is. The days when the rehearsals are flowing, and the story begins to really bloom, and I can see how the piece that I'm building with our ensemble is going to truly touch the other people in my life — those are the moments that fill me back up.
So my advice? Show up. Work on knowing yourself, on loving yourself. Give yourself space to be human. Don’t wait until life is calm to make your art—it never will be. Make it anyway. You're worth it.
