“Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.” ~ Edgar Degas
I believe in the deep healing of art. I didn’t always believe that. I knew it was healing for me but for a long time I thought my work in the arts was frivolous, self-indulgent, and a waste of time. How time changes and teaches us!
In the 8 years since I left professional theatre management, I have not missed it. The impossibly long hours, the stress and pressure, the constant hustle. Even when you have a job in that business, you’re always looking for work because a gig is gone in the blink of an eye. But I miss it now, in a very deep and passionate way.
More and more, I have thought about trying my hand at it again now that I have a bit more business experience under my belt and a few more lines of time around my eyes. This time I won’t be creating the environment for art for my own sake, but for the sake of others.
And with this publication I must thank the editor of MediaShift, Amanda Hirsch, for her continuous support of my writing. I am humbled and honored to now have the chance to work for her on a project that is near and dear to her heart. Amanda and I met because of this blog. She was moving to New York City from DC with her husband, Jordan, and she was searching for people writing about creative living in New York. My blog popped up in her search.
The internet has such a lovely way of tangling together fates and futures. I recently went back to that first introductory email that Amanda sent to me over 3 years ago. True to form, she closed the email with “keep writing.” I’m glad I followed her advice and encouragement.
Let me know what you think of the article on MediaShift!
My friend, Trevin, future editor of the New York Times Theater section, told me if I see one show this season, Richard III should be it. I couldn’t refuse. My friend, Rob, and I went to see Kevin Spacey in the title role at BAM last week. Neither of us had ever been to BAM and we’re huge fans of the play and of Mr. Spacey.
Over the past few weeks I’ve been thinking a lot about passion, and what it means to live a life filled with activities that are close to our hearts. As my years tick on, I’m reminded that time is moving and that we are not going to be here forever. The phrase “If not now, then when?” is stuck on constant replay in my mind. Seeing Richard III was exactly the show I needed to see to drive this point home.
Mr. Spacey is brilliant, haunting, maniacal, funny, and exhausting as Richard III. Rob and I kept looking at each other wondering how on Earth he gets the energy to play that role day in and day out. Between the physical and emotional demands, and the energy required to effectively drive home the true essence of the character, he must literally fall into bed every night. He is laying his heart bare on that stage at every single performance and we can’t help but take that journey with him. He draws us in and does not let us go. It’s so clearly a labor of intense love for him.
That’s the kind of spent feeling we should all aspire to. What would our lives look like if every day we were so enthralled with our work that we could literally pour ourselves, everything we have, heart and soul, into the roles we choose to play? What if we could all find that role of Richard III in our own unique way, just as Mr. Spacey has found his? Imagine how passion could transform everything we set our minds to.
“Comics say funny things and comedic actors say things funny.” ~ Ed Wynn via Carol Burnett, Happy Accidents
Over the winter holidays I started reading the wonderful book Happy Accidents, a memoir by comedic actress Jane Lynch. At turns the book is hilarious, heartwarming, and heartbreaking. Jane has the incredible ability to make people feel for her without making them feel sorry for her. I hope she’ll be writing many more books in the years to come. Carol Burnett, one of my creative heroes, wrote the forward for the book and in it she recounts a story the legendary Ed Wynn told her regarding his ideas about great comedy.
Jane Lynch is hilarious not because she tells jokes. She plays every one of her characters with a sincere sense of seriousness that makes her characters even more funny. It’s a rare and beautiful gift that she worked very hard to craft and hone. While Ed Wynn was talking about comedians and actors (and Carol Burnett extended this story as explanation of Jane’s abilities as a comedic actress), it got me thinking about how applicable this idea is to so many areas off the stage, especially to business. We have to make our own funny, meaning we need to make the very best of what we’ve got and shape into what we want it to be within the context of circumstances.
Jane Lynch isn’t handed a script full of jokes and one-liners. No one even tells her how or when to be funny. She’s given a script detailing a situation of her character, and then she runs with it. She doesn’t find the humor in the circumstances; she makes it.
Running a business is similar. We’re handed a set of market circumstances, not a business plan or even an idea of a business plan. We have to build the creative business idea and the plan that brings it to life that links to the market circumstances. We don’t happen upon a relevant and desired idea; we make it so.
I started my career working in professional theatre, and I was always surprised by the perceptions of those outside the industry who thought we were just playing. My theatre work was the very best business training I ever received (and yes, it did teach me more than my MBA.) Theatre is a lot more than actors, sets, costumes, lights, and a stage. It added up to be far greater than just the sum of its parts. It taught me how to craft not only a show, but a story, a life, and a legacy. It showed me that the very best road to take is the one we pave for ourselves.
“Acting doesn’t come natural to me. I’m very cerebral about it, unlike Joanne (Woodward), who is an intuitive actor. Acting to me is like dredging a river. It’s a painful experience. I simply do not have the intuitive talent. I worry about acting and constantly complain to myself about my own performance…and this doesn’t fall into the area of self-deprecation. I don’t know the things I have a gift for except tenaciousness…I never felt I had any gift at all to perform but it was something that I wanted badly enough so I kept after it.” ~ Paul Newman, Inside the Actor’s Studio
I had lunch with my dear friend, Trevin, yesterday. Eventually, he will be the Editor of The New York Times Theatre section because he knows just about every historical fact there is to know about the theatre. He tipped me off to the first episode of Inside the Actors Studio, on which Paul Newman was a guest. I found the episode in its entirety on YouTube and for the first time, I heard someone articulate how I feel about my own career and craft. My only real gift is tenaciousness. And I finally stopped feeling badly about that because I’m in good company with Paul Newman.
If I want something badly enough, I will figure out how to make it happen. It was true through all of my schooling, in every job I’ve ever had, in my writing, teaching, and business work. None of it came naturally or easily but I wanted my successes so much that I just refused to give up. And as Babe Ruth famously said, “It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up.”(Incidentally, this is incredibly true for yoga instructors as I wrote about on a post back in May.) I’ve never understood the idea that we should take the road of least resistance. All of the roads before me, if they were even built at all, were riddled with obstacles and resistance. I just decided to get around, over, under, and through them with every tool I could find.
I also tried very hard for my failures. I’ve failed at a good many things in my life, but it was never for lack of trying. Only a lack of truly wanting. I eventually failed at those things because I simply didn’t want to keep trying to get better at them. I found that they just weren’t worth all of the effort I would need to extend to make them happen. I moved on.
People have asked me if this year of beginnings has been frightening or discouraging to me. After all, I purposely put myself in the beginners seat and as if that weren’t enough, I shared all of it every day here on my blog for the entire world to read and judge (if they chose to.) For some I guess this process would have been frightening. For me, it was a year filled with days like all the days of my life.
I started each morning of this year exactly the same way as I’ve started every morning of my life – as someone who had to try very hard at every moment to make my life work the way I wanted it to work. Some days I was successful and some days I failed miserably. When each day was done and I put myself to bed, I was grateful for every single one no matter the outcome.
I am a perpetual beginner: always curious, never satisfied, and in constant search of my edge and my limitations. I guess you could say I’m a professional beginner because it’s the only thing I’ve ever really been. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Samuel L. Jackson and Angela Bassett in The Mountaintop
“Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn’t matter with me now, because I’ve been to the mountaintop.
And I don’t mind.
Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!” ~ Dr. Martin Luther King
My friend, Pam, insisted that I see The Mountaintop, a play that chronicles the fictional last night of Dr. Martin Luther King’s life, which he spends speaking with a maid at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee. Angela Bassett is stunning in her immersion into her character, exhibiting a wide-reaching array of emotions from one moment to the next. (She’ll be getting a Tony nod, no doubt.) Samuel L. Jackson played Samuel L. Jackson, and I really wanted him to play Martin Luther King. Surely, he is capable of it, right? Why was he directed to be so, well, normal? Where was Martin Luther King, the most inspiring speaker in recent history?
I mulled this over from the moment he stepped on stage. And then Aretha Franklin sat down next to me, a few minutes after the lights went down. She is the closest we have to royalty in the this country. And she is regal. Elegant. And reserved. When the lights came up after the bows, I stood up, smiled wide and wished her a good evening. She smiled wide and nodded. People all around us noticed her – there is no way to mistake her for anyone else – and she quickly sat back down. She is after all, just a woman watching a show that her friends are performing.
It struck me how ironic it would be that I would be watching the story of one legend while seated next to another. We expect a lot of public figures. We do expect them to be perfect at every turn, to inspire us, impress us, and all the while maintain constant composure. We hold them to impossible standards, standards we never meet, standards we never even attempt.
In The Mountaintop, Dr. King talks about how death doesn’t look or feel the way he thought it would. It wasn’t what he expected. And death responds, “You’re not what I expected, Preacher King.” And then I realized what Samuel L. Jackson was doing in addition to playing Samuel L. Jackson. He was showing us the fear and the humanity of a man who we have canonized when in truth he was just a man. A dedicated, passionate, empowered man, with flaws and doubts and inconsistencies.
Dr. King has inspired generations of people around the world, and he did what all of us can do and few of us actually do. He picked up the baton and ran with it, passing it off when his time had come. How many of us will have the courage to do the same?
I was honored to have the chance to connect with Mark H. Dold, the brilliant actor who plays C.S. Lewis, about his role, the piece, and why the ideas it raises are so important for us to consider in this day and age. I highly recommend grabbing a ticket as soon as you can.
Christa – How did you come to learn about and be cast as C.S. Lewis in Freud’s Last Session?
Mark – It was a random phone call from Barrington Stage Co. Artistic Director Julianne Boyd. A reading was being done in NYC at The Cosmopolitan Club in the Fall of 2008. The head of the board, Maryanne Quison is a member. The reading was to increase awareness of BSC. The actor scheduled to read the role of C.S. Lewis was not feeling well the day before, so I was asked at the eleven hour to step in. I’ve been in the role ever since.
C – What a wonderful turn of fate for you! What was your first reaction to the piece?
M – I didn’t know what to think. I only had 24 hours to wrap my brain around the script and that’s not nearly enough time. I’m still researching Lewis over a year later. I remember thinking that the script was dense and I was unable to see any of he humor that came flying out when we actually began rehearsing and performing the piece in the Berkshires. Beyond that, I will never forgot how I felt after the reading at The Cosmopolitan Club. In two quick days I had managed to fall madly in love with the play in a way that hadn’t happened in a long time. I loved the idea, the debate, the characters.
What really struck me was how the two men seemed very real. They were hardly iconic cutouts. There was flesh and blood there. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be “brain smart” enough to play Lewis but I knew I was “heart smart” enough.
C – I love that idea of being “heart smart”. You’ve been researching C.S. Lewis now for over a year. How do you conduct that research?
M – I decided very early on not to do any reading beyond September 3, 1939. It was important to me to know everything Lewis had written up to this point. After all the play is about the man he is not the man is going to become. Of course one informs the other, but if the words didn’t exist on the page by Sept. 3, 1939, then I didn’t read it. Of course I am familiar with The Chronicles of Narnia but, again, I didn’t go back to them.
I focused on Lewis’ early writing. His letters, his poetry, and found his autobiography Surprised By Joy very helpful. That book was written later in his life but it focuses on his earlier days leading up to his conversion with Freud. I also made sure to read anything that is referenced in the play. GK Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man, The New Testament, etc. I did a lot of reading. I still am.
People coming to the show are now sharing some of their favorite books with both Martin [Rayner; the actor who plays Freud] and me. Some they’ve read and even some they’ve written. I’m trying to read those as well.
C – Is it at all intimidating to play such a well-known historical figure?
M – I was completely intimated! I still am! I think I will remain in a state of continual intimidation until the day the show closes. I never thought I would be smart enough to play a man with a brain like Lewis. Once I started working on the role I quickly realized that you can’t play a man’s brain. You play someones heart and soul. The more I read about Lewis in his younger years, uncovering events and people who had critical influence on his development, the more I began to understand him. He’s a man, just like me. His experience brought him to his thinking. Not the other way around.
I’m an actor; I can play experience. You can’t play thought. At the Yale School of Drama our brilliant acting teacher Earle Gister was always talking about how to make your scene partner “feel” something, because you have to change the way someone feels about something before they change the way they think about it. The head FOLLOWS the heart. Not the other way around.
C – Has your performance evolved throughout the show’s run? If so, how?
M – People keep asking me how I can keep my performance fresh after six months and I have to admit I’m not having trouble doing that. I believe that speaks to the wonder of Mark St. Germain’s script and the subject matter. How could you possibly tune out while having a discussion with one of history’s most fascinating characters? A discussion about one of the most mind-bending issues known to man?
Just yesterday a line hit me like it never has before. I thought “O,M…..,that’s what that line is really about! Of course!” Also, over time, Martin and I have gotten to a place where we know this piece so well that there is an ease, a complete lack of tension on stage that I can’t remember ever feeling. I feel completely open and available to anything that may occur.
Also, now I really have the sense that when people come to see this play they are putting themselves into our hands. They truly trust us to take them on this journey and deliver them back safely by the play’s 75 minute conclusion.
I’ve always known that to be the unspoken agreement between actor and audience but I’ve never felt it more intensely then I have with this production. People are coming to see this play really out of trust. Out of faith. We’ve discovered over the months that 80% percent of our audience is there because someone else told them to come see the show. They aren’t there because of some million dollar advertising budget, or because a superstar is taking a turn on stage between movies. They are coming because people they trust told them to. They come to this little theatre that no one’s heard of to listen to two actors that most people wouldn’t recognize talk for an hour and thirteen minutes. That trust gets transferred to us. It’s an amazing feeling.
C – Can you talk a little bit about your acting partnership with Martin Rayner?
M – Martin and I are very lucky. Our chemistry just works. Plain and simple. It’s something you can’t bottle, buy or rehearse. It’s either there or it’s not. We’ve shared a lot and learned a lot from each other both on stage and off.
Freud’s Last Session runs its 200th performance this evening at 7pm at the Marjorie S. Deane Little Theater. Tickets are currently available for performances through Sunday, May 1st. For more info, click here.
In 1998, I saw the play Picasso at the Lapin Agile in San Francisco. I remember being completely riveted watching the fictional meeting of two of the most inspiring characters of all time, Einstein and Picasso. This construct for a play appealed to me so much that I still routinely think about that show 12 years later. It was at times touching and sad, joyful and hopeful. Full of lively, passionate debate and intense discussion about timeless social issues, I always felt it would be hard for a play to match Steve Martin’s brilliance.
Lucky for us Mark St. Germain has succeeded in building a script that’s even more powerful and thought-provoking than Martin’s – Freud’s Last Session, now playing off-Broadway at The Marjorie S. Deane Little Theater at the West Side YMCA. Freud’s Last Session showcases the possibly factual meeting between a young C.S. Lewis, a devout Christian and the gifted author who would go on to write The Chronicles of Narnia and The Screwtape Letters, and Sigmund Freud, a life-long atheist, consummate intellectual, and founding figure of psychoanalysis, who is at the very end of his life and career, dying of oral cancer. Set in London on September 3, 1939, the invasion of Poland by the Nazis serves as the political backdrop of their meeting.
The piece made me laugh out loud one moment, and tug at my deepest convictions the next. The dialogue is so sharp and the acting by Martin Rayner (Freud) and Mark H. Dold (Lewis) so penetrating that the 75-minute show flew by, too quickly in my opinion. I wanted more of the debate and the history. I found myself rooting for their relationship, and wanting it to go on, in spite of knowing that 20 days later Freud would engage his long-time friend and physician to end his battle with cancer.
The show touches upon an incredibly diverse set of themes: religion first and foremost, war, death, sexuality, fear, faith, love, memory, humor, and change. While this list of topics seems overwhelming, they are in the very capable hands and words of St. Germain, who expertly weaves them together in such a seamless way that I found myself completely wrapped up in the story as if it were my own. The language he uses is so vivid and the mannerisms of the actors are so authentic that I truly felt I was peering into a window on history. This play is the most rare form of theatrical work – a perfect script. Every single word precisely and beautifully chosen. The set and lighting designs are so realistic that I felt transported across space and time to Freud’s London study to witness this single, emotional meeting.
This show has a special, very personal meaning for me because my father was a Freudian psychologist. He passed away when I was a teenager, long before I ever had the opportunity to have a conversation with him as Lewis may have had with Freud. I didn’t get the opportunity to understand his contradictions and complexities, though that may have been for the best. At the end of his life, he was in a great deal of pain physically and emotionally, as Freud was. Through the dialogue of Freud’s Last Session, I was able to put together some more pieces about my father’s personality, as if I had actually been placed there in that seat for a very specific reason – to help me get a little bit closer to understanding my childhood. My thanks to Mark St. Germain for this amazing gift; he has inspired me to dig deeper and learn more about Freud and Lewis. I’m confident that there are more answers there, waiting for me to discover them. And that is perhaps the greatest lesson of the show – that self-discovery is a journey that never ends and yet must be pursued. As he so adeptly has Lewis say, “The real struggle is to keep trying.”
Freud’s Last Session runs through November 28th at The Marjorie S. Deane Little Theater. Don’t miss it.
Image above depicts Mark H. Dold and Martin Rayner as Lewis and Freud, respectively.
Yesterday I was in midtown to get a pie as a gift for my hosts this weekend. My pal, Dan, and I are heading to Philly for a weekend – our third long weekend of travel together. (The other two were to Portland, Maine and Nashville.) We’re staying with Dan’s friends and I’m bringing a pie from The Little Pie Company as a gift for them. I went to college in Philly and haven’t been back in a number of years. Dan has never been. I’m excited to see what we find – Philly holds a mix of emotions and experiences for me, some of the very best and very worst of my life.
As I headed back to the subway from The Little Pie Company, I walked by the theatre where Spiderman the Musical will open on November 14th. The stagehands were outside the stage door having lunch. I asked them if they were working on Spiderman, they said yes, and asked if I’d like a tour of the theatre. I gladly accepted.
It’s been a while since I’ve stood on a Broadway stage. It used to make me so nervous. I’d do whatever I could to avoid standing on the stage – I have had a life-long struggle with stage fright. Or at least I used to. Today standing on the Spiderman stage didn’t make me nervous at all. It kind of felt like going back to my hometown after being away for a long time. Some things were different and all in all it felt very familiar.
I know and understand all of the reasons I stopped managing Broadway shows. I’ve never considered going back. That was a chapter of my life that I’m so glad I had, and I’m so glad I left when I did. It was still the best business training I’ve ever had, and I was so fortunate to have that experience. But for just a split second, I imagined what it might be like to go back. I could feel the exhilaration of starting something new and unique, helping bring a new vision to delighted audiences. Maybe there’s a way to weave it back into my life, not in the same way as I did all those years ago, but in some new form that better fits my life and outlook today. I’ll mull that over and let you know what I find. I find it ironic that I would have this experience just as I’m heading to Philly, where I first considered a career in professional theatre, and on the same day that I received an invitation in the mail for a New York City theatre event sponsored by my Philly alma mater. Universe, what are you trying to tell me?
For the record, Spiderman is going to be a crazy, wild production. It will be unlike anything we’ve ever seen. That’s all I’m saying so as to protect the artistic integrity and the magic of life on the Great White Way. Grab some tickets before they’re gone!
“I frequently laugh while contemplating my future.” ~ A Little Night Music
My friend, Rob, took me to see A Little Night Music to get my birthday kicked off in style. We couldn’t pass up the chance to see Angela Lansbury, who is stunning in the role. Rob knows the show well, but I’d never seen it before even though I know a good deal of the music. Send in the Clowns, one of the most prominent musical numbers, is among my favorites.
One of the things I loved most about the show was its poignant one-liners, sentiments that pop off the stage without being too sappy or preachy. Like the one quoted above, they are simple expressions of the human condition. My sister, Weez, will tell you that I am laughing all the time, even in my sleep. My niece, Lorelei, laughs in her sleep, too. We think our future, heck our past and present too, is funny.
I go about making my plans, and then wake up every morning wondering what happened. How did I get HERE? I’m equally amazed by the challenges I’ve been dealt, and the many good fortunes, too. I work hard, though I never really planned much of this life o’ mine. And ever year when my birthday comes around, I’m surprised at where I’ve landed because I never saw any of it coming my way. There’s no need to push, pull, tug, or hurry along life – it really happens on its own.
So on the eve of my 34th birthday, I’m smiling, laughing even, because I just don’t know where my future is headed and for the first time in my life I feel okay about it. It’s okay to be empty. It’s okay to have someone ask me, “so what’s next” and to hear myself respond, “I don’t know.”
My friend, Trevin, called me today to wish me a happy birthday in advance. I actually got a little choked up while listening to his voice mail. “You’re do amazing things with your life just by being you, Christa,” he said. That made me laugh out loud, too. In a way he was telling me to just relax, enjoy my life, and sure, laugh into the future. After all, what’s the alternative?
Christa Avampato 