While generals were in war rooms plotting and re-plotting ways to defeat Hitler and the Nazi forces, a small band of brothers thought of art. Specifically, they thought of Italian art. Next month, the movie The Monuments Men and its star-studded cast will pay tribute to these soldiers who thought of art in a time of war. During World War II, Italy was at risk for being pillaged and pummeled beyond hope. Supported by President Roosevelt, the Monuments Men made it their business and risked their lives to make sure that didn’t happen. Today, Italians and tourists alike can delight in the glory of Italian art because of these brave soldiers.
Smithsonian Magazine did a marvelous and in-depth article on the Monuments Men in their January issue. You can view that article online by clicking here. It is an emotional, riveting read. It made me want to run out and buy my tickets to the movie right now. We owe so much to these men who had the foresight and courage to save priceless and inspiring treasures for future generations.
“This above all: To thine own self be true.” ~ Shakespeare’s Hamlet
Maybe your creative projects have taken a backseat to other parts of your life. Maybe you aren’t making the progress you want to make in the time you’d like to make it. Don’t beat yourself. And please don’t give up. People whom you will never meet and never know could gain so much benefit from your creativity. If you love the work, then keep at it. Bit by glorious bit. Here’s why:
When I say Shakespeare, what do you say? Theater. Hamlet. Romeo and Juliet. Playwright. Old Globe. All of these are probable, wonderful answers. Shakespeare made a life in the theater and he made a living in real estate. He wrote plays because he loved to write them. I was shocked to recently learn this and I want to share it with you for a very specific reason: your career does not have to define your legacy. What you do to make money and pay the bills doesn’t need to consume you. You can choose, independent of your paycheck, how the world will remember you. Your title does not determine your passion, nor does it dictate where you place your heart, loyalty, and energy. Those are choices, and only you can make them.
Shakespeare could have easily thrown himself into his real estate work and abandoned his writing altogether. He could have relegated himself to be a laborer who didn’t have time for creative pursuits. And we would all be worse off for that choice. It took a long time for him to stabilize his finances so that he could spend the majority of his time writing in his later years. Creative pursuits are like that – we do as much as we can when we can out of our sheer desire to make something that matters. If that sounds like you, don’t despair. You’re in good company; the Bard felt your pain. He kept going. So should you.
“The object of art is to give life a shape.” ~ Shakespeare
The human experience is captured, shared, and studied through art, and yet it is generally deemed as less worthy than other disciplines in our education system. It’s labeled as a nice-to-have luxury instead of being rightfully celebrated as the crux of what it means to be human. I’m not sure when or why art was relegated to be a lower priority than other parts of our education. For many, myself included, art saves, serves, and inspires. It has kept me reaching, working, and striving for as long as I can remember. We’d be lost and unrooted without it. We would lose our history, sense of self, and connection to one another across generations.
In a time when everything seems to be up for negotiation in how we should educate our children, I hope we can change this. I hope that by the time my nieces are grown, the choice to be an artist is revered just as much as the choice to be a doctor, lawyer, or scientist. I hope art is no longer relegated to the select few who can afford it and that everyone will cultivate their own inner artist as a part of their everyday lives. Art, and the ability to make it, is a birthright, not a privilege.
It took me a while to get the hang of voice over work, to really understand how the performance works. Certainly there is a technical structure to how the script is crafted and how it should be delivered. Emotional connection separates good voice over work from great voice over work.
This emotional connection comes down to just one simple point: be who you are. I kept trying to embody a character, to be a certain way that I thought matched what the script wanted. It didn’t work. I just needed to be myself – a friend, a neighbor, someone to rely on. It’s a performance that shouldn’t be a performance at all. Voice over work is for real people who know who they are and what they care about. That’s what commercial voice over work, and life in general, is all about. Hooray for the triumph of authenticity!
“Here is my secret. It is very simple. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry from The Little Prince
“70% of our perception of the outside world comes through the eyes,” said my yoga teacher, Julia. I didn’t realize it was that disproportionate. The eyes are so powerful, so sophisticated that they overpower our other senses if we let them. Close the eyes, and we can hear, feel, smell, and taste with greater intensity. The information from these 4 senses is just as important as our sense of sight. Our combined senses lead us into our emotional intelligence. We need this give-and-take between our internal and external experiences. Together, they create the whole picture of our existence and help us to “see” clearly.
For a few minutes every day, I close my eyes during my waking hours and tap in. I scan my body for signs of change. I feel the ebb and flow of my breath. One of my favorite meditations is a sensory exploration. I imagine a place I’ve been or a place I’d like to go and I rotate through all of the senses to create a complete picture. What does the beach look like? How does it sound? What scents does it have? How does it taste? What does it feel like? And finally, how does it make me feel? This only takes a couple of minutes, and when I finally do open my eyes again, I find that a little piece of the beach is still with me. I carry right there, in my heart, and also in my nose, on my skin, in my mind’s eyes and ears, and even on my tongue.
From there, my experience of the world around me is richer because of what I’ve been able to imagine. Now I see not only what’s right in front of me, but also what’s possible which is almost always invisible to the eyes alone.
These are my two big lessons from voice over land this week: 1.) Practice pays off. 2.) When we’re trying to develop a new skill, private classes help us move ahead faster than collective, generic classes.
A couple of years ago I took a group voice over class and it was fun. I learned some basic skills, general guidelines about commercial voice over work, and details about the voice over market in New York. What I didn’t get, and needed, was refinement. I needed specific feedback on my work. When I was in California this summer, I started to think about pursuing voice overs more seriously. I phoned my voice over teacher from the class and inquired about taking the next step. He suggested private lessons.
I hesitated for a split second because private lessons aren’t cheap. Neither is making a demo. I quickly realized that if I really wanted to make a go of this, or at least give it my all, I needed to think of this money as an investment, not a cost. So I bit the financial bullet and went for it.
So far, so good. In four private lessons, and with a solid number of hours of listening to commercials, transcribing them, recording myself performing them, and listening to the playback, I’m now ready to make a demo. My coach’s advice and attention in private lessons has been invaluable and my own investment of time and effort to listen, practice, and self-critique have helped me grow by leaps and bounds in a very short period of time. If all goes according to plan, a demo leads to an agent and an agent (along with personally pounding the proverbial pavement) leads to paid work.
I’m only at step 2 – I’ll record my demo November 11th with my coach and hopefully get this show on the road. Here we go – preparing for take off. Let’s see where this path takes me next. You’ll get the news as it happens…
Last night I sent off my first playwriting fellowship application. The fellowship is with one of the theater companies I admire most in the world, right here in New York City. I have been inspired by many of their productions, philosophy, and leadership. I am quite certain they get inundated with applications and that landing even an interview is a long shot. No matter. I feel drawn to them and what they do so I’m tossing my hat in the ring.
While the play itself that I wrote this summer came pouring out of me, the personal statement didn’t flow as easily at first. The 2 questions for the personal statement were very straight forward: 1.) What kind of work do I want to make? and 2.) Why do I feel that this theatre company is the right place for me? I made a lot of notes and tossed around a lot of ideas. I’d like to think I did this in order to create a meaningful, concise statement. After a couple of weeks, I realized what I was doing. I was procrastinating. I was afraid to put my artist statement in writing and have it stare back at me. It felt like such a heavy, daunting task. What kind of work do I want to make, and why, and how, and with whom? In 750 words or less.
I would stare at a blank screen, unable to start, and then close my laptop. Last week, I put the fear aside. What’s the worst that would happen? I’d write a horrible artist statement that’s whiny and arrogant and lifeless. That’s all. And then I’d throw it in the trash having gotten all the rotten stuff out.
My artist statement wasn’t anything like that. I just answered as honestly as I could. I want to make work that has a lasting impact on how people see themselves and their contributions to humanity in a place that celebrates and supports artists. I expounded on that idea in multiple ways, but that’s the gist of it. And it felt good, really good, to say it aloud, on paper, for someone to read.
Everyone stumps for authenticity but no one tells you how hard it is to discover it, admit it, and live it. It opens us up for criticism of the very deepest part of our hearts. We give it over to someone to judge and critique and analyze. Someone peers into our essence and says, “Yes, you’re one of us” or “No, you’re not one of us.” “I get you” or “I don’t get you.” And that can be frightening. It certainly is for me, but I do it anyway because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t. I couldn’t get up everyday if I didn’t feel like I was giving the world they very best that I’ve got.
Ultimately, we have to do it. We have to be frightened and stand up anyway and say, “This is who I am, what I care about, and I want to know if we can work on this whole business of building a better world together.” It’s an invitation, and it might be accepted and it might be rejected. As artists, that is our path no matter what our medium. We have to invite people in. Some will stick around and some will stay. It’s the only way to find our pack and to help one another. This is the way forward, and it feels good to be on the path.
I do these 5 things every day without fail:
1.) I brush my teeth 2.) I walk Phin 3.) I eat breakfast 4.) I meditate 5.) I write
If we are to make a-go of our art, any art, it has to be as important as anything else we do every day. When I think of all the artists I admire, each one goes after it full-time with their full hearts. Once I saw that glaring similarity between them, I realized I had to do the same thing. I had to give myself as shot at being a full-time writer by choosing to write full-time. There was nothing else to do but that. Eventually we must decide – is this who we are or is this a hobby? Either answer is completely fine. I knew what I wanted mine to be, so I went for it.
I lived in artistic limbo for a long time. I made a lot of excuses. Now, it was time to commit, one way or the other. I’d been a writer on the side for 6 years, diligently plugging away every day, doing everything possible to improve the skills I had and build the new skills I needed. That incubation period was vital; it paved the way to today.
I still work on my skills every day. I hope I wake up every morning a better writer than I was the day before. That’s my only professional goal, and I’ll keep right on working for that as long as I have words.
File this one under things that make me immensely grateful. I looked at my slate of writing for this week and it includes:
1.) Making 9/11 a national holiday
2.) How to ask for help when in the midst of personal crisis
3.) Yoga
4.) Apartment Hunting in NYC
5.) How to maintain top website load times
6.) Health-supportive cooking
7.) Yoga
8.) Doggie daycare and boarding
9.) The value of digital marketing for start-ups
10.) Drones for journalism
11.) Pest control
12.) Voice-controlled image editing
13.) Book reviews – how to get press for your start-up, how computer programmers maintain a healthy lifestyle, and learn to program by building video games
14.) A fundraising appeal letter for an animal shelter
And then I’m going to wrap up the next edits for my first full-length play and work on Your Second Step. This is the life and career I’ve always dreamed of. Gratitude doesn’t even begin to explain how I feel. I wish for everyone, everywhere to have a heart this full.
Have something you want me to write about? I’d love to hear from you!
To get the sound we want, we have to be willing to listen to the sound we make. And then we need to change. To get the life we want, we have to be willing to see the life we have, plainly and clearly. And then we need to change. The game of voice overs and the game of life have much in common.
Yesterday I had my second private voice over session. It was difficult because now we’re getting into finer details. My coach and I are no longer okay with good reads. We want great reads. Out of this world reads. We want winners that are going to help me nail jobs, no matter what genre they fall into, the first time out of the gate. To quote Our Town, we want it to sound “like silk off a spool”.
The best way to get there is to listen. I give a read, I listen to it, my coach asks me how I did, and I tell him. Honestly, I hate hearing myself. I want to run out of the room, or at the very least stick my fingers in my ears while screaming “la la la la la, I can’t hear you.” But that won’t help. What will help is taking a read for what it is, and trying to make it better. Over and over and over again.
Voice over is an art where perfect is a moving target. Each piece is unique and the same. It’s difficult and easy. It’s flat and cool while also being easy and breezy. It’s a smile and a serious tone. It’s a mess – there are no iron-clad rules, except when there are. Maybe. Can you hear the tracks I’m laying down? The art of voice overs. The art of life. They are the same. And the only way we learn is to listen.
Christa Avampato 