Fear and the Career

By Jennifer Harder

I first started acting at the age of three as the cow in Jack and the Beanstalk–my one line was “moo”–and the ensuing decades where I’ve continued to throw myself onstage have rewarded me with insight, adventure, joy, pain, embarrassment, a little money, a modicum of infamy, and even an IT Award (playing a chicken with the lines–and I’m paraphrasing here–“Bawk, cluck, cluck.”) I’ve been at this calling for over thirty years and have made it a career for over twenty; though I’ve only really enjoyed it for the past 3 or 4 because I’ve begun to realize that it’s not really my work that defines me or even which discipline I choose to perform that defines my career; a career is an extension of me: my appetites, fantasies, questions, and fears. The more I run toward the ideas that scare me, the more satisfying my experiences are.

The most unhappy, unproductive times in my life were when I was afraid to change. I had begun to grow away from my day job, theater company, marriage, and hobbies but was so scared of the unknown that I stayed. And stagnated. And was miserable. The catalyst that sparked an avalanche of unavoidable change was when I refused a role. I believe my exact words were, “I can fuck a pig blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back. I want to play an SAT tutor instead,” (wtf is it with barnyard animals??) and thereafter I lost all the stability I thought was keeping my life running. But I soon stopped crying, looked up, and noticed that I was still very much alive. No job, company, partner, home, or routine, but totally alive and no longer paralyzed in unhappy places.

Thus began an era of Yes; any ideas I wanted to try I said yes. Everything inside me would yell No–and assorted other bullshit like “you’re not talented/young/attractive/connected/likeable/strong enough!”–but I would do the work anyway. I have lots of desires and weird little notions and I began to say yes to all of them even though those nasty fears kept screaming gross things like, “Jack of all trades, master of nothing,” and “you’re going to starve” and “no one will like you.” I had an innate knowledge that facing the fears could be the only option because I’d tried obeying them for so long and had found that tactic to be…quite literally depressing.

So I began to play music, write, speak, model, audition, dance, produce, sing, host, book, joke, edit, coach, etc. etc. etc. and….some of it sucked and some of it was brilliant. One time all my props, costume, (and almost my mind) broke in the middle of an act. I cried (alone) but didn’t give up. A few months later, my friends exited the theater yawning. I frowned and went back to work. Still months later, I had people approaching me saying they had never seen anything like it before and were thoroughly entertained to the point of wanting more. Oh, it felt so good.

Six years ago my dad made a speech and ended it by saying that “Jenny flips life upside down and shakes it to see what will fall out of its pockets,” and at the time my response was “psshaw” (or a variation on that theme) because I knew I was half-assing it; skimping on the shakes for sake of validation or permission or assurance or something that I know now will never be given to me. I’ve since stepped up the shaking and the “yes”ing and the risk taking and am happier than I ever thought possible. Facing the unknown has made me a better actor by one million percent and given me such confidence and surprising opportunities. I’ve danced both on and backstage with rock ’n roll royalty; provided the soundtrack for an illegal speakeasy inside of a water tower in Chelsea; screamed my lungs out to a crowd of a dozen or so thousand people in the south of France; strutted onstage wearing nothing but high heels and a smile in Brooklyn; entertained a plaza of ridiculously happy children in Bogota, Colombia; played for drunken revelers on a pirate ship in the NY harbor; and through it all have confronted fears and doubts because therein lies the unique, the enthralling, and the new.

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Jennifer Harder first started acting with the Flint Youth Theatre in Michigan. She received a BFA from NYU Tisch School of the Arts, where she studied at Lee Strasberg Institute and with faculty of Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland and has worked with companies including chashama, 29th St. Rep, Target Margin, Les Freres Corbusier, and on tour to the Capital, Dublin, and Montréal Fringe Festivals as well as the Ibero-American Theater Festival. Jennifer was a founding member of theater company The Management and received a NY Innovative Theater Award for Outstanding Actress in a Featured Role for their production of MilkMilkLemonade. When not acting, she can be found playing trumpet with Hungry March Band and Balthrop, Alabama. She has toured and performed with pirate band Skull Buggery, clown band The Maestrosities, gypsy punks Gogol Bordello, and in her vaudeville act Bathtub Jen and the Henchmen. Jenny is also the host of radio show "Blonde Thunder Presents", available as a podcast on iTunes. www.jenniferharder.com

On the Importance of a Feminist Community

By Ashley Jacobson

My whole life, I’ve been surrounded by strong, powerful and generous women. My mother, my sisters, my friends, my teachers, and even my bosses have all been strong, self-sufficient and badass women. I have always had a strong sense of sisterhood/community and been encouraged to view my own womanhood as a source of strength. As a child, it never occurred to me that anyone would ever expect anything less than me because of my girl-ness.

Now, as an adult, I don’t take for granted this community because it has fortified me against an unrelenting and sexist reality. Because of the strength these women instilled in me as a girl - the moments of degradation, objectification and reduction can be just that–moments. I can be fearless when I need to be–because the world that I have built for myself is safe and unabashedly feminist.


The American Play at the Steve & Marie Sgouros Theatre.
Photo by Melissa Balan. 2015.

When I had my first success as a playwright with THE AMERICAN PLAY, it infuriated me how differently I was treated because I was a woman, because the show was produced by women, but it dared to talk about men, and masculinity and sexual violence. The show was cut-throat and disturbing and even though bloggers and audiences alike seemed to love it, they would still come up to me and say “YOU did that? But it’s so sophisticated….” People seemed offended that I was the writer–that they couldn’t look at me and predict what kind of artist I would be. “How did THAT come out of that pretty little head of yours?” (a direct quote). Their incredulity was insulting, but I knew I was still very lucky to have my voice out there. I still had the privilege of producing my own work in such a visible way that people HAD to respond to it.

So I turned to that strong sense of community to help deal with this insipid sexism, and that's when my best friend and co-producer/co-badass Elizabeth Sarkady and I founded THE DIRTY BLONDES (TDB)–an unapologetic theater company intent on producing more works of theater that stir passionate responses, and more importantly, works that will hopefully bring new and underestimated voices to the table.

What started as a revenge project has blossomed, for me, into a compelling life’s mission to build this theater company that will not only continue to engage and progress my most favorite art form (theater), but could also be a transformative opportunity and community for other daring and unapologetic artists. This personal mission is fueled by a stubborn naiveté, a childish “you’ll see!” that I possess because of the strength and courage of all the women in my life and the community that I was blessed with from birth. That is why representation is so important, visibility is so important, supporting others when you have the opportunity to is so important.

The Miracle Play at The Secret Theater.
Photo by Ashley Lauren Hamilton. 2013.

Now, The Dirty Blondes is in its fifth season, and we had our first Off-Broadway premiere last year. We have created an identity as a company as bad-ass and dark and surprising. There are so many artists out there making work that no one thinks they are capable of. As a writer, I want to create jarring and aggressive works of theater, and as a Producer with TDB, I want to empower artists to make the work that people will say ‘how did YOU do that?’



                       
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Ashley Jacobson is a Brooklyn-based playwright. A graduate of The New School, her plays have been produced at off-off Broadway theaters across New York City, including a sold-out run as part of the 2015 FringeNYC, and off-Broadway at the Soho Playhouse as part of the Fringe Encore Series. In 2015 she received the Overall Excellence in Playwriting Award from FringeNYC for The American Play. She is a co-founder and Artistic Director for THE DIRTY BLONDES, a feminist theater company "with a taste for provocation." Now going into its fifth year, The Dirty Blondes have produced more than 15 live events and have featured the work of more than 180 artists. To learn more about The Dirty Blondes and to work with us, please visit http://www.thedirtyblondes.org/.

Lessons from Both Sides of the Tech Table

Contributed by Morgan Zipf-Meister

 As an actor/lighting designer, I feel like I spend an inordinate amount of time in Tech and/or preparing for Tech.  Some people thrive during that caffeine fueled stretch of time; it fills others with existential dread.  Depending on my role in any given production I've had both of those reactions.  But now with 15 years of Indie Theater under my belt, I’ve learned to appreciate and respect the Tech process.  As both a performer and technician, this is my arsenal of thoughts that stay with me from load-in until final dress and help get me through unscathed (along with my wrench and a roll of gaff tape.) 

Bonedive Scrounger  Photo by Ken Stein

Theater is not an exact science
No matter how well prepared you are going in, no matter if you've accounted for every detail, things will change during Tech.  Doesn't matter whether you’re an actor, a designer, director, or stage manager - something you thought was going to work one way will need to be changed entirely.  So just be ok with that.  Be flexible and . . .

You'll probably like your new choice more than what you planned
Some of my favorite moments from shows that I've worked on have been the result of changes that happened when planned moments crashed and burned.  Creative, elegant, and simple solutions will often present themselves in times when it feels like the walls are closing in and you've get minutes to make it out alive.  Don't be afraid of that.  That being said . . .    
Panic is your enemy

Execution Day  Photo by Ken Meister

Yes, opening night may be in a few hours and the paint is still wet and q's are still being written and that one cast member STILL doesn't know their lines.  Maybe all of your scenes are with that person.  Christ, maybe you are that person.  But panic doesn't help anyone.  Energy spent panicking is better spent actually working on the things you're worried about. So, pull yourself together, make a plan, and execute what you can with calm and grace.  But no matter what . . .

 
There will come a time when you want to punch another member of your team in the face
That's normal, but don't do it.  It won't accomplish anything.  Everyone is stressed out and running on fumes.  And honestly the worker's comp paperwork takes a long time and I'm sure you have other things you could be working on.

Seriously, you have to eat
Coffee and cigarettes are not food.  I don't care how much work is left.  Taking a break to eat a real meal is always worth it, because humans need food for life.  Fact. 

Bake for people... or something
I bake.  That's my thing.  It's not my job to do that - but there are lots of little tasks during tech that aren't any one's person job.  If you're going to the deli - see if anyone wants anything.  If you find yourself with a few extra moments - pick up a paintbrush or fold programs. These little acts of kindness benefit the show.   Because . . .

  Greencard Wedding  Photos by Kacey Stamats

It isn't all about you
Every show you work on, a specific group of artists were brought together because of what they bring to the table.  Tech is about the PRODUCTION, which is bigger than any one element.  So yes, bring up your concerns - if you're an actor who is uncomfortable in your costume, or a director who hates the gel color, don't sit on that information.  But also give your teammates the benefit of the doubt.  Something that isn't working for you could be a very key element in another way you're unaware of.  Work together to solve problems, and remember the whole is more than a sum of its parts.

It is possible to have fun
For me, there is nothing like seeing a moment come together during Tech, no matter what side of the table I'm on. It might just be the lack of sleep, but people drop their walls.  You get to know them as artists, and friends.  The thrill of watching many visions come together to tell one singular story, that's why I do theater.  What's more fun than that?  And lastly . . .

The Temple  Photo by Michael Markham

No matter what goes wrong, it could always be worse
I've been locked out of the theater when I'm supposed to be hanging lights.  I've written entire shows only to come in the next day to find that nothing actually recorded.  I've had to leave the state to deal with family issues.  I was stage managing a show during the 2003 blackout - and the entire cast was on route to the theater for final dress when the city lost power.  And even so, I will never be naive enough to believe I've seen the worst that can happen during Tech.  Because let's face it -this shit is unpredictable. 

After all, Theater is not an exact science.  


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Morgan Zipf-Meister is an actress, director, IT Award nominated lighting designer, and general theater mensch depending on the day of the week. She is a native of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, but has found an artistic home in the New York Indie Theater scene. Over the years she has worked with companies such as Dreamscape, Piper McKenzie, Old Kent Road, Gemini Collisonworks, Boomerang, and Theatre of the Expendable among others.  Recent projects include directing and acting in 'Greencard Wedding' in the Detroit Fringe and at Dixon Place, as well as performing as the resident villain of Mildred Springs in It's Getting Tired Mildred, a monthly soap opera for the stage at the Brick Theater.  www.morganzipfmeister.com

 

Art Feeds the Soul

Contributed by Jeanne Travis

I was a stage manager long before I was a sound designer; a director and actor long before I was a stage manager and a flautist and composer before I can remember. I have been very fortunate enough to find or attract multifaceted people. I love to work with artists who are easily bored, take risks, make mistakes, collaborate, work hard and are generous.   

If I had known early on in my life what opportunities there were to fuse both music and theater into a career I wouldn’t have had to wage war with myself for the many years that I tried to pick one or the other. If you are born to be an artist you must pursue what you're wired to do. Living anything else is living a lie. Picking music over theater to me was like asking me which leg I could live without. I wish that I would have never tried to believe that I had to choose. Artists think on a level that cannot be measured. They invent, ponder, create, imagine, edit, summarize, synthesize, store and evaluate information with all fives senses. I once directed two horror Grand Guignol plays from their original 1890s texts. I felt amplified. “This is what I want to do for the rest of my life” an actor told me in rehearsal. It was from this experience that I started to look at art from a completely new perspective which would eventually lead me to design. I also realized from this experience that the greatest reward an artist can ever hope for is to inspire others to create.

  “Most people live to create.  An artist creates
     in order to live, because art feeds the soul.”
                                                                   ~ My Mom

To me, creating art is like coming home. I like to be around my kind! I was so incredibly fortunate and humbled to accept the IT Award for sound design last year for Nat Cassidy’s The Temple, or Lebensraum. I just remember that I didn’t want to let anyone down; especially Nat. Everyone involved was so incredibly multi-talented. Above all, we were all amped and called to inspire one another and I have never felt so much support on a daily basis on a show before. I love independent theater. You meet the best people. I believe that in order to be successful artist you have to be a generous, kind, and wonderful person because from this centeredness flows a spring that the soul feeds on in order to create. Off and Off-Off-Broadway attracts like minded artists that thrive in this community.

I forget how extremely exposed sound is sometimes. It takes a fearless ambition to be a sound designer. To shout an idea, literally at high volume, takes guts. It is also a sound designer’s job to seduce you into a state of total unawareness that we are ever there. This allusion intrigues me and it challenges me. I have been very fortunate to work with playwrights who know how to wield sound design to their advantage. To be able to offer a playwright the assurance that their imagination should not be hindered by any limits in sound is the ultimate reason why I do what I do.

I have just started to play the flute again. I doubt that I will ever step foot into a costume ever again or have the strength to ever direct again. However, I am easily bored, I take risks, I make mistakes, I work hard and I'm generous. It's what I'm wired to do. Who knows what will happen next?
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Jeanne Travis is a composer, sound designer, stage manager and flautist. She composes daily and plays the flute at Judson Memorial Church. Sound Design credits include: Utility (The Amoralists Theater Company), The Temple, or Lebensraum (Tin Drum Productions), Woyzeck (No Win), Leave Me Green (Form Theatricals), Asymmetric (59E59), Frankenstein Upstairs, The Honeycomb Trilogy: Advance Man, Blast Radius, Sovereign (Gideon Productions), Rantoul and Die, Enter at Forrest Lawn (The Amoralists), Luft Gangster (Nylon Fusion). Stage Management credits include: Six Rounds of Vengeance, Untitled Vampire Cowboys Project, Alice in Slasherland (Vampire Cowboys), Final Analysis (Pershing Square Signature Center), Spectral Scriabin (Lincoln Center), Sir Patient Fancy, As You Like It, The Wonder (The Queen's Company). Special credits: Retro Productions Company Member since 2008. With Retro: The Tender Trap, The Desk Set, Holy Days, Dear Ruth, Benefactors, The Runner Stumbles, A Day in the Life of Joe Egg. Awards: WINNER 2015 New York Innovative Theater Award for Outstanding Sound Design: The Temple, or Lebensraum (Tin Drum Productions). Upcoming Projects: PSM: Thoa's Library (All For One) and SD: Universal Robots (Gideon Productions).

Writing to Be Seen

By Pia Wilson

In America, playwrights write to be read. I don’t know if we were taught to do that, or if that’s just the nature of the business here. There are so few opportunities to get a play up on its feet and explore the work that we don’t just build our plays for the boards anymore.

I recently heard back from a theater in London, and long story short, they couldn’t visualize how some things would work in my play. They wanted to put it up on its feet for a day, in a workshop. Just to see how it moved. But I’m an American (happily so), and they have a tiny theater in London, and neither of us could afford to have me come out for just a day or two. Just to see how the play moved.

I write plays to be seen.

And thank goodness for the people in my career who have seen something while reading my work. I’m grateful for the people who have fought to get my work on the stage, who have come to writers meetings and listened to pages and passed things along. Otherwise, I would have given up this impossible career quite a while ago. I would have eventually become that old lady who goes up to the young playwright after their show and says, “I was a playwright too, once.”

I write plays to be seen. So I don’t become invisible.

Because I’ve been lucky in my career, I had people I could reach out to in New York, to tell them about the lost opportunity in London, to see if they could give me a similar opportunity in New York.

You know how the story went. I was asked to apply for this or that. I was offered table reads.

Can we move the table out of the room?

I don’t know. Maybe, if I were a high-profile writer, I would have gotten that opportunity with no questions asked. Maybe if I’d asked different people. But, you know, strangers in London wanted to do it, so I thought not-strangers in New York might want to as well. Not just read but see. I forgot how we do things here.

I remain hopeful, though. Each time I see one of my friends achieve something, I think I can do it, too. I’ve just got to figure out the alchemy of it all. Maybe start applying to things more – or at all. Maybe write for the readers. Maybe.


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Pia Wilson is a 2015 Sundance fellow, and a recipient of the 2014 Sarah Verdone Writing Award. She is a 2012-2013 resident with the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council's Workspace program, a member of the 2008 Emerging Writers Group at The Public Theater, and a 2009 playwriting fellow with the New Jersey State Council on the Arts. Her drama TURNING THE GLASS AROUND was produced by Workspace Collective in October 2014. GENERATION T, was produced at Adelphi University in March 2014. Her play, THE FLOWER THIEF, was an August 2012 co-production between Horse Trade Theater Group and The Fire This Time play festival. www.piawilson.com | Twitter & Instagram: @pwilson720

Methods of an Addicted Costume Designer

Contributed by Viviane Galloway

The other day I went to the website of an OOB theater company that had received a tremendous amount of press for a recent production. Being a fellow costume designer, I wanted to see who had designed the costumes for this production. It didn't surprise me that none of the posted reviews of the production mentioned any of the design elements—set, lighting, props, costumes, sound--but it shocked me that nowhere on that website did the theater company itself mention who had designed their productions. There were plenty of beautiful production photos and headshots of every actor, but it was as if the designers didn't exist or were of little consequence to the ultimate success of the production!
 
 
Now, I happen to know that this particular theater company actually thinks very highly of its design team. But it occurred to me that if this oversight could be made by a theater company itself, that there may be a lot of people, both in the audience and working in theater, who are not quite sure what we designers really do. Because space is so expensive and so scarce in this city, we don't have the experience of seeing each other every day at the theater. I can't run up from my costume shop to pop into rehearsal. I talk to the Stage Manager mostly by email. It takes me longer to bond and earn the trust of the actors. The irony is that although I love what I do because of the community, I actually spend a large portion of the process on my own. So, what exactly do I do? Well, let me tell you. . .

I spend a LOT of time on research. Just living in New York is research! Every day I walk by amazing architecture, see new art and the latest fashions, commute through culturally diverse neighborhoods. You see pretty much everything in New York if you keep your eyes open. In addition we have all the museums, the Historic Society, and the largest library system I've ever used. I usually bombard my director with a plethora of images from all these sources and more. With an average production schedule of four weeks, things are usually moving too fast for me to do renderings, but I'll sketch things out, or I develop a look-book for each character (especially if I will be shopping for costumes and can't be sure I'll find exactly the same thing as what I may have sketched.) I read the play a lot. I read it out loud for myself, I make notes, I close my eyes and go through different scenes in my head. At rehearsals I talk to the actors about their characters, and observe their style—how physically active are they? Are they connecting with their costumes or feeling constrained by them? I love to bounce ideas off the actors when I can—if they are excited about my design then I know I'm on the right track.

I am a whiz now at planning my production schedule around major holidays. Many of the big thrift stores have sales on those days. Also, when I shop I keep my eye out for the colored tag that is discounted that day. I'm fun to travel with: “Yes, I'd love to go to Rhode Island with you this weekend, if you don't mind stopping at all the thrift stores in that area.” Most indie-theater companies don't have the luxury of keeping a lot of (or any) costumes, but I have a storage unit, which allows me to hoard costumes. So I usually spend a day or two going through my own stock.

And I spend a lot of time just building costumes and pulling everything together in my studio at home. Construction, alterations, trim. . . this usually all happens in a matter of days. I lug everything to rehearsal, do fittings, watch rehearsal if I can, and then I take everything back home and do more alterations, add more trim, and on a rare occasion, start all over!

Given the fast pace, tight budgets, and crazy logistical issues involved with independent theater, life can get stressful. Every time I design a show, at some point—usually about a week before First Dress—I go into my husband's office in tears, and I say . . . “I'll never finish. . .” “I'm too old for this. . . .” “Don’t ever let me do this ever again. . . “He makes the appropriate sympathetic and encouraging remarks, but I swear that when I leave to go back into my studio I hear him chuckling. He seemed startled the first and second time I did this, but after a while he has learned that soon I'll be on that high again from seeing my costumes on the stage, seeing how they work with the set and the lighting and hearing from the actors how they feel in them. Then the show goes up and I find out if my costumes really tell the story that I wanted them to tell.

That is why I do it, because my art is my voice, my way of telling a story, of expressing myself and how I feel about a particular issue or situation. The fact that I get to do this within an amazing community of artists, and the opportunity to collaborate with so many really talented artists and make lasting friendships, makes it all worthwhile.----------------------------------------------------------

Viviane Galloway is a New York based costume designer. Her credits include Pygmalion and Mother Courage (Jean Cocteau Rep.); Mrs. California , Dear Ruth, The Baltimore Waltz and The Butter and Egg Man (Retro Productions); and The Tempest, Happy End, The Cradle Will Rock, Candide and A Little Night Music (Theater 2020). Viviane has been nominated for the New York Innovative Theatre Awards for Outstanding Costume Design for The Desk Set (Retro Productions, 2010) and A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Theater 2020, 2013). Viviane also frequently designs at The 52nd St. Project, a program that works with kids to create original productions, and would encourage all of you to get involved as well!!! www.costumegal.nyc