Is The Voice of Dissent Alive in the Theater?

If it weren't for the current revival of The Brig playing at the Living Theatre's new space on the Lower East Side, you would hardly know from the theatrical offerings here that America is entrenched in an obscene war of aggression. Thank the Great Whomever that we still have visionaries such as Judith Malina and Hanon Reznikov around to remind us of our true calling. This is what the theater is for - dissent. Especially in a time of obfuscation and oppression such as we've been experiencing in the last six years. But why do we have so few offerings? Where are the protests? Where are the radical theater companies taking off their clothes and rolling in the avenues, getting arrested for staging sit-ins or the street theater that jars people from the oblivion of denial?

A few regional theaters may hint at the current state of affairs, reviving old masterpieces that send a vaguely anti-war message. Plays such as G.B. Shaw's Arms And The Man, Arthur Miller's All My Sons, or even the age-old Lysistrata pop up in small theaters and colleges around the country. But what has our generation contributed to the dialogue of current affairs? Are we just too shell-shocked to even go there? Too horrified at the actions of our own government? Too complacent or complicit?

Please somebody tell me I'm wrong. Let me know what's going on that I don't see. I want to know we're still alive, still vital, still answering the call to social responsibility that is the lifeblood of the theater. If nothing else comes from adversity, at least let there be art in the making.

When I think of theater in a time of war, my mind immediately travels to Bertolt Brecht, who created a whole method of acting in answer to the bourgeois ignorance which gave birth to Nazism. (It is no coincidence that Judith Malina is a direct descendant of Brecht's lineage, having studied with the great director Irwin Piscator at the New School before founding the Living Theatre with her husband Julian Beck.) This is courage in the face of death. Art flying in the face of supreme power. Do any of us still have the backbone to tell each other the truth?

I recently came upon a website devoted entirely to Brecht. Under the Freedom of Information Act, the FBI has released its files on the playwright. You can read the whole thing here. One passage however, in the very beginning, sums up how the Bureau was building a case in pursuit of Brecht:

On March 5, 1943, Source "B" advised that he knew BRECHT by reputation in Germany, where he was considered a radical and an assoicate of persons with Communistic inclinations. Source "B" stated that he became acquainted with BRECHT personally in the United States and found him still a radical and an enemy of Capitalism.

We could do with a few more enemies like that. Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Dixon Place #4

I resumed my work today at Dixon Place with director Eva Burgess. It's extraordinary. Just the walk downtown from my apartment in the East Village was harrowing. It was a hot, muggy, stifling day in New York City. And there is so much construction going on on the Bowery that you can hardly hear yourself think. Everywhere you look there are trucks and scaffolding and cranes and noise. The Bowery has become the new chic part of the city, and is home to some of the most expensive real estate. Go figure. When I first moved here in the early 80's the Bowery was, well...the Bowery. Times change.

But it was exciting to be going to rehearsal nonetheless. I'm simply astonished by Eva. She carries Sabina, her 4 week old baby, with her into rehearsal like it's nothing. There's something about that new life in the room that is completely awe-inspiring. It seems like the most natural thing in the world to have this completely fresh life in the room. So much fertility. So much possibility. So much responsibility. But Eva is all about the work. Never mind the baby. What are we doing today?

But there are points in any process where everyone just needs to stop and take a breath. Today was the breath we've been needing.

We're developing a new work that takes some of its subject matter from Peyton Place, the 1956 blockbuster novel by Grace Metalious. I chose this story because of its small-town setting, its literary daring, and the iconic place it assumed in the lexicon of Americana at the end of the 20th Century. I also chose it for the story of incest that is revealed in the novel. In telling the story of Serena Cross - a high school girl who bludgeons her step-father to death after repeatedly molesting her - I am hoping to tell my own story. (Don't worry. I never bludgeoned anyone to death!)

But what we're attempting is much more than just re-telling an old story. It involves moving into new emotional and artistic terrain for me. I think more than at any other time in my life, I'm finally challenging myself to bring the most painful parts of my life into my work. It's terrifying. And the thought that constantly surfaces is - is this interesting? Is this worth telling? Is this theatrical and worth exploring? I do not imagine doing any kind of a "bio-pic". I think the facts of any past event are not nearly as interesting as the feelings they stir in the present. It's a matter of finding the right tone for the piece: empathy, humor, theatricality, expression.

So today was one of those days where we needed to just sit and begin to tell the story. My story. The "elephant in the room". Because we need to be on the same page. Eva needs to know where I'm coming from. We need to move through the literal to arrive at the universal. And it wasn't so hard. We're building trust. Little by little. One day at a time. Allowing the process to happen rather than forcing an idea onto the stage. Every time we're together I gain more and more trust in Eva, as an artist and as a friend.

This is a journal of our rehearsals, a diary of our progression. I think it's important to just say that working isn't always working - moving around, making things up, being brilliant. Sometimes its just sitting and talking to each other. This is the process too. Thank you, Eva. And thank you dear reader, if you've gotten this far. More to come, I'm sure.

W. M.

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Steel Yourself

You've heard it a thousand times: the poor starving artist, it's a tough business, don't quit your day job, what are you going to do for money, what restaurant do you work at? Is it all true? Were our detractors correct? Well, maybe - maybe not. For some lucky ones, no - never. There are those who "hit it" right out of the starting gate. They got a play that led to a film that landed them a series, etc. But for most of us it isn't like that. Sometimes it seems like we get enough work just to keep us in the game. We have good years and bad. We get callback after callback but no job. We can't get an agent. We have an agent. We want a better one. We begin to doubt ourselves: How long should I stay at it? Am I fooling myself? Did I make a terrible mistake? What if I quit just before my "break"? On and on and on.

Then, if we start comparing ourselves to others, we're sunk. I sometimes become obsessed with tracking the careers of my classmates: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Kristen Johnston, Clark Gregg, David Pittu, Adam Sandler. Everybody else is famous! Why did I miss it? Am I a big loser? Where did I go wrong? There will always be someone who has a better career, more contacts, more money, more talent, who is younger, smarter, richer. Going down this path will destroy you!!

My career is my career. Your career is yours. And life is a curious thing. You don't know what is going to happen. You could be up one minute and down the next. But if we really are committed to working in the theatre, what's most important is the journey. We have to take care of the things we have control of. Learning to love and nurture ourselves when nobody else cares, taking classes even after decades of professional work, taking time off, learning to do something else - these are the things that are most important. I say all of this mostly for my own sake because I operate at such a high level of anxiety most of the time. It really isn't serving me anymore.

I've heard it said to be an actor you must have "nerves of steel", be "wiling to risk it all", have an "ironclad ego". This is all true enough. But actors are trained to open up, be vulnerable, express the darkest places of themselves in order to convey a greater truth. Vulnerability works great if you're auditioning for a Tennessee Williams play, but it doesn't help much with a toothpaste commercial.

So is it really money vs. art? No way.
Is it possible to have a fulfilling career without being famous? Yes indeed.
How do you hang in there? Practice, practice, practice.

And by practice I mean spiritual practice. Emotional practice. Working on yourself in therapy or through meditation, yoga, or any other number of ways. It's the journey that counts. I just keep telling myself that because, believe me, there are days when it is hard, hard, hard. I know this post isn't saying anything new. If you're in the theatre you already know this. But sometimes it helps to be reminded by others who are on the same road.

If you're really having a hard time, take a look at the services offered by the Actors Fund. Everyday they are saving our lives through their social services, chemical dependence treatment, HIV support services, housing assistance...the list goes on an on. Go there! Get help! And if you can afford it send a donation! They have a particularly excellent group offered several times a year called Money And The Performing Artist. Conducted by therapist Annette Lieberman (author of The Money Mirror), this group may just turn your head around about "surviving" in this industry. It sure did help me!

Lastly...be gentle and kind with yourself. When you don't get the callback, the part, the agent, the audition, just remember: you may have dodged a bullet! I remember something a veteran actor I was working said: "I've been in hits. I've been in flops. They all close!"

Good luck, bad luck? Who knows.When its right for you it will happen.

Strength to you,
Wayne