That thin line between dream and reality

So, the dream I had last night was a pretty good dreamworld interpretation of my life right now.

I was at a party hosted by my Aunt and Uncle (who live in Massachusetts, I have no clue where we were supposed to be though, because it was this building with endless hallways and rooms that I've never seen before). There was lots of food, but I couldn't find anything vegan. Various relatives took turns holding Anton while I searched for something I could eat. My sister told me there were several huge pizzas in one room, but of course they all had cheese on them.

I would see something that looked vegan, only to find it wasn't once I put it on my plate. For example, what I thought was a plain salad turned out to be a Caesar salad, and cut up fruit turned out to have cottage cheese on it.

Then, somehow, there was an NTI reunion going on in the same building. We were divided into groups, and given a scene to work on and present. My group's scene was from Shakespeare's Coriolanus. The group decided I should play the title character. But then I realized I hadn't seen Anton in what seemed like hours. I searched all through the building, running into various relatives, and none of them could remember when they'd last seen him, or who had been holding him.

So I ended up full of anxiety, wanting to find him but knowing my group was waiting for me to rehearse our scene. I was also worried that if I didn't nurse him soon I would leak onto my shirt and therefore fail to portray a male character convincingly (ha!).

I began to wake up, and realize that Anton was sleeping next to me. I was torn between relief that he wasn't lost and sadness that I had to leave the dream world before I got to act in the scene from Coriolanus.

The basics.

A group of NTI alums in New York recently formed a collective, and they offer acting classes taught by NTI teachers. I'm on their email list, and reading about these classes makes me wish I lived in NYC. Except, you know, that it's cold, expensive, and eats little starry-eyed artsy types like me for dinner...

Anyway, in his description of an upcoming class, Michael Cadman said something that resonated with me:

I am most concerned to make opportunities for the students to overcome what seems to be a major obstacle in much of their acting: themselves. Without ridding ourselves of the need to be constantly monitoring our work, constantly worrying about what others might be thinking of us, we cannot hope to stay in the moment and be truly and freely reactive. I think we all recognize this, both from what we've read about acting and from frustration in our own experience. Until we have felt the power of simply listening and responding and realized the beautiful simplicity of it; until we have let go and trusted ourselves in the hands of our creative partners, be it writers, directors or most importantly our fellow actors; until we have sort of discovered it for ourselves, it is difficult maybe to believe this power even exists.

The pressure to come up with a clever way of delivering a line can be so distracting. It's easy to see when an actor is doing this, and it usually falls flat. Truly listening to the other actor(s), and responding to their offerings, is more powerful. I've seen actors come up with something funny in one rehearsal or performance, and then refuse to let go of that choice even as it continually fails to work as well as it did the first time. The thing is, theater is live. A play is a living thing. It's never exactly the same show twice. That's why the great choice you made last night may not be the right choice tonight.

The concepts Cadman describes are so simple, but so easy to overlook, especially in the high-pressure settings of audition and performance. Since I can't travel to NYC every week to take this class, I've been trying to apply these concepts to my own work here at home.

(Another cool thing about NYC is that I hear there's a ton of vegan food options there. Like, say, if a vegan found herself craving donuts, I bet she could find them in NYC. If said vegan lives in New Orleans, she has to make her own vegan donuts.)