the feisty pharaoh

so: i’m in my very first trailer on my very first day of shooting my very first tv role on a knock-out of a show (by aaron sorkin on hbo).  it hasn't quite hit me yet, but i don't need to be hit to know it’s pretty much the best of the best.  i was surprised how terrified i was before i got to set, i really thought I was gonna barf.  i ate because i felt i needed to (you’re supposed to do that in the morning, right?) and then had to lie down because of this overwhelming sensation of knots chewing up my stomach.  but i've learned fear is just sign that i'm doing something right!

i’ve grown so much this week, primarily lead by the principle of following what scares the shit out of me.  first, starting to work with a company like a noise within has been such a blessing.  everyone knows how to work!  they have resources!  the space is beautiful!  the creative possibilities seem endless.  and i must say, working so closely with jeanie hackett, whose work i’ve admired for a while, is simply a gift from the gods.  her versatility, depth, nuances, passion.  ah, exquisiteness!  

and starting that scared the bejeezus out of me too.

additionally, i'm also playing a third vastly different character in a great production of balm in gilead that's opening this week as well.  i keep telling people i'm "like a pig in shit" right now -- it's crass, but true!  being a little gypsy that vamps around town transforming from a teenage revolutionary to a hot-mess hooker to an ancient egyptian eunuch, and back again!  i live for this, it's my bliss. 

and for this bliss, i have had to take risks, make massive sacrifices, and spar with fear on a daily basis.  going into 2012, i had almost nothing to my name, i was in the midst of witnessing my dear grandmother's rapid decline, and i was tempted to give it all up.  but instead of caving in, i kept on doing the work i knew was my real work, the work that has nothing to do with commerce. my grandmother's terrible condition cemented my committment to my art -- it became a cause outside of myself -- and my broke state was a great motivator for a well-paying gig. looming hunger can really get you engaged in a scene, let me tell you!  i took a risk to believe in myself when few others did.  that's how i see myself: a little, foolish gypsy looking for a good story to tell and an open ear, always traveling on regardless of anything.  living with courage isn't easy or fun, but it's the only way to reach the greatness of who you really are.

but back to hbo: it’s been a real gift to have luminaries such as jeff daniels, dev patel, and aaron sorkin all on my side today.  in spite of myself, i’m going to take that to heart -- like really own that and use it to be bolder be fuller in the work.  why i have some resistance to these affirmations is a whole other post, but as steven pressfield writes in the war of art: the more you face resistance, the more important and more essential the battle.

all this makes me finally realize: i wasn’t crazy to believe in my talents and my passion all these years -- i was crazy for ever doubting them!  it’s a funny biz, with so much silent disproval and loud praise at random times (sometimes at the same time).  it’s funny that we need validation so.  i wish it wasn’t the case, but it’s how it is.  until these little nuggets of affirmation really get to me, i have to run on my own fuel of validation.  no wonder actor-people go crazy.  maybe the insanity of upholding ones artistic integrity in a world of rubbish is what makes us that way.  i hold that more sacred than anything and i feel hackett does as well: a sort of total commitment to the art.  i think sorkin is a kindred spirit in this way as well... fighters for the integrity of compelling, truthful story-telling no matter fuckin' what.

but back to the simple point i’ve tried to make: when people tell you to “believe in yourself,” as cloying as it sounds, it’s true.  it’s not only true, it’s essential.  no one will know your value until they do -- except you!  the little gypsy will be booed, snubbed, silenced, mocked, dismissed, duped... regardless of any of this: the true gypsy carries a secret, the secret that s/he is so phenomenally unique and infinitely talented... and s/he knows that when one day some stars will align and that secret will be revealed to the world in a big way. 

if you can’t believe in that, put down your weary gypsy fiddle and go get a 9 to 5.

1. connect to a cause or power larger than yourself while you prep.  why are you telling this story?  for whom?  what is your purpose as an actor?  this can be anything that inspires you -- but try to focus outward as opposed to on yourself, your career, and your ego.

2. limit the number of times you speak the text aloud (this is for film/tv).  it's hard to be present if you've over-prepared (resist the fear that makes you obsess with memorization or molding a performance).

3. a practical one: always introduce yourself when you enter the room -- even if you are introduced by an assistant.  it helps you take the space you need to perform.

4. before going in, imagine that you already booked the part!  use that great feeling to help ease your nerves and come from a place of enjoyment and excitement.

5. don't analyze the other people in the waiting room.  don't be rude, but don't assume that they are better/more attractive/a better fit for the role.  it's easy to do and totally pointless.

6. no matter what happened to you beforehand, don't make excuses or complain about things to the casting director as you enter the room.  at a recent audition i had, a young actor was called into the room and in a rage spent a good five minutes bad-mouthing the poor security guard who was doing her job keeping the studio safe.  he came across as a total prick to everyone involved.

7. also practical: if you're asked to be seated during the audition, sit on the edge of your seat or find a way to stay alive and energized.  vary your seated position (as appropriate).

8.  imagine your whole being radiating with light.  walk around a little like this.  enter the room radiating, ready -- not to impress anyone -- but to own the role as only you can.

that's all i got, more soon, i'm sure!  if you can't wait, check out my post "40 audition adages amin learned the hard way (so you don't have to)."

as we approach the start of rehearsal for balm in gilead, my castmate joseph o'malley brought these startling philip-lorca dicorcia photographs to my attention.  we both play hustlers, and these images provide a fascinating look into that world.  see more here.

i found myself feeling a little lost and wanting something to believe in, so i stopped by occupy la.  it was a curious trip.  i can't say it was as inspiring as i wanted it to be (especially given my intense connection to the arab spring), but the sense of solidarity and hope was wonderful.  here are some of my favroite photos from the visit:

1. being alive in the room is more important than being word-perfect.  breathe.

2. be yourself as fully as possible.  there's always someone better at being who you pretend to be.

3. book the room, not the job.

4. if it scares you, do it.

5. relationships over sales.  always.

6. choose real over funny.

7. honor your instincts.

8. don't think. do.

9. failure is the artist's greatest gift.

10. over-preparation has the same results as under-preparation.

11. be as serious about rest as you are about work.

12. always follow-up, always stay in-touch.

13. you have no idea how successful your read was.  stop trying to assess it.

14. tenacity is king (or queen).

15. fear is really excitement disguised.

16. respect everyone and demand respect.

17. seek discomfort.  thrive in it.

18.  trust yourself.

19. get on with it!  pacing can be everything.

20.  you're a genius! or: you're hopeless!  regardless, let go of control.  (thanks, andrei belgrader!)

21. always take curiosity over certainty.

22. don't relinquish your power.  this industry wouldn't exist without actors.

23. be prepared for anything.

24. support your fellow actors.  you're not really competing...

25. for fuck's sake, have fun!

26. don't go for what "you think they want."  you know best.  trust your craft.

27. you're not an "aspiring" actor.  you're an actor actor.

28. be early.  always.

29. don't flake.  prove the stereotype wrong!

30. auditioning is a process, not an event.

31. follow what you want, not what others want or what you think you should want.

32. branch out.  be new.

33. you're in this for the long-haul and you're not going anywhere any time soon.

34. take matters into your own hands.  no one will make this career happen for you.

35. don't pre-plan moments.  moments will come out of trusting the present.

36. don't try to be different.  your uniqueness speaks for itself.

37. there can be a lot of waiting, bring a book and/or a snack.

38. after your ride home, forget the whole thing.

39. read parking signs!

40. listen to what you're told.  casting and session directors want you to succeed.

as double falsehood moves into tech (crazy!), i thought i'd share some of the images that i've been working with for my shepherd character -- who is essentially the physical comedy bit of the play.  the costume designer and i have agreed that the shepherd will be a sort of hobo-clown, in the vein of laurel and hardy (or waiting for godot).  the dynamic between the master shepherd and my shepherd character seems like a precursor to those comedic pairings (the smart one and the dumb one, the fat one and the skinny one, etc.).  here's some of my visual research -- from actual shepherds in the 1950s to the antics of laurel and hardy to the iconic religious allegories of "good" shepherds:

recently, i've been asked to partake in some very physical acting situations, ones that involve stamina and violence.  in double falsehood, one of my characters (gerald) is a henchman of sorts.  the role involves: whipping out a gun, twisting a guy's arm, jabbing him with my elbow, restraining a girl, and then threatening another.  in the music video i shot last weekend, i had to kill a spikey-haired punk with a sock filled with rocks, while waving the sock above my head, and sprinting at full speed.  on top of that fun, two roles i've been courting in the past few months are characters that aspire to be boxers.  it's strange that all this physical brutality has found me all of a sudden -- i am, as a person, very gentle and a shameless pacifist.  i think being direct, and dealing with violence and anger are my biggest challenges as an actor.  how funny then that my first jobs out of school have required me to confront these challenges!

i remember the very first class of my first year in grad school was a combat class with the awesome fight teacher edgar landa.  it was fun at first, but it became clear pretty quickly that i -- in my lanky, gentle glory -- had to work many times harder than some of my classmates to sell the fight choreography.  something about my physicality and personality made me shy away from my own agression and made me seem flimsy and coy while in combat.  edgar called me out on this and i worked my ass off (literally) only to be told i still had a long way to go.  after that, i never really had to use much combat in my work and i kind of let it go.

but now, i've come across this struggle again and it's forced me to explore new parts of myself -- parts i'm not naturally inclined to explore.  by allowing myself to live in my own agression and to struggle with my limitations, i've actually been able to shape my character into something rather extraordinary.  as i've dealt with unleashing my anger, i've found the dynamic of the character: gerald has become an angry, bitter servant who is so addicted to violence that he's always itching to get his fix.  so when his master unleashes him, he's in total bliss.  i've been lucky to have the guidance of our awesome fight choreographer t.j. marchbank to help me pinpoint what physically and acting-wise i need to improve my "bad-assery."  it's been a great learning experience and a great exercise in awareness.  i've realized that, i need to work on my body-mind connection, so that i am aware of what my body is doing in a holistic way.  when i throw a punch, for example, how does my body (aside from just my fist) contribute to the punch?  mentally, how do i overcome the fear of hurting someone or the fear of messing up the move?  to go a step further, how to i become ok with the idea of being agressive and not liked or un-likeable?  how can i connect with a pure feeling of hate and an animal burst of violence?

i had an extraordinary experience while working another fight (for yet another character in double falsehood).  in the fight, i play a clownish shepherd that gets suspended in mid-air and choked.  the move involves one a big jump.  when i was learning the move, i kept falling.  when i was asked to jump, i'd think i was jumping, but i wouldn't actually be able to make it up.  it was very weird.  t.j. then pointed out that i wasn't actually jumping at all.  how weird, i thought, my mind (for fear or something) tricked me into thinking i was making a leap, when i actually wasn't!  when i challenged myself to make the leap, it was exhilerating and the move came very easily.  i think that's a great metaphor.  how we do we allow ourselves to risk discomfort and take a leap into growth or change?  when are we fooling ourselves that we're leaping when really we are not?  change is messy -- even if it's a change from being on the ground to flying in the air.  but change is necessary, how do we embrace it when it can feel so miserable?

this exploration will be a life-long dialogue for me.  on a practical level, i've decided to start taking lessons as a boxer.  this is something that i'd never have thought i'd do before.  people who know me think it's bizarre.  but it's time for me to face the things that are holding me back.  i'm excited to see where this leads and i'm grateful that life has given me the opportunity to look one of my weaknesses straight in the eye and to confront it.  pow!  take that, weakness!

i had a busy, but blissful weekend.  i shot an industrial on saturday and a music video for the brit punk band gallows on sunday and monday (at the lovely pollution studios).  i had such a blast on set!  if i had any doubt that this is what i want to pour my life into (which i didn't), this weekend destroyed those doubts.  i feel emboldened to be "amin el gamal" as fully as i can.

the industrial was entitled something like "harassment: sex, race, religion, and beyond."  yuuup, one of those! basically the 45 page script explored every possible form of harassment in order presumably to prevent it.  i played a north-african immigrant named fawzi who gets harrased at work.  his co-workers rag on his accent and mercilessly mock his name.  the great irony is that everyone on set thought my real name was "gamal" (i have no idea why).  when i corrected the pa over email, it was ignored.  when i corrected people on set they were confused.  at first, people thought i was crashing the set!  then of course, i got "ah-min," "amir," etc. all weekend.  in the high pressure environment of a film set, i decided to ignore this.  yeah, i guess it's an unusual name, and i don't want to waste time correcting 50 people working on a strict time limit.  (another irony: i was mercilessly hit on by a seedy extra who kept saying suggestive things about my lips -- ahhh!  harassment!).

the name issue came up again on the next set and i ignored it.  there's a bit of a history here: when i first appeared on imdb a few years ago it read something like "amine el gamin."  when i won my first best actor award at the nor cal film festival, i got the award in the mail as "gamal ek amin."  when my very famous, very academically lauded chair of the stanford drama dept (who i knew quite well) called my name for graduation she read it (uncertain pause) "ah-min."

then of course, there's those people who think i'm saying "i'm ian" when i say "amin" and insist on calling me ian.  and the amateur comedians who ask, "but are you a mean person?" or "i meaann..."  never heard any of those before!  and perhaps i'll get a lovely comparison to idi (which is just nasty).  but i grin a bear it...

but the grin and bearing is over.  if i learned anything from the "harassment" experience is that, yes, botching up someone's name has a tangible effect on their productivity, their mental well-being, and their ability to connect with others.  how jarring is it to be called by a name or nickname you have no attachment to or control over?!  there's a lot in a name.

so, i've decided to make a brief explanation of my name (with some help from the international phonetic alphabet).  my first name is amin, pronounced "ə-min" (uh-meen).  amin is related to "amen" (though not pronounced that way!).  in arabic it means "the honest one."  i've been told it means something similar in hebrew and hindi.  my last name is el gamal, pronounced "ɛl" and "gəmɒl" (which is how i pronounce it, though it's not exactly how it's pronounced in arabic).  el means "the" -- it's an article.  it's not my middle name.  my middle name is not "the."  gamal means "camel."  yes, my name is "honest the camel."  which i think is petty frickin' sweet.  think about it... my trade (acting) requires a degree of honesty or truth at its core.  the camel part, to be honest, seems to reflect not only my egyptian heritage, but also the peculiar body type my father's family has passed to me: lanky, large-lipped, and perhaps with an occasional slouch/hump... and a deadpan sort of humor.  it's true!  every name has an etymology.  even the most bland seeming names.  look yours up!

while working in the office at talent-to-go, part of my internship is to pitch classes to agents.  "hi it's amin at talent to go" i would say.  "wait... who?" they'd reply.  it made my job kinda difficult.  so, i decided for the sake of experiment to change my name to "john" for the purposes of making these calls.  instantly, people thought i was someone they knew named "john" or they would connect with name and say it more often during the conversation.  the pitches were so much more pleasant and easy -- i'd be called "sweetie" and "hun!"  so, there is a degree of privilege in a name.  mine is rather great, but also polarizing.  it either engages or it confuses.  that said, i can only do the "john" calls for so long before i feel sick, like a thin film of what i am, like a none-entity, a betrayal of myself and my family.  i am an honest camel after all...

naturally, since i've been interested in acting my whole life, i've jokingly entertained the idea of changing my name, but never really considered it.  it's who i am.  it represents my family and my history.  why would an actor want to give that up?  it's all about authenticity to me and everything about me is in the fabric of that name: amin el gamal... the honest camel.

one of my three characters in double falsehood is henriquez's right-hand man gerald.  his main function in the play is to do henriquez' dirty work: letting down woman, discarding them, and possibly beating people up.  henriquez is a spoiled second-born prince with an undying hunger for sexual domination and control -- in the play he rapes violante and completely fucks-over julio.  after trying a few different ways of playing gerald, i decided that he is completely complicit with henriquez' wrong-doings.  they're members of the same gang, so to speak.  gerald is odious, cold, and very loyal -- he's lower-born than henriquez and is always down for sloppy seconds.  in this vein, i've looked for some iconic images to help shape my entry into this scummy young man.  since the play is being set in the 50s, i started with images of teen greaser gangs.  here is my favorite:

so i've been told countless times that the audition is not soley about the reading portion of the meeting -- that it also has to do with your persoanlity in "the room."  i never really believed this.  i thought, "we're not here to socialize, if my acting is brilliant, then i'm golden!"  and this is not an uncommon belief for young, talented actors.  david warshofsky, one of my teachers and a wonderful actor (most recently in miranda july's the future), told us that when he finished his mfa from nyu, he assumed that his sheer talent alone would get him jobs, that he'd blow people away with his reads and that he didn't have to build any kind of relationship with the people who operated the gates.  he laughed in retrospect at how completely untrue that belief was.  i'm glad he shared this with us; for me, it's only hitting home like 2 years later!

i had an audition for a harassment training video (uh-huh), in which i play a f.o.b. arab busboy who get's harassed for his accent and foreign name (oh the accents i'm asked to do!).  it was like three lines.  super easy.  of course, being who i am, i went as deeply into the situation as possible.  i let myself get really hurt by my scene partner.  i mean, come on, with a name like "amin el gamal" it was kinda close to home.  so yeah, i got into it, it was fine.  after the reading, the cd gave me a look and said "umm you can smile now."  i guess i was still caught in the moment of being harassed.  is this admirable, that i was so "in it?"  or was it just uncomfortable?

at another recent callback, this one for a play, i was asked to do a very physical scene in which i was bullied by three larger guys and ultimately jumped.  again, i was totally in it, again it wasn't foreign territory (i was a chubby little outsider myself once upon a time).  at the end i was out of breath and a little shaken.  the director kept asking me if "i was ok."  "i was just acting!" i said.  i really was ok, but apparently i didn't snap out of it enough to make "the room" comfortable.  though it was a successful callback ultimately, it cuased me to pause for a second: am i still making my work more about me "proving i am a good actor" than about the story?

i don't know what i'm positing here, but perhaps the ability to shift out of the experience when it's clearly over is something to consider practicing.  of course you want to live in the scene as fully as possible, but once it's over, it's over.  as i've heard a million times and chosen not to really hear: the audition, as well as assessing your look and some skill, is to see if you will be easy/fun to work with on set.  too much warming-up or prep freaks producers out, and while they want to be impressed with you, they don't want to have to help you out of some kind of emotional state.  it's really stupid, in my opinion, but true.  relationships first, business/work second.  always make it about serving the story and always focus out (thanks andrei).  when it's less about you trying to prove something, it makes your life so much easier and your work so much more interesting! 

and there's no reason to throw yourself so extremely into an audition -- as passionate as you are about working, it won't necessarily help serve the given circumstances.  tell the actual story, not the story of how badly you want the job.  how many times have we seen bad acting, really passionately done?  how uncomfortable/sad is it?  it's like sheer desperation oozing out with a bit fear and a tinge of mania.  as shakespeare advises:  "for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say,  the whirlwind of [your] passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness."

i'm nearing the end of table work for double falsehood -- the play newly attributed to shakespeare and john fletcher.  i have the exciting challenge of playing three very different, smaller characters: gerald (a servant), a citizen, and a slightly dim-witted shepherd.  it's possible this is the first time these characters have ever graced a stage on the west coast -- how cool is that?!  as i begin the process, i'm making very broad choices, just to clarify one character from the other.  on a practical, story-telling level i need to find the distinct actions upon which these characters operate in the plot of the play.  the text is very plot-device heavy -- less lyrical and more reliant on "what-happens-next" -- so this becomes especially important.

our director has indicated that she's setting the show in rural iowa circa the 1950s.  given the movement of the play, this makes a lot of sense.  the story bounces from the suburban to the urban to the completely hick.  also, the themes of young, rash love and honor seem weirdly 1950s greaser teen territory.

after i figure out my main actions in relation to the story, i'll begin investigating more physical traits, history, stats, inner life, etc.  i'm learning a rural, mid-western dialect for the shepherd.  i've found some great stuff from the international dialects of english archive (idea) and some links from vasta.  though these often dialect samples that are skewed towards college-educated/actorly people (as opposed to less self-conscious or neutralized "regular" people), there are a few great ones.  this sample from kansas and this one from illinois are priceless!

before i get too detailed though, i'm making sure i know what story i'm telling and what my role is in the telling of this story at large.  so right now, i'm cross-referencing the full text with our slightly cut version, to see what insights it may hold.  i'll be tracking my progress here, so come back soon for regular updates!

so yesterday, after a whopping three days of rehearsal, we performed two shows of midsummer.  i decided since i was barely off-book, that i'd take the experience as a big exercise.  i tend to over-prepare and that has sometimes hindered me in performance.  with this show, i had a chance to throw caution to the wind and just go through the play with hardly any pre-planning.

i want to say that the experience was liberating and that i "harvested" the moments for all they were worth.  this wasn't really the case.  i was fine -- i fulfilled what needed to be fulfilled to tell the story, but that was about it.  i was pleased that all the text came out more or less intact and that it was definitely heard in the large, noisy, ocean-side park (i am so effing loud).

i've learend from comparing this summer's show with my work in twelfth night, that "over-preparation" and "under-preparation" look really similar.  they're both produce a certain on-stage deadliness.  as with anything, the trick is to find a balance between the work and the present.  somewhere between thinking of what your lines are to mindlessly repeating them by rote, there is a middle ground where you can fearlessly ride the wave of the action as it happens.

i've been reading mamet's true false and he goes on quite a bit about how the function of the actor is only to tell the story and "please" the audience.  actors tend to beat themselves up when they don't feel their performance was as "good" as it could be, and mamet claims that the success of the performance has nothing to do with an experience of the actor. 

from this, i am reminded that certian roles have certain requirements that other roles don't have in order to tell the story at hand.  my last shakespeare experience, playing malvolio, asked that i run the emotional gamut, that i lose my mind in love, that i connect to the audience, that i get crushed, that i play the meanie, etc.  oberon is more of an emcee -- more direct and more stable.  oberon gives commands, devises plots, and lays out the backbone to facilitate the situation comedy of midsummer (the very comedy i was allowed to play with malvolio).  for me, the quirky, emotionally frayed malvolio made me feel more, and allowed me to flex by abilities more fully.  but, theatre is about telling a story, not about flexing abilities.  and i find that the concept of the "showcase" is a death-wish for theatre.

so, yeah.  one character wasn't as fun to play as the other -- i didn't feel as good playing one as i did the other.  but, that doesn't mean that i failed or was "bad."  not all roles are created equally, and once the i remembered that my chief job is to tell the story, it became really easy to liberate myself from the self-pity, pettiness, and the self-criticism that are all too rampant in our profession.  why feel bad?  why not play the action, trust your creativity, and actually take the notes you are given?  i'd like to challenge all my colleagues to trim the rubbish from their minds: to do more to/for others and think less about themselves.  make it about the story and the action, not about your worth as a person or performer or your hungry ego.  theatre is playing, and it's such a joy, so why feel bad?

what i've learned from this madcap week (and it's only tuesday!) is that i cannot focus on more than one project at the same time.  multi-tasking is secretly a form of self-sabotage: you feel really busy, but you don't really fully accomplish anything. 

my mind has been distracted with my over-commitments and the results have been kinda sad: i totally spaced on a shift at work, my car died twice, my phone was stolen, and my sleep is sporadic.  worst of all, i feel my acting work has also suffered with the lack of focus.  as a function of worrying about scheduling work around rehearsals for two shows, learning lines, auditioning, and working my internship, my body has totally shut down. 

i slept something like 13 hours last night and my head feels a little more clear.  the biggest lesson i've learned is that i don't have to be busy all the time.  if i don't really want to do a show or if i even feel "eh" about it, i should say no.  quality over quantity.  at the same time as an anti-flake actor, once i've committed, i'm on board no matter what.

that said, i was sort of roped into this truly ridiculous production of midsummer while i'm already working on double falsehood and preparing for a callback with the ensemble studio theatre (a company that's been a the top of my wish list).  i should have put my foot down and said no to midsummer: i'm not getting paid much if anything, there is a serious commute, and i actually will be losing money because of the work i'll be missing!  this reminds me a concept that dallas travers, my career coach, taught me: only have three or less goals at a time, and only put your effort towards those goals.  don't accept less than what you want and ignore all the distractions that have nothing to do with your goals!

this i feel is a very common early-career actor problem.  you hear so many "nos," that when there is an opportunity you say "yes" before you consider if it's even somehting you want.  lesson learned.  now, to the challenge of always staying positive and doing good work when you'd rather be anywhere else... and learning these dastardly oberon lines!  i guess mastering that makes you a pro, right?

today was my first midsummer rehearsal with the company.  it was in bixby park, which unfortunately was infested with an all-day, full-on contemporary christain band service; a bounce house; a gaggle of skater boys; and a number of human-sized hamster wheels.  it was impossible to hear each other on the pee-stained stage.  competing with the lord's music (just steps away from the stage) was a losing battle.  we had one seemingly interested audience member, a kindly homeless lady -- but it turned out she just needed to charge her smart phone on the park's stage.  smart phone?  homeless?  yes.

in terms of the work, i felt really stuck.  screaming out lines that i didn't know while trying to navigate the space for the first time was less than ideal.  i think i will need to have a day of constant line drilling and some quick character work.  if i find a physical life to oberon, it will be easier to play with the king/fairy dynamic (on one hand a commanding force of nature and on the other, a mischievious "fairy").  what helped loosen me up for malvolio many months ago was observing and adopting a real person's walk.  it's a quick way to make a sketch of a character when there's not much time.  you start with the walk and the rest sort of falls into place with a little help from the imagination.  i'll let you know what i find!

so, yeahhh, we got 6 days til opening and i go into my very first reheasal tomorrow.  yep, shit is getting real.  cynthia and i rehearsed via skype this morning, which was a sort of post-something experience: mouthing off verse into a laptop makes you feel like some sort of arcane cyberstalker.  i learned two priceless things: 1. i have a tendancy to relinquish my power as an actor by being over-zealous and perhaps too emotive at times.  oberon needs some cool, some machismo or else he becomes wooden.  i think i can achieve this by playing more with my tactics and being clear on my actions.  the intimacy of the built-in computer cam magnified the work in an interesting, sort of alarming way -- like seeing your pores in a magnified mirror.  it will be a total 180 from performing it in a large out-door space, but not a bad place to begin, i suppose.  2.  i in no way know my lines!

it is certainly not ideal to have to drill the text into my memory by rote -- i'd prefer lounging in it luxuriously, trying it out in different arenas of my life, dreaming it, breathing it, etc. over time.  but, with our schedule, i'll have to trust that i'll be able to snap into the telling of the story without too much pre-production work... it's scary, but i think i can do it.  i think it's a great exercise to help me be less precious about my process and to force me to deal with the present -- at all costs.