12th March 2009, 13.55

The date and time of my audition for RSAMD.

I was never any good at keeping secrets about myself, even though in this case it might be more politic to keep shtum and so avoid the embarrassment afterwards of having to tell everyone I didn't get in. But that's me.

It'll be a very important day; not just because a part of me still craves endorsement and validation (I fervently pray I was more secure and confident about what I do), but because I have for all my adult life harboured ambitions of receiving formal practical training. My untutored talents, such as they are, deserve critical attention and proper training. Looking to the Academy for these things- especially at my age and CV- is a bit pathetic, a measure of my neediness perhaps, but that's what crave. I can't deny it. My confidence has always been low (It's been VERY low of late.) I feel neglected-stuck and left behind somehow. I want to prove to myself and the rest of the world that I and my gfts are worthy of attention.

I really need to get my head sorted, and stop beating myself up for all my failings- both real and imagined.

So why Drama School...?

Bernada continues to go well. We finished blocking Act I this afternoon, and we have already made some deep inroads into investigation of character, relationships, themes and motivation, etc. It’s fun and exciting. The cast feel galvanised and challenged, and so do I. :-)

I attended the Bothy yesterday which was being led by guest Mark Westbrook an Glasgow-based acting coach. I had an interesting and stimulating chat with him in the bar afterward about Practical Aesthetics, the acting technique developed by David Mamet and William H. Macy. I liked him and have signed up for an hour’s audition coaching with him on Tuesday afternoon. He seemed to have heard all about my work from a number of sources, although I was too afraid to ask who from and what they'd said! While speaking to him Mark brought up a question I've already been asked a number of times by friends, actors and directors. I sense it would please #Mark to know he provioked me to formulate a full respi#onse to the question.
What follows is an attempt to articulate an answer to that dreaded question, one that is more than likely to come up at the RSAMD interview itself:
i.e.
“Why drama school?” – the subtext probably being “Why bother, when you already have so much experience?”

Well here goes...


I have four headings.

• Spiritual
• Career
• Education

and

• Substantiation
  
  1. Spiritual. This is my main reason for doing the course. I am steeling myself to admit as much in the audition interview because it goes to the heart of who I am and who I want to be. Over the last few years I have grown increasingly drawn to the spiritual dynamic inherent in the actor’s process, and the remarkable parallels that appear to exist between mysticism and the actor’s process. For instance Michael Chekhov’s revolutionary inspiring concept of the Higher Ego, borrowed wholesale from Rudolf Steiner’s anthroposophist ideas, but applied to the question of what best facilitates the actor’s transformation during the characterisation process has been a real ‘eye-opener’ for me*. By studying the MA at the Academy I gain the breathing space and freedom to experiment and explore further the ways and means in which I can communicate and embody the ineffable through practical and practicable techniques. And I can explore the processes involved in of making the invisible forces of love into manifest and tangible manifestations without the imperative of entertaining others, or earning a living through my acting. I am not interested in religious agit-prop, or message-driven theatre. At the risk of sounding self-involved this is about the process, and it is about me. And it is about serving my understanding of what God’s purpose is for me. Then turning that into empowering myself as an artist. My new-found Quakerism incites me to live my life ‘adventurously’. I am auditioning for this course because it is a risky thing to do, and I know that if I am accepted it is going to stretch me. I want to know and discover more and I no longer believe I can continue to do this as well as might in the context of rehearsing productions. I have been doing that for thirty years and now I have reached an impasse because I am not being taught what I need to know through doing. I need space to think, to research and experiment- putting that at the top of my agenda, rather than striving for results that I don’t believe in or have little understanding of. And I am going to have fun devoting myself entirely to growing as an actor. It may be counter-intuitive, even foolhardy (the financial implications alone tell me this). But where common sense says “No”, my heart and my soul say “Yes”. It’s been an ambition of mine since I was teenager to go to drama school, and I would regret it deeply if I didn’t manage to achieve that before I’m 50. I risk much talking about God and spirituality in the interview, but not to do so would be inauthentic and fall far short of my main reason for doing this course. This is a commitment to achieving a complete coherence with what I believe and say, and what I do in my life. This is about becoming accountable.
  
  Ultimately I have an obligation to honour the talent God blessed me with, This necessarily involves developing my gifts to their optimum potential. I deserve to study the craft at a centre of excellence.
  
  
  Career. The opportunity to gain a recognised and accredited qualification from the Academy and be seen by agents, directors, casting people and producers is an obvious draw for me. I hope to return to professional acting, but having devoted myself to teaching, directing and performing in amateur theatre and profit-share for most of the last decade I feel that the course would give me the platform to re-launch myself back onto the market, and be taken seriously. I am tired of the barely concealed sneers that greet my confession that I am untrained. There are plenty of trained actors out there who feel my lack of training gives them license to patronise me and sneer, when in fact I have more talent in my little finger than they ever will.
  
  Education. To become the best artist and practitioner I can be. Some may question whether the Academy is the best place to learn this, and if I am honest I would prefer to get Chekhov training in America. But the chance to experience first-hand some of the techniques of acting that I have little or no knowledge of, except in an academic context, i.e. from books is a huge attraction for me. The art of acting has fascinated me for well over 30 years. I have worked with many really shit directors, but very few shit-hot ones. Most of them are insipid and unimaginative. But even when they do claim to have a vision, not one of them has the least obligation to teach me anything, nor to facilitate my process or nourish my technique. They are focused on achieving results and show little interest in how those results are achieved. I am repeatedly cast on the basis that I already know what I am doing, and then I am usually left to find my own way. All my knowledge and skills have been drawn from my voracious reading of acting books and maybe the odd workshop. I now want hands on specific help identifying and then removing my habits and weaknesses as an actor.
  
  Substantiation that I am not deluding myself like some crazy X Factor contestant. I want to know I am a talented actor. Passing the audition would verify that. But more than this I long to prove to myself, the industry and the world that I am not just another dilettante- a part-timer, another ego-driven ‘am-dram’ dabbler, but a committed artist who is more than willing to sacrifice a year of his life to hone his craft. I am already a very good actor. I want to be a substantially better one.
  
  It might well be said I could obtain these things without forking out £9000 on course fees, or by delaying my career re-launch by a year. I could just spend the money on new 10 by 8s, a decent DVD show reel and some good clothes. But I need to be ready inside before I start adding the finishing, outer touches to what I hope to become. As Meister Eckhart said, “The outer work will never be puny if the inward work is great.” It will be puny if I shirk that work. Yes it’s expensive, but I can’t see me getting what this course is offering me anywhere else at a cheaper price. What I will get out of it is the priceless gift of time usefully dedicated to the refinement of my body, mind, soul and spirit in preparation for service to my art. (Wanky as that sounds)
  I need to find a way of saying all this succinctly in less than 90secs, and hopefully avoid leaving the panel with the impression I am just a sad, confused, old nutter.

Clearly I still have some more thinking to do. But there is time. I still haven't been given an audition date.

* Pun intended!

Audition Speech 2

Stomil in Tango with Paul Gruber and Linda Mimnagh (2008)

Ernest in Time and the Conways with Graham Vernall and ?? (Arches,1999)

Unfortunately I am unable to upload the 'Teddy' video onto my blog as the file is too large, :-)

which is disappointing. So here are some more pictures from the old ham's scrapbook.

However, once I can up the pace of my delivery a bit, and trim the speech down to the length it should be- i.e. under 2 and a half minutes- then I will try filming it again!

Today's Actors' Bothy didn't happen as we got caught up in a meet 'n' greet thing with the Write Camera Action/ Screen Academy people in the CCA bar- which at least allowed me the opportunity to network with some up and coming producers and directors. Hopefully it may lead to some things, who knows. At least I got to see some old friends- John and Karl and Francois-whom I see little of these days. It also meant I managed to get away earlier than usual to spend some quality time with my beloved wifelet on Valentine's Day.

I have been contacted by a young director who has asked if I am available to do a short film on Tuesday, playing a businessman/ mountaineer/ dreamer in a coffee shop. I said yes (School's on half-term right now!), but haven't heard back from him yet . If I do it then it'll be straight from the Merchant City where it is to be filmed during the day, onto Giffnock where I am due to begin rehearsals for The House of Bernarda Alba in the evening. I also heard this week I have been accepted to do a workshop at the RSAMD with celebrated voice teacher Nadine George in April on Ancient Greek Text. All this, and a drama school audition pending too...

Life is starting to pick up again...

:-)

"What have you done? What have you done? You tit."

Max in The Homecoming (with Ronnie McCann) 2005

"What have you done? What have you done, you tit."

Having to do battle with computer gremlins yesterday, which had me crawling around the back of my computer, cursing the dust and the faulty connections and spaghetti of wires- I was getting more and more fractious and enraged. So much so I was not really considering the obvious solution of a System Restore, and instead getting more and more stubbornly committed to the idea of trying to repair stupid mistakes compounded by my own emotional response to the unrelenting logic of an inorganic, insentient machine.

Jerome in Henceforward (with Mairi Gillespie as an android housekeeper!) 1994

I suppose this irritation wasn't helped by the mounting frustration that I am having to wait in so many areas of my life. I have always hated waiting. In the past 6months I have become increasingly aware what a deeply impatient man I am. If anything this irascibility and intolerance appears to be getting even worse, not better, since I became more conscious of it! The Bible says love is kind, love is patient. I feel so unkind and impatient. I get sarcastic, truculent, even vicious whenever my patience is tested. I am even like this when it comes to looking for ways in which I might express love in action as an extension of my spiritual life! I want to arrive now! This absurd, paradoxical dilemma when seen from the perspective of my Overself, my Higher Ego is more than faintly risible. It is vital; for me to learn how to forgive myself and be more ready to laugh at the ridiculousness of this. But I am so bloody impatient in virtually every aspect of my life I frequently lose my sense of humour. A pupil in my S3 class was behaving like a eejit last week and I was incensed because he was acting up because he was bored, or didn’t understand how he was letting himself and his group down. He was laughing in my face and I ended up having to turn around and walk away in order to stop myself completely losing it. I heard him say, “You need to develop a sense of humour, man”. I thought I was going to explode!

Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings!

Austin in True West (with Robert Patterson and Sheena Penson) 1993

I am exasperated by so many things in life- by wilful ignorance, sluggishness, queues, coughing, irresponsible behaviour, being ignored, being noticed, violence, sloth, repetition, rudeness, not being listened to, being taken for granted, arrogance, immaturity, pretentiousness, competitiveness, the banal, the clichéd and the trite, the sentimental and the unnecessarily complicated, youthful vanity, stubborn age, selfishness, noise, quiet, selfishness, blind spots, the slow pace of growth, the Sisyphean nature of self-discovery… Oh so many, many things. But with the past couple of years’ meditation and self-analysis I have been afforded some long overdue insights into aspects of my nature of which I might be mortally ashamed, if it were not for God’s endless patience. In the past I could easily have blown this impatience thing out of all proportion and fully identify with these failings if I wasn’t equally aware of His forgiveness. What I'm saying is, I know now that my impatience is not the whole Me. It may pollute the shallows of my soul ocean, but the depths are mercifully uncontaminated. The Source and my Higher Self offer me with a wise perspective on my ego, its fears and failures, and also give me hope that in shining a light on these reptiles they will begin to shrivel and die. I still have to take that assurance that they will though, that they are shrivelling and dying, I mean, because at the moment, if anything, I appear more impatient, even more tetchy-with myself and others. It is due to my impatience and frustration (bred from fear of Death ultimately, the idea that time is limited, and that I am not doing enough- as if immortality might be earned by doing more stuff, better- the fear that I haven’t tried hard enough) that I will often miss out on what is really happening in life. I constantly give myself a hard time for not doing things quicker, more efficiently- possessed by the idea that everything could always be better. Spoken of like this, this is clearly a ridiculous way to approach existence, I do see that; but at the same time it has been such an unconscious habit of mine for so long that I scarcely know how to behave or think differently. And when you think about it, is it really such a bad thing? Things get done, and quickly, don’t they? Well yes, things do get done- but wouldn't they anyway? Yes, there have been some benefits- if there had not then I would have seen the foolishness of being like this long before. I have worked my ass off passing exams, perfecting my characterisations (Lear, Max, Titus, Benska, Kevin, Sammy, Sam and so many, many others have been founded on impatience and rage), working tirelessly as a director, and a teacher with unrelenting self- discipline and determination. But at what cost to my inner tranquillity and peace of mind?

Mr Crocker-Harris in The Browning Version 1997

I now find myself this rainy Sunday afternoon in January- all grey clouds and howling winds- zealous to start work on my next projects as an actor and director. But I am forced to wait. I have to wait for news of when my audition for drama school will be. I am champing at the bit to get started on work I care about, but instead I am being completely snowed under with schoolwork- reports, NABS, homework and prelims to mark, lesson plans, after-school meetings blah, blah, blah…. The school have asked me to direct a summer show (Godspell) too, but there is also my production of The House of Bernarda Alba for Giffnock Theatre Players starting in 3 weeks time- and, I hope, a role in Dario Fo’s Can’t Pay? Won’t Pay! at the Ramshorn if director Maggie Lovell feels I can cram it all in with all my other commitments. I am so caught up in the frustration waiting engenders in me that I am in danger of missing out on the opportunity to properly prepare myself for the likely avalanche of work and stress all this is likely to entail. Instead I am rattling round this house this weekend, tearing my hair out, desperate to ‘be creative’ again. But today in the Quaker meeting it dawned on me that this apparently fallow period is really a heaven-sent opportunity for reconnection with my spirit, a time of inner reconstitution, for taking stock. These weeks of waiting are a spiritual test, containing a profound lesson in biding my time, rationing my energies, and calming down. But it occurred to me also that I have always tried to avoid being in the present, forever impatient to get started, to get somewhere else. Impatience is always about looking toward the future. Like a restless child on a long car journey it is constantly asking, “Are we nearly there yet? I’m bored… How much longer?” rather than simply enjoying the scenery. The boredom that child feels with what is passing him by is the best image I can think of what I have always done as a (so-called) adult; I am not really assimilating and being grateful for the fact that the journey is actually the fascinating thing, and infinitely more important and more precious than arriving at the destination. If I build up arriving in my mind so much, I will almost inevitably be let down when I do reach the final destination. And then of course there will always be something else to get impatient about. “What are we doing tomorrow, daddy? When are we going home?” I can see that if you, the reader, have a predisposition to indolence there is ostensibly much to envy in a fella like me who keeps himself so busy. But the truth is it is an addiction. You can never do enough to slake it. It’s an unappeasable, rapacious demon. And like all addictions it removes one from the richness of the present moment, reducing everything to one objective, namely getting the next fix. There is nothing romantic about this, nothing admirable. Sorry, nothing to envy here, folks. Yes, lots of stuff gets done, usually at a prodigious rate- but at the same time I am never really appreciating things as they happen. I am not stopping to smell the flowers or admire the clouds. Ever active, yes; but not fully alive. Always moving on and not allowing myself the time to reward myself by appreciating the here and now, or indeed how far I have come, or more importantly just breathing and saying “I am happy, right here and right now because I am alive.” I am rarely in the present moment. Except, that is, when I meditate. I am usually looking towards achieving something in the future. This focus means I am not fully alive. Meditation has taught me the value of being here now. I have started to appreciate how most of my life I have managed to avoid being truly connected. I live stressed out of my mind (literally); distracted, never appreciating what is really going on if I don’t take the opportunity to bring myself out of the trauma of the moment (which is really anxiety and worry about the future!) and see myself from the higher perspective of where my life really is, and what my present activity really is about within the context of my soul, the lives of others, my larger destiny, the significance of what I am doing now, its relevance to the divine will. Tearing your nerves apart is not creative.

Titus in Titus Andronicus (2000)

When God doesn’t give us stuff instantly, part of us wants to yell just hurry up and just give me it now. What we fail to appreciate is that while we wait God is actually teaching us important lessons in how to love. Because Love is patient. Sitting in the Friends’ meeting this morning, waiting for clarity, waiting for resolution, waiting for a word- it became at some point crystal clear to me- as if someone had suddenly switched a light on- that God was keeping me waiting because the waiting was itself the lesson. To wait. To be patient. To not want to hurry things through. I am dying to act again, and part of me was angry at Him for making me wait so bloody long- but from a Higher perspective it is now vital for me to acknowledge how necessary it is for me to learn patience, to appreciate the gift of acting, to enjoy just being alive, instead of simply working, working, working to avoid connecting with being alive. “Why are we waiting, why are we waiting?” …Because we are learning about the wisdom and necessity of the Discipline of Waiting, and not trying to proscribe and force the pace at which God works. In His wisdom he needs me to go deeper right now before I will be ready to take on challenges of the year ahead.

Spooner in No Man's Land (2005)

I have written a lot about love in recent posts- (Sorry to keep banging on about it!) but what the lesson is for me in this fallow period of my creative life is that the amplitude of the Love vibration needs to expand. It is not just love of character, love of the profession, love of the acting process, but love of ones’ fellow actors, ones fellow human beings, love of life, love of God in every moment- not just when you are on stage. If I can learn and appreciate this then I am going to be permitted to start work on this next phase much sooner. I have been given scraps of comfort from a number of sources in recent weeks- encouragement that I am not forgotten even though I have not done anything for a few weeks. Three people recently told me that my Lear from over 2 years ago was the best performance they’d ever seen in the theatre; Ann Marie diMambro’s kind message endorsing how moved she was by our production of her play; the review I recently stumbled across of my last performance as Stomil in Tango 7 months after the run finished. These are reminders to me that I have a place in people’s memories because of my work, and that I can afford to take some pride in the effect it has had on others- and however small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things it may be, it had at least have some value to them. I see these positive and encouraging comments as tiny karmic telegrams, saying, “Yes, you have done well; do remember that. But just hold on a bit longer; there will be more to come when you are ready to be more complete, more present, more loving, more connected, more at peace. Take this time to get some perspective on what you are doing right now, and why. What does it all mean? And what should you focus on if you are to grow in the way God wants you to grow?

Herbert in The Talented Mr Ripley (2005)

And His answer right now seems to be… Wait. That’s all: just wait...

Memories... (Part One)

My old computer printer finally went kaput Friday evening, so yesterday I went shopping in PC World and forked out £50 on a combined printer, photocopier and scanner. Ouch. :-(

But what a fabulous toy!

And so I spent most of this afternoon scanning old photographs from old theatre scrapbooks into my Facebook page, and wending my way down memory lane. Theatre is so ephemeral. I regret to say I have little to help me recall much of the first 10 years of my stage career (1976-86) in my sporadic collection of memorabilia. From Goldberg in Theatre Worshop for Youth's (TWY) production of The Birthday Party- my very first part at the age of 16- right the way through all the plays I did at college, up to and including my first TIE tours, and playing the Drum Major and the Fool on a Woyzeck tour with that Aberystwyth company (Theatre West??) which Tony Hopkins and Simon Callow saw me in and they waited around afterwards to tell me how much they'd admired my performance!- oh, and Ariel in The Tempest at the Sherman in Cardiff in 1986 are a blur. This was a period when I played so many characters- everything from a one-man Dr Faustus to the nasty Mr Breaker in Penny the Paddlesteamer- that I've actually now (perhaps mercifully) forgotten what most of them were. I was never one for wallowing in nostalgia, a second-rate emotion at the best of times I always feel. Besides, I know only too well that as an actor you are really only as good as the part you've just done, or the the one you happen to be working on at the moment.

But maybe it's because the last role I played was over 7 months ago- and I am missing the smell of the grease paint- that I felt I needed to cheer myself up with a bit of restropective musing over 'past glories'. It was only when I came to Glasgow in 1987 to do the one-man show, Hess, (playing the 90 year old Rudolf Hess in Spandau) and met Karen and she gently suggested it would be a good idea to keep a record of the plays I performed that I began to collect all this bumph- reviews, articles and photographs , etc.

Rudolf Hess in Hess (1987)

Even then I didn't keep everything. It's because of this I can't remember much at all about the work I did with Theatre Racoon during 1987-88 (Saul in True West, someone or other in Don Juan, another character in Mrozeck's The Prophets, a Salvation Army nutcase in Womberang, Len in Pinter's The Dwarfs as well as a couple of shows I directed- Father Murphy and Mrs Brown, written by my pal Alex, and Pinter's One for the Road) Becket in Murder in the Cathedral (Filboid Studge) , the tours I did with Winged Horse (as Austin in True West) or Annexe (Trevor in The Surrogate), my early experiences of the Edinburgh Fringe (1984, 1985,1989, 1991 and 1992- including The Apple; Courteous Men, Songs of Jericho both directed by successful film director Ed Blum, and Strawberry Fields directed by a wonderful actor, Adam Godley, who since gone onto greater things- including winning Olivier award for a biographical drama about the late Kenneth Williams, as well as starring opposite Johnny Depp in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), Mozart opposite Ian Aldred's Salieri in Amadeus, the various parts I played in Aida, The Merry Widow, Der Fledermaus and Oedipus Rex for Scottish Opera or Sam in Awake and Sing! at Watford Palace in the late 80s and early 90s, not to mention all those BBC Radio 4 plays I did and those bits and pieces of telly. I did happen to keep a couple of photographs of things though...

Dr Sugar in Suddenly Last Summer (1988)

This one was me playing Dr Sugar at the Edinburgh Fringe in Suddenly Last Summer in 1988 I think. I remember that the only reason I agreed to do it was because my hero at the time happened to be Montgomery Clift who had played the role in the film version...

...Much better than me in turned out!

And then there was a new play in 1990 called The Deal with a company by the name of American Connexion.

With Robert Cavannah in The Deal (1990)

The action was set in the world of dodgy business in Pittsburgh where I was a good fella entrapped into a dodgy deal by an FBI agent provocateur posing as my buddy. This production was very enjoyable experience, and we worked a lot with Meisner repetition and objectives. My colleague from that, a very fine actor by the name of Robert Cavannnah, went on to star in movies opposite Angelina Jolie.

As Jimmy Hunsinger in The Deal (1990)

So much for my early career. My old girlfriend, Pauline Males, says she has an old photo of me in a play when we were at college circa 1979-80 (although neither of us can remember the name of it) in which I played a camp Restoration fop. She says she's going to email it. I'll include it here next time if she remembers. Can't wait to see that.

Of course a great deal is missing here- but if there is anyone out there in cyber space who remembers directing or acting with me during the late 1970s, 80s and early 90s who may have had better sense than me to hang onto old photos of the shows they did please get in touch! I intend to do a few more follow-up instalments taking it up to the present day. As time went on I tended to get better at keeping photographs and reviews, etc.

The Deal (1990)

More to follow...

The Right Choice

.

My Ego tends to drown out my still small voice even in prayer and meditation. My own egoic avoidance/distraction strategies typically include
Panic-mongering, and/or Flattery

-when it comes to major life-choices.

The question of whether I give up teaching and go back to acting, or just stay put is still troubling me. My ego keeps butting in; either warning me I will suffer financially/spiritually if I make the 'wrong decision', or it tries to convince me what I am doing is really great, how much I deserve recognition, approval, money, success, blah, blah. Discernment and inner alignment becomes impossible as my Ego just can’t seem to keep its trap shut. I can't get clear reception because of the static interference.

Freedom or service…? Creativity or security…? Love of art, or mature, responsible living…? Accountable to my talent? To God? To my heart… ? Common sense???
Aaaahhhgghhh!!!

It feels far TOO important right now I choose wisely :-( I guess what I really mean is I desperately need objectivity and detachment (if that's not a total paradox!) from my fear and my vanity, and be capable of resting quite content with whatever my heart/soul finally decides.

.

Tally's Blood 2

'

Last night’s read-through was a real pleasure, and what a relief it was to discover my instincts with the casting are vindicated. I’ve assembled a lovely collection of people with a wealth of talent. It’ll be lots of fun working with them. Having said this, I’m afraid I ended up having to read in for one character. This was because I had been forced to sack the actor playing Luigi (CZ) before rehearsals had even begun. He’d decided to relocate to Oxfordshire without telling me after I’d cast him back in July! He informed me he had enlisted on a TEFL course down there, starting at the beginning October, and wouldn’t be able to make rehearsals for four weeks. He asked me if the theatre would refund his travel expenses to commute from England, as well as find digs for him! When I told him this wasn’t possible he begged to sleep on my sofa. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him as he’s obviously experiencing mental health issues, having only just discharged himself from a psychiatric unit, and is currently homeless. Despite being perfect casting for the role of Luigi, and by all accounts an amazing actor, in the end I was forced into the difficult decision of letting him go. I tried to do it gently but he wouldn’t take the hint. When the penny did finally drop he became angry with me; but, as I told him, I have to think of the team.

CZ “You’re under-estimating me, David… I can do this.”

Me “My name’s Mark.”

CZ “-Huh?”

Me “Mark... My name’s Mark.”

CZ “Sorry, yeah, of course. Mark. No, as I was saying, you’re under-estimating me… I can do this... Please, you’re not listening to me… There’s no problem. No problem at all... All I’m telling you is I need this… I need this chance to prove I can make it as an actor, that's all David.”

…And so he continued, calling me David, and pleading with mounting desperation at the end of the line, as I got later and later for work.

In the end I just have to remind myself I’m not his carer, I'm only a director. Is that harsh??? India, my wonderful assistant, confessed she’d become increasingly uncomfortable speaking to him. She’d spent so much time and effort trying to get him to commit to rehearsals and still he kept refusing to be pinned down. The only rehearsal he would promise to attend was the read-through itself. But when he told me yesterday morning that he wasn’t going to come to that either, well I guess my patience-, which was by now hanging by a thread anyway- finally snapped.

For some strange reason he’d keep speaking in Italian to India over the phone (which really unsettled her, as she’d already told him she couldn’t understand the language) in their hour-long conversations! All she'd wanted to know was when he was coming up! I can’t help but feel guilty that India’s detailed rehearsal schedule, on which she’d worked so hard, is already totally obsolete. But at least now he’s gone she can relax..

What it is that attracts me to casting a token loony in every show I direct? The last three shows I’ve directed have almost come unwound because I’ve cast a wild-card nutter. (I’m thinking of D.W. in Anna Karenina, Remi R. in A Hard Heart and now CZ in Tally’s Blood).

Hearing the script read aloud confirmed to me that Tally’s Blood is not great drama. It is simple entertainment. It has heaps of emotional warmth and sentimentality, but it isn’t by any stretch of the imagination profound art. The action and dialogue requires a light, unobtrusive touch from me. The pace and rhythm of rehearsals need to be kept rapid to maintain buoyancy and the actors’ energy levels. Nothing need ever be laboured, or too heavily weighted with interpretation, as that would only strip bare the weakness in the writing. Massimo’s monologues are clunky and incongruously abstract. There are too many superfluous stage directions- often the sign of an inexperienced playwright; the characters are corny and the relationships are clichéd... I love it though- I can’t help myself.

The issue with CZ disconcerted me at a personal level, not just for his sake but because it forced me to think again about my decision to forsake the financial security of salaried employment next summer. I don't want to end up like him. I fear ending up poverty-stricken, needy and desperate. I know that I won’t be able to sign on for the first 13 weeks, and my savings are only going to keep us going for 3 months at the most. My more courageous friends who strive to make a living from their art alone are constantly struggling to make ends meet, and live in constant debt even when they've managed to make a name for themselves. With the recession beginning to hit home, matters are likely only to get worse. My resolve is being severely tested, and I can’t help but fret I may be in danger making a foolish decision. I want so much to be able to trust my Inner Satnav, but common sense tells me it is going to be a rocky road ahead. The sensible part of me is tempting me to play safe:

“ What’s so wrong with continuing to do both- acting and teaching- just as you’ve done for the past 15 years?” it whispers.

Get thee behind me!

Still, I haven’t handed in my notice yet, and my boss is off sick for the time being, so this has bought me a little more time to consider things. I must achieve some clarity about this before I proceed. I have to ask if it’s really just that my timing is wrong. Should I just be patient and wait another couple of years…?

I'm annoyed at my weakness. Prayer and meditation are not of real help to me right now for some reason. I can't seem to hear Him properly. WHY?

"Eli, Eli lama sabachthani...?"

I'll write about what I decide next weekend.

.

START

Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.

(Benjamin Franklin)

This is just one of those famous quotes that tends to haunt the reader like some ghostly rottweiler, gnawing away at one’s heels. It just won’t let go of you. Discounting or ignoring it won’t do you a blind bit of good. Of course, that’s because, although brutal, it’s bloody true. It condemns the spinelessness that’s prepared to settle for the specious support of the status quo, or indeed the stupidity of one who plumps for the compromise of a salary cheque for a job one increasingly despises!

I have felt like a songbird in a gilded cage for a long time. The tired old axioms and clichés that say “There’s no way out”, “Life’s shit and then you die”, etc have never troubled me as much as Ben Franklin’s words because they are lies. “Like it or lump it”, “Never, never bite the hand that feeds you”, etc, etc. What’s truly astonishing to me is that it is the rational, common-sense thinkers, the pragmatists, who are content to propagate this philosophy of resignation and self-imposed imaginative impoverishment. And so you find some of the most intelligent, creative people just squandering their entire lives, silently resenting the system without ever really testing the veracity of the ancient creed that keeps them trapped in it. It was ever thus. The Powers-that-be would rather have you believe you have no real choice. You must shut up and surrender your liberty if you want your owner to continue to spoon-feed you through the bars. Take the money and do your share of the work. Just as long as you stay in that safe little cage everything’s gonna be fine.

I’m afraid I’ve accepted this for far too long, and it’s time for me to own up and do something to make old Benjamin- not to mention myself!- proud..

Few of us ever come to realise that the powers conferred upon our employers are entirely illusory. Paper tigers in fact. The only weapon they have when you think about it is their cash. Still they expect dutiful abeyance and respect as they dispense it. The boss had to climb up his/her greasy pole to ‘get where he/she is today’, and even though from the lofty standpoint of expensive ivory towers they may be able to look down on the rest of us, if they have kept a grain of perception they eventually come to the frightening realisation that actually it really wasn’t worth it after all. They have become dead inside. Does God really care about their worldly status? But they can’t be seen to admit that, it would make their life-work utterly meaningless! And so their souls continue to fossilize, and they are damned if they are going to stop now (And of course they will most likely be damned if they don’t!). Anything rather than taking responsibility for their own lives, and taking a chance. They’d much rather you depended on others, just like they do in fact, for money, security and position, relying on others to give you any sense of worth or purpose, always blithely ignoring the still small voice of integrity or moral conviction that whispers the harsh truth. Anything, anything rather do the courageous thing, to stand up and just turn round and say, “Thanks anyway, but no. I choose life,” and walk out on it.

Safety is addictive. It rapidly becomes a greedy monkey for your back. And then it kills you- just like heroin.
I don’t in the end wish to condemn anyone for this addiction. It’s everywhere. For instance, Margaret Morris, our head teacher is doing her job well. She likes me. She gave me a big hug on my first day back! Most of the teachers like her. But her heart isn’t in education really, and she admitted as much to me yesterday. Still she has a nice house and can go to fancy destinations on her holidays. I know how hard it can be to break free of this culture of obedience to a false idea. Especially if you may never have realised it is actually false.
It wasn’t easy, and it’s take me a long time to wake up to this, and then to muster the courage to act on it; but it felt so liberating to walk into Margaret Morris’ office yesterday morning and ‘calmly’ hand in my notice of resignation. I was trembling, with a mixture of fear and excitement, but I knew I was doing the right thing. It was actually thrilling. Just like I was alive again, in fact! She even admitted that she envied my courage, and wished she had the strength of will to do what I had decided to do! A number of other people- Jimmy, Laura, Linda, Suzanne, have reacted in the same way now the news has begun to leak out. I will be missed theyall say, but they are glad I am following my heart. I know they are thinking “I wish I could do that!”

I have resolved to make my mind and my heart fully and wholly congruent as best as I can from this time on I intend to be faithful to the idea of living adventurously, according to my soul’s convictions. This requires guts, integrity and determination. It would have been wrong to wait until I felt desperate, unbearably miserable or angry before I jumped ship, or in fact to do this for any other reason than it is simply the right thing for me to do. To be honest I am no longer confident I am serving others to the best of my capabilities. I have more to offer than being babysitter to boys and girls who don’t want to learn. I am very good at my job, but I could be providing far better service if I were working in a different environment, with those who weren’t constantly needing me to justify why they are doing what they’re doing, but were taking responsibility for their own development. I can no longer permit myself to be enslaved by any one or any thing any more. I hate the idea that I’m cramming these poor kids into mental cages too. And so this means I must cut loose, take responsibility for my own future. I’m an artist, not an educator. There is a huge difference.

I have not made this decision rashly but after much thought and inner searching. I may very well become poor as a result of this decision, and that’s OK-at least I will be me! I’ve never been what might be called a natural rebel, that’s not why I did this. To be honest I haven’t dropped out so that I just fall into another role that’s not really me again. I am doing this because I can be of better service to humanity doing something else, something closer to my heart, something I love. It won’t necessarily be easier- actually the very opposite! It’s bound to be much, much harder), but God and I agree on this.

God makes no guarantees of success, none whatsoever. No, I’m flying blind. All He does guarantee is that He will continue to love me. It’s become paramount to me that I demonstrate how much I love him, and I will do that by trusting His guidance. From this Christmas onward, when I leave the teaching profession for good, after nearly 15years of service, I will be obeying my heart. I want to write; I want to act and direct. I’ve become slow, lazy, old and fat, and it is time I gave myself permission to operate at 100% of my true potential before the curtains are drawn. There can be no turning back now.
I’m 48 years old on Saturday (eek!) and I do not want to look back on a wasted life of disappointment and shirked opportunity. I would hate to be old and in a chair regretting not having given my life’s passion a real try.

“Life”, as Bob Marley says, “is worth much more than gold”.

We’re jammin', Bob.

... Shew wa doo wah!

:-)

The Actor's Ego

This is Mark Coleman's publicity photograph, his "10 x8". It is not me. It shows you what 'I' look like but it cannot reveal who I really am, what my true potential as an actor-soul is, nor how God sees me. My good mate Richard Campbell who took this snap makes me look handsome I think! But it can't tell you whether I am good, fabulous, bad or indifferent as a person, or as an artist. This image flatters my ego, and it may even have helped me to get a couple of gigs, but it isn't me. My ego would dearly love to think this image an accurate reflection of how the world sees me, but I am so much more than this. OK, the camera may not actually lie (although that particular truism is debatable), but the camera is always less than candid.

But then what is 'Me'? What's 'Me' actually mean? Does anyone else - should anyone else, in fact!-really care? :-)

Connectivity and true communion with ourselves and our audience through art demands the bypassing of the ego, so that the soul forms a deeper and more reliable connection with Divine, and reveals us in a deeper, more truthful light. The integrity of the actor must consist of more than just a vague intention of being true to oneself; it demands that this "self" be exposed and honoured in in all its universal dimensions. And this takes phenomenal guts.

Inner Light cannot shine through properly when the facile ego makes its clumsy, utterly spurious attempts to claim responsibility for how the world perceives you as an artist. My own best work in the past has always been as a result of starting with a tabula rasa. When I can become truly humble, with a willingness to truly begin again from scratch. This is always utterly terrifying, this letting go of my egoic habits and rituals, confidence in my own intellect, CV, reputation, my old acting tricks and techniques, etc; but with patience and trust in the Light as my true guide, the end result is always far greater than anything I could achieve when I happen to forget to place my all my trust in my Inner Light.

The aspects of my work I gain more nourishment and satisfaction from than anything else are assuming the life of another, and the opportunity to remind myself and my audience that notion of owning a unique separate identity is actually a mere illusion, a lie. The audience and "I" merge as they identify and achieve empathy with my character's feelings and his story. It is then we are all reminded we are ultimately connected, that we are all One in God.

But the essence of the ego is Fear:

fear of being wrong, or not being enough, fear of letting go, fear of others' judgement, fear of separation, fear of attachment, fear of failure, fear of success, fear of God, fear of no God, fear of strong emotions- like joy, rage, love, jealousy, fear itself... And the forms of fear on which ego thrives are legion. These fears enslave and imprison us as artists, as creative beings and keep us in bondage to a false idea of our destiny. Our ego is a false construct, a suffocating mask which hides the beauty that God longs for us to share with the world. The greatest artists remind us of this. Through their courage they make the Inner and Outer identical. They inspire (inspirit) the rest of us to let go of this attachment to our own egos and its illusory fears, and so experience compassion and empathy for another soul. These geniuses teach us how to love again. And so they bring healing.

Fear and the ego shrivel when faced down with the courage that love bestows on us. We are called upon by God to love our art, love our character, love our audience, love Him, love our own humanity, love one another and forgive no matter what.

When Jerzy Grotowski tells us that the actor's task is to accomplish an "act of soul", he is talking about us becoming Christ- and not just imitating Him, but becoming Him-through our art. We can do this by letting go of our fearful egos and embracing love. But that feels very risky, I know. However, even if we should try our utmost and then fail we do show God that we really mean business, and He will help us grow. The ego would have us stuck forever in the same old mire.