After the curtain comes down

A year ago tonight my play Becoming Calvin opened in Washington, D.C.  It was a thrilling evening! And I had worked so hard to make it all happen. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that I fund-raised, directed, and produced this play as a labor of love.

The play had been commissioned in 2008 for a series of readings in 2009 to commemorate the 500th anniversary of the birth of John Calvin. Those readings went so well that I dared to dream of a production. There is an active professional theatre scene in Washington, but I was not already affiliated with a theatre group, did not have an agent, and thought I might as well just go ahead and do it myself. You know, find a barn and put on a show. Isn't that what show-biz (not to mention start-up) spirit is all about? Anyway, fundraising was grueling but not impossible, thanks to the 501(c)3 of the commissioning organization. I applied for a dozen grants and got a small one. I had some incredibly generous benefactors. And I was blessed with performers willing to work for the lowest scale the union allows. And a brilliant set designer who created magic out of a hat on a shoestring budget. And one friend who designed the music as a favor, another who ran the box office so she could be part of the magic of theatre. And a husband who did double-duty as House Manager, Company Treasurer (and my greatest cheerleader).

The production went off without a hitch. Indeed, audiences were surprised, some astounded. We played to overflowing houses two nights. Attendance at the other seven performances was respectable. I made a small profit, after all was said and done, which I paid myself for the hundreds of hours I had put into the project as producer/director. My plan was to take a breather, let the dust settle, put my communications consulting business back on the front burner, and a)market Becoming Calvin, and b)start the next play in my planned trilogy about John Calvin and his legacy.

One year later I have ditched the idea of historical play #2, and decided that contemporary play #3 will have a largely female cast, a unit set, and a running time under two hours. I have been doing market research, you see, as I have been shopping my script around.

It is good I have had some kind of positive outcome from this exercise! Though I do remain hopeful, I have found that the mere fact that you have written a good, solid play that takes an "original, refreshing" look at one of history's most important figures is not enough. As is often the case, the art I created will die in obscurity without the right combination of connections, luck, drive, unlimited time and energy to pushpushpush for its survival. Theatres that claim to be committed to bringing new works to audiences, it turn out, want new works by established playwrights. Universities have their every-other-year "new works" slots filled for the next five years, even if they were interested in a costume drama ("no thanks, but good luck!"). And on and on.... 

I am not alone in this. Many playwrights I know are singing the same song. I am determined to find a way to get this play in front of an audience again. And I will. But it takes time, and I am swimming in uncharted waters.

As a country we do not support individual artists, and many worthy arts organizations go under for lack of funding. The prevailing feeling is that the arts must support themselves. But while I am supporting my artistic self by spending time on my business, the art gets short shrift. Any efforts I make to market my play must by definition be part time and slapdash. The world of a working artist, believe me, is not like what you see in TV and the movies. We don't just wait tables/bartend till The Big Star discovers us noodling around on the bar's piano (see Smash, season 2). No one I know has had a moment of discovery by someone who can "put your name in lights." It is a hard slog. 

So next time any artist buddies of yours complain, be supportive. Do not make them feel they aren't doing enough to get their art published/exhibited/performed. And for goodness sake do not suggest that the quality of the art is to blame. Those of us who struggle for a foothold know all too well that a lot of lesser-quality work manages to find its way to the marketplace, so obviously that's not it. Art World is a place where being excellent is sometimes not even a qualification. You have to be at the right place, at the right time when someone who has money and/or connections decides to lend you a hand. It is the way our country has prioritized pretty much everything: those at the top are staying at the top, and it is getting harder and harder to join them.

BUT -- someone will find a way to out of this conundrum. Eventually, we creative types can pretty much figure anything out!

Let's hear it for Labor!

Labor Day is here again, and for many of us that marks the end of summer, though here in Virginia we expect the weather to be hazy, hot, and humid for a while longer. But this day is about more than the end of "official" summer (a.k.a. fun relaxing time) and the return to our regularly scheduled programming. Labor Day is the day set aside to officially celebrate the working men and women who made our country what it is. Today, as you dive into the pool, or serve up burgers from the grill, take a minute to celebrate Labor on our 119th Labor Day!

I am an entrepreneur with my own business, as well as a card-carrying union member: Actors' Equity Association  (100 years strong)  SAG-AFTRA (born from a merger 17 months ago), and SEIU. So I have a unique perspective on worker's rights. I know some unions have been riddled with graft and corruption in the past, but so has just about every other entity in modern times: business, government, religion... I won't supply links here because I would be doing internet searches all day. I am sure you can think of your own favorite institutional scandals. The fact of the matter is unions protect workers. Few can argue with that--though I keep crossing paths with people who try. But once you throw in a few facts and personal stories, those argument wither.

A year ago I was "management" as a producer of my play, Becoming Calvin, here in D.C. Many people told me what I already knew: I could cut my budget significantly if I hired non-union actors. But the play was my baby, so I wanted to make sure she was cared for by the best. I spent a disproportionately large part of my budget hiring the right people, and I was glad I did! Sure, non-union talent might have been available for longer rehearsal hours, but the professionals I hired showed up on time and always completely prepared to work. There may be a surfeit of talented actors and stage managers out there, but the ones who have worked hard enough to obtain their union cards really are worth it. Every penny you pay them, every dollar you put into the union pension fund, every form you have to fill out. Professionals. You get what you pay for!

And I wold be remiss on this Labor Day if I did not tip my hat to SEIU, which now covers my employment as Adjunct Professorial Lecturer at American University. Thanks to the recently ratified collective bargaining agreement with AU, I will now be paid a higher "terminal degree" rate that recognizes my academic rank as a Master of Fine Arts. The non-arts department I am teaching for had a hard time figuring it out, ("How can you be terminal? You're not a Ph.D!") but the SEIU agreement was pretty clear. I am sure without that backup I would be teaching for whatever rate the department deemed sufficient.

Go Labor!

Music to the eyes . . .?

Chia-Jung Tsay at the piano

"Social judgments are made on the basis of both visual and auditory information, with consequential implications for our decisions." Thus begins the abstract for "Sight over sound in the judgment of music performance" by Chia-Jung Tsay, published last month in the journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States Of America. Maybe you heard Shankar Vedantam's NPR story about Tsay's findings on Morning Edition this week. 

I am fascinated by this research, because Tsay came to it in a very personal way. A child piano prodigy, she spent years on the piano competition circuit. She is a graduate of The Julliard School and Peabody Conservatory, and holds not one but two Harvard Ph.D.s--in Organizational Behavior and Psychology and in Music. Somewhere along the way she noticed that her competition scores were better when the judges saw her play, rather than when they just heard her. Something about the experience of watching her was influencing their judgement. 

I am sure the musician was delighted with those good scores, but the psychologist in her thought this was something worth looking into. So she designed a study in which volunteer judges, amateur and professional musicians, compared competition performances in a  variety of formats: silent videos, videos with sound, and audio-only recordings.  

"What was surprising was that even though most people will say sound matters the most, it turned out that it was only in the silent videos, the videos without any sound, that participants were able to identify the actual winners," Tsay says. Which raises an interesting question: if this visual component matters this much in musical competition--where the overwhelming focus is on sound--how much more does it matter in other situations?

For those who might say that this is just an example of the "attractiveness bias," Tsay looked at the data to make sure these judgements weren't just about good looks. She says, "I wouldn't necessarily say that this is indicative of superficial judgment... There is something about visual information that is better able to convey cues such as passion or involvement or creativity. These elements are very much a part of high-quality performance."  

Passion or involvement or creativity. Also a huge part of presence. I spend a lot of time working with clients on defining and projecting their presence. Many bandy that word about, but don't really know what it means. Confidence, yes, but also active engagement with your audience, as well as your content--whether it is a Beethoven sonata, a stump speech or talking points for the staff meeting. You need to be energized by what you do, even as you are doing it, and connect to it deeply. Tsay's study shows that the winners are those who clearly communicate that energy and connection. 

And even though we do not yet competitively score keynote speeches or networking events, remember Tsay's conclusion next time you want to turn in your best performance. 

Where voice reigns supreme

I just came back from a fantastic new movie. If In a World...  is playing in a theatre near you, go! It's very cleverly written (winning Best Screenplay at Sundance) and directed by the talented Lake Bell. A blend of romcom and family dramedy, it is a funny and heart-warming film. But voice coaches like me and our clients will appreciate it on a different level: it offers a glimpse of the actual work that produces those rich, compelling tones we hear in movie trailers and on TV. In homage to the late, great Don LaFontaine, we also see the payoff that comes when you can make your sound convey so much more that words alone do.

This movie shines a spotlight on the little known, but very important corner of the world inhabited by unseen, ubiquitous voice artists. As the Big Producer played by Geena Davis says to our heroine Carol Soloman (also played brilliantly by Ms. Bell), what these people do is important, because "voice is power."

I won't spoil the movie for you by giving away the ending, but as I walked out of the theatre minutes ago I felt tremendously validated. It shows people who make their living from making sound as they ply their craft--doing so much more than just reading what is in front of them. Most people are unaware, but it takes work to get your sound "in shape." Vocal exercises are just a part of what I do with clients and students, but they are a foundational building block. Speaking is a physical activity, and your speaking technique depends on your ability to have a powerful voice. This, in turn, is made by discovering and strengthening your own powerful sound. And that sound depends on a variety of factors, only some of which you can control. So you better believe you need to exercise control over the ones you can!

Most of my clients come to me because they have realized that to get from where they are to where they want to be they need to step up their vocal and speaking game. And that means learning new skills, and yes, making funny faces and silly sounds. But it is all worth it, because in the end they have new techniques to integrate into their everyday speaking. And a more powerful sound.

But don't take my word for it: go see Lake Bell's very funny movie! And be thankful you are not trying to make a living in the hyper-competitive world of movie trailer voice-overs.

When Faith speaks...

I was thrilled to hear Susan Stamberg's interview on NPR yesterday morning with artist Faith Ringgold. I have long admired Ringgold's art. One of my kid's favorite childhood books was Tar Beach , based on her famous story quilt of the same name. I have successfully used that book, with its

Faith Ringgold, portrait by Grace Matthews

magical story and gorgeous illustrations, as a jumping-off point for many elementary school drama workshops over the years. Every child wants to fly over the city like Cassie Louise--doing it in the classroom, though, takes some imagination!

Ringgold tells Stamberg that she started out as a landscape painter in the '60's, but was persuaded by a gallery owner to use her art to reflect the social upheaval and violence of that time. (Her work from the late 1960's is on exhibit now at the National Museum of Women in the Arts in Washington, D.C.) But her canvasses showed "Too damn much," she says. When she finally started putting her art on quilts, and adding narrative structure, she hit on something special that audiences responded to, and it was not just their comfort level with the medium. "I think it had a lot to do that it was a familiar medium and people liked stories. They like them. Yes. I think I had struck on a combination of imagery and politics that worked and people said OK."

It is true that we understand the world through story--I even blogged about it, see The Power of Story. And story can also be a balm. In Rx Storytelling I discuss the importance of connectional narrative.

But Ringgold relates story to scope and organization. Her paintings were more abstract, open to interpretation, showing us what the artist saw and felt, but not letting the viewer discover the truth for her/himself. "And I think that it had something to do with the fact that paintings people really don't understand. They don't understand how big - they don't really get paintings-" Ringgold reached some big conclusions in her paintings, and her audience didn't always get there with her, because they were coming in at the end of the story. In her quilts, she can make statements that are every bit as bold and provocative, but the viewer/audience has joined on the journey, and so understands.

I think this is a useful image for us to keep in mind whenever we speak. Because we always have a greater chance of reaching understanding when we make sure our conversation partners have heard the whole narrative arc. We do forget, though. But thinking of Ringgold and her "quilt epiphany" might help each of us remember that no one can read our mind: we must express ourselves, however imperfectly, with the tools we have at hand.

What I learned on Mr. Jefferson's mountain

Last week I took a trip back in time and visited Thomas Jefferson's magnificent mountaintop home, Monticello. During a lovely tour of the house I become viscerally aware of Jefferson's great appetite for learning as I passed through his collection of books, art and artifacts. Here lived a man who adapted the best of everything he ever saw to his "retirement" home in Virginia. The downstairs "dependencies" --which would be out-buildings at other plantations--demonstrate, perhaps even more clearly, his genius at synthesizing what he learned in his travels. The multi-burner cooktop that his cooks used to make a variety of French sauces was amazing!

But one other thing that jumped out at me: in all the signage around Monticello, in the stories told by all three of our tour guides (in the house, on the grounds and gardens, around the plantation community) "slaves" were referred to as ''enslaved persons." A quick look at the Monticello website, as well as that of the website accompanying the Smithsonian exhibit "Slavery at Jefferson's Monticello: Paradox of Liberty" shows few remaining references to "slaves." That demeaning term has mostly been replaced with the more accurate "enslaved men, women and children," or "the enslaved butler," etc.

And just like that there is a perceptual shift. The words change and something in our minds changes. We become more aware of the fact that these were people--fundamentally like all of us touring the grounds on a 93 degree day in July, 2013. But when they were forced into slavery, they became enslaved people. An adjective, not a noun.

Thomas Jefferson would have appreciated this, I think. He knew the power of words. Indeed, he requested that his gravestone refer not to what offices he held, what territories he purchased, even to what state capitols he designed. He wanted to be remembered as a writer and a lifelong learner:

Here was buried
Thomas Jefferson
Author of the Declaration of American Independence
of the Statute of Virginia for religious freedom
Father of the University of Virginia

Words--what they teach us, where they lead us--can shift our perspective and change the world. We would do well to respect their power.

What's in a name?

I am sure by now you have heard of KTVU anchorwoman who read false names of the Asiana Flight 214 crew that crashed in San Francisco. In case you haven't, here is a complete retelling of the story thus far, complete with video. I was forewarned when I first saw the video on Friday night, as my Twitter feed indicated the names were "phonetically offensive." Who wouldn't be curious to see what that meant? The names are definitely offensive. As we now know, they were confirmed by an NTSB intern. It is unclear where they originated.

After I saw the video and picked my jaw up off the floor, I made a mental note to remind all my clients how important it is to practice all the words you will be saying in a speech event, but especially foreign names. Usually this is because they might be hard to pronounce, but it is also a good idea (as it would have been here) to make sure you are not saying something you shouldn't.  I have read that the anchorwoman in this case did not have time to read the names over beforehand because it was breaking news, and the names just appeared on her teleprompter. But whoever got the names and put them on the prompter should have had a clue that the station was being pranked. And now KTVU may be facing legal action. If only someone somewhere had read them out loud (which you would think is de rigueur for a medium that transmits content by reading it out loud) all this could have been avoided. I am imagining the "Really?!... with Seth and Amy" sketch now.

This incident reminded me of a story told to me by a client long ago. She was slated to give welcoming remarks at a charity event celebrating many generous donors, of whom a disproportionate number were aging male business leaders accompanied by glittering younger women. Though she meant to compliment them on their philanthropy, I believe she said it was good to "see so many philanderers here tonight." Oops!

The lesson is that if you know you are going to be saying a word you do not normally say, that may be a bit of a stretch -- like "philanthropy"-- you need to say it overandoverandover so that it slides off the tongue anytime you begin a word with "philan...." Anything less than thorough preparation can leave you saying something you most definitely do not want to say.  Just knowing the word in your head is not enough. You have to get it in your muscle memory, so that when you are in the spotlight, you don't slip into something that might come more naturally (but less appropriately).

And if you are ever on air reading up-to-the-minute-breaking news, make sure whoever puts the words up on your teleprompter has actually said them, for cryin' out loud!