I've met a lot of amazing people while at Tisch, Steinhardt, NYU, and New York in general. The extraordinary amount of talent that exists in these people is indescribable and I truly am grateful to know them. Some of the writers, directors, singers, designers, and actors that I've met really do have so many things to offer to the world. I guess my issues really involved some of the people I know who actively engage in the world of musical theatre, specifically.
The words "musical theatre" often imply the images of jazz hands, flaming homosexuals, and dancing cats. And yes, those things do in fact exist in musical theatre sometimes. But it can also function in ways that can lift a person up. Looking at musicals such as "Adding Machine", "Show Boat", and "Shuffling Along" demonstrate how musical theatre can truly marry the ideologies of entertainment and mental stimulation towards an ethically desired goal. And there were courageous actors and writers involved who made those productions possible. But why did they do it? Why do certain actors pursue musical theatre?
I don't know about back then, but nowadays it seems to be a near depressing conversation. I've sat in on hundreds of people auditioning for various musicals. Whenever I'm casting a show, or involved with casting a show, I get the past the fact that the person can sing a high note. But I want to know what kind of a person they are, and how they would be to work with. And I do this because I find more and more musical theatre actors wanting to be in musicals for mere self-gratification. And that self-gratification derives from the desire to belt the highest note and perform the fiercest dance combination. Don't get me wrong. Applause is great. We all love it, and everybody should be given the chance to receive applause when deserved (who knows when that is). But if applause is all that a person is aiming for, then is there any selfless aspect to that desire?
I guess narcissism is the idea I'm shooting for. The goal to show off versus contribute proves to be extremely frustrating. I'm not an entirely innocent party. There are times when I'm playing a song and I add an unnecessary ostinato pattern to prove what my hands can do on a piano. But I'll ride the high horse and say I don't do that too often. At least I try not to. There is a community of musical theatre artists in Manhattan. And many of them are lovely beautiful people. And the majority of them seem to want to prove themselves as worthy of performing.
I went to a new musical theatre writers workshop a couple months ago and there was a reception afterwards with cocktails and wine specials and whatnot. There also was an open mic stage with an accompanist ready to play any song from any musical, if you had your sheet music with you. While I was trying to talk to other writers and catch up with old friends, there were singers on stage wailing out songs that nobody was paying attention to. Ironically enough, the people who weren't paying attention to the folks on stage would later get onstage themselves and belt out their own tunes with the reciprocated disinterested response.
Musical theatre writers are not totally off the hook either. Many up and coming writers I know are on a similar construct of writing to show off how witty and catchy they can be. However, what this produces is a lot of new works all sounding relatively similar. Instead of sounding like themselves, they are sounding like each other. And these are brilliant people! So why should they be writing material that isn't indicative of who they are as individuals? That's why my heroes are the composers who write like nobody else, because they're writing from the heart, not the insecurity.
Let me emphasize a very important point: this is a pure generalization that is NOT true for many, many writers and actors. All of this speculation is derived from certain people that I've been surrounded by in recent months. I have many wonderful collaborators as directors, actors, writers, designers, composers, etc... who do not possess these qualities. However, they seem to be rare finds. And THAT is what is so disheartening. If this is my chosen field of profession, I don't want to be surrounded by people that motivate me to deliberately avoid their praise.
Theatre shouldn't be so selfish to the point where a spotlight and a standing ovation are the only sought after goals. It should be giving and welcoming to everyone and anyone who is willing to listen, watch, and experience.
(music store in Stockholm with Nippe)
So... let's get to that other point. How have I been cheering myself up about this? Quite a few things actually.
1. My piano. I've been writing a lot since I've come home. I love my baby grand piano so much. I love it when we have alone time (dirty, right?) I'm working on another show now, and the sounds we are producing together are incredible. And so much fun. Therapeutic. Clears the mind, and easily enough, the soul.
2. Recent experiences with Stephen Sondheim. I've always known the man could write a good show. I know he's highly respected by, well, everyone involved with musical theater. But it wasn't until last April when I EXPERIENCED the value this man possesses. When I saw the production of "Anyone Can Whistle" at the City Center, my eyes were opened to a whole new concept of who this man is. Stephen Sondheim is smart, and people will call him courageous without any weight to the word. But my god, "Whistle" taught me what it meant to be a courageous writer. True courage means writing something that you fully believe in with all of your heart, putting it out there for the whole world to see, and risk the endless ridicule by those who disagree. And holy hell, that show received ridicule. But I saw what he was saying. During the song "Everybody Says Don't", emotion swelled within me and it proved to me that I can do miracles just by saying "Do" (my experience with this song would take a whole other blog post, so I'll just leave it alone for now). Another very recent experience was seeing "A Little Night Music". And I had a TRUE Sondheim experience. I knew nothing of the show before I saw it, everyone told me the show is brilliant (like most of his shows). But I didn't think that immediately when the show ended. It starred the most inspirational actor alive (at least for me) and by the end of the show, I felt slightly confused. It caught me off-guard. I didn't think right away about how perfect the show was, but rather thinking more along the lines of what the show was about. And it resonated within me for days. I couldn't get the damn production out of my mind with so many questions about life, love, romance, and the cost of falling in love. And only THEN did I say to myself, "Fuck, that's a great show!" And THAT sums up Stephen Sondheim's brilliance. Intelligence, heart, and courage. Lots of courage. He who dares to do something different and specific to him.
3. Surrounding myself with people who DON'T carry the above mentioned attitudes! They exist. And they're awesome. I can't wait to work with some of them next semester. I can't wait to work with some of them after graduation. They also make amazing friends.
4. Lots of good books, tv, and movies! Just this week alone I've seen The Fighter, I Love You Phillip Morris, Black Swan, The Chronicles of Narnia (not great, but beautiful to watch), and tomorrow I'm seeing Tron in IMAX and The King's Speech. Movies can be so inspiring.
5. Drives to the beach. They make anyone feel better.
6. Overall, remembering that there are writers and actors who truly dare to do something different. Entertainment is great. Thought-provoking is delectable. Emotions are a wonder. And experience is irreplaceable. Melding them all together make for something perfect in its own extraordinary way. And there are so many people who want to make that happen.
I know this blog post looks incredibly judgmental, and let's face it, it kind of is. But I don't mean to scorn people who want praise and recognition for their work. I mean, I definitely want praise and recognition for the work that I do. Fame and glory can be wonderful things. But they're also dangerous, because they can make us forget the other aspects that prove to be more pertinent. Every profession in the world has its community of narcissism. I'm learning that now. And more importantly, I'm learning how to avoid it and still do what I have set out to do since the beginning. It's more than possible.
As I type this, my iTunes shuffle switched from Kanye to Sondheim. I'm going to take that as a good omen.
