I recently coached a smart, young actor on a monologue from a play. (Yes, Zoom Acting Classes are happening!) He’s just starting out, but seems to have quite an aptitude for the work we are doing. We approached the work with a list of questions: Who are you? Where are you? Where are you coming from experientially? (You can see these questions in context, in section one, “Objectives”, of my acting text on this site. Open the scroll, Coaching: Acting and Writing; and click on, Acting Text.) These questions have become part of my routine when working with new students, and are questions I return to myself when I’m acting, but as you will discover, the questions can become innate. It is important to keep these ideas simple, so that they can (how do I put this?) easily fit in your head. Especially important is this idea, when exploring different objectives (intentions, or wants). Acting is a moving meditation. If you have any kind of meditation practice, this will be clear to you. If you haven’t tried meditation, I highly suggest it as a tool in general life, but also as a tool for acting. There are at least two kinds of meditation. One, is the guided meditation, where you have someone talking through a series of ideas, slogans, mantras. The other is the non-guided, where you allow thoughts to come and go, freely. You acknowledge the thought as it crosses your mind, notice it, see it or hear it, but then let it leave your mind as quickly as it arrived. All kinds of thoughts will come and go through your mind as you are acting, some about what’s next, what was just said, a new thought, or discovery; some thoughts will have nothing to do with the play. Your ego may start whispering awful things to you, or maybe some personal dilemma will cross your mind. All of these things, pertaining to the play or not, should come and go with each breath, like a moving meditation. New thoughts will find their way in, when you learn to be always letting go. This is a good way to insure that a performance becomes layered and stays spontaneous. Staying present and in the moment with a meditation practice, will keep you from simply repeating what you did the night before.

Just coached a talented young actor (or actress, depending on how you feel about labels!) This time it was sides from a play, instead of a monologue. In the play, the character just had a strange experience and sits down to tell her friend about it. Once we figured out what had just happened previous to the scene beginning, we became a little fixated on that backstory. But, really what’s going on in a scene is, just that—What’s going on in the scene. Meaning, what is presently happening. Is the scene about this thing that just happened? Is it about how she is left feeling about it? Maybe, a little. But, what it’s really about, is who she’s talking to, and what their relationship is. Where are they? What are they doing in the moment? So, much of the backstory—the experience that got her to this point—is written in the lines. No work needed there! But, what’s going on in the moment, is where some choices need to be made. I like putting this question to my students: Are you running away from the bear, or running to the cabin door? Running from the bear, is about the past and can sometimes have a negative weight to it. Running to the cabin door, is forward thinking, and a positive choice. Think about it. Once you get to that cabin, you’ve got a fireplace and lots of pillows and whatever else comforts you. So in this scene, this student actress was able to talk about this strange thing that just happened, in a relaxed, comfortable way. She was present and connecting with her friend. And as we took a couple more goes, and did some pattern breaking exercises, she became younger and more playful, which were both appropriate for the character, and even more appropriate it really felt like she was sitting on her bed in her dorm-room talking to her roomie!

I did a coaching recently where the actor had an audition to play a real person. He had not received the sides yet, so we worked on a bit of an interview that this real person did. Conflict is essential to any play or screenplay, so of course it follows that an audition piece should have conflict in it. Not every interview has conflict in it. Many times, the interviewer has respect for their subject and wants to get the best out of them. Occasionally, there is friction. (Get your hands on some interviews with Edward Albee. It’s like he’s two different people depending on who is interviewing him. If he likes the interviewer his answers are professional and clear and easily relatable and even applicable as advice. If he doesn’t like the interviewer his answers are absolutely mystical. He suggests that his characters speak through him and he’s just the messenger, which means he can avoid answering the questions altogether, and I believe Albee got a kick out making the interviewer squirm.) An interview without a conflict, however will not make for a good audition piece. Don’t get too caught up in mimicking the real person. I’m sure at the end of the day the casting directors do want to see what you’ve got there, but an imitation will only get you so far if you can’t show them that you have acting chops too. So, if you’ve got an hour of interview footage, look for where the interviewer is playing devil’s advocate, or bringing up someone’s criticism of the person. There should be something in there that can be used. Then work backward from that point a minute or two. That should give you something to use. In other words, fashion a monologue out of the interview that leads to a conflict, so that we see the character going through something, needing to defend himself, or using any number of tactics to deflect or combat what’s coming his way.

When working on a scene or monologue for an audition (with or without a coach) look out for those transitions. If each beat is a new way of talking about a subject, or if a beat is a completely new subject, between the beats are transitions.
Let’s say there are two kinds of transitions: Fast and slow.
In most cases transitions should be as quick as possible. I recently worked with an actor on a monologue. We recognized that the character was smart, and eventually agreed that he was very, very smart. We noticed the faster the transitions, the smarter he seemed. And since the character’s objective was to attract the person he was talking to, the smarter he looked the more enticing he became.
If there is a situation where you feel a transition needs to be longer, where the character is contemplative, perhaps deciding what to do or say next, that transition needs to be filled – alive, even if it’s only with thought. As a matter of fact, all it takes is the thinking. Indicating the thought is unnecessary and will cheapen the work. Think the thought; don’t act it.  
All that said, you should always default to the quick transition, just as you should default to taking out all of the pauses. Coincidently (or maybe not) those pauses that your director is always harping on are often in the transitions. Always be working to get the air out of your transitions. Assume your character is at least as smart as you are. Think (don’t indicate the thinking) and think fast.
When looking for a monologue to work on, find one that changes throughout and will show different energies, with a couple of beats and therefore a couple of transitions. I’ve seen a lot of auditions where the energy is all the same. I only see one color – one thing that the actor can do. And then I’m not so sure they can do anything else. Often, a monologue is in a play to make a specific point and that means there may only be one energy. It can be a challenge finding the right one. Dig. Break everything down into beats and see if you can apply different tactics to each beat. Different tactics, equals different energies, equals a good monologue to work with.

I recently had a chance to coach an actor on a monologue for a reading of my new play, One More Time with Malice. Often an actor will want to make the most dramatic choice, especially in an argument. But, if you think about it, when we get into an argument, we often look for the first opportunity to get out of it. Okay – to articulate our opinion and then to get out of it. Perhaps this is the way we should approach arguments in plays, even when it’s a diatribe of a monologue. Sometimes the reason we get into this biz, is because we are drawn to drama. Hopefully, as we develop our craft, we develop an appreciation of nuance, the subtle, the not-so-obvious. In an argument in a play, every line can be thought of as getting-in-the-last-word; as if the subtext was “So there!” And then, suddenly you have to add more. And, more! But, you don’t have to actually yell, or build, or get angrier, or more frustrated to get your point across. Let the words do the work. I may have used this before, but: You don’t need to bring sand to the beach! Meaning: You don’t need to bring an argumentative tone to an argument. See what it’s like to play it, staying on the ground floor. Meaning: don’t escalate, or get louder, or more argumentative. Then, if you absolutely can’t help yourself, if something really snaps inside you, then and only then, let that emotion come out. Or, not! Stuff it! That’s what most people do in real life! If you’re about two thirds or three quarters through the play, maybe that’s the time to lose it, but before that, I would recommend stuffing the feelings. (Not good life advice, but good acting advice!) A problem comes up often in this new play of mine. The characters are siblings that haven’t seen each other in a while. The trap is regressing to childish bickering. That can be grating. Why not say all the crappy things that the script supplies, but say it as calmly and maturely as possible? Doing this will actually create much more complex characters and relationships and tension. Avoid the argument. Try to get out of it. Play the most positive choice you can. Don’t judge your character. Play the character as maturely as possible.

For info on my new play, go to ONE MORE TIME WITH MALICE

When I coach someone on a monologue or an audition, it helps a lot that I’m a playwright. (Actually, I’ve been away a little while, because I just got accepted to Tina Howe’s MFA program, and that inspired me to start a new play.) So, I know where the words come from. And, I know how hard they were to come by. Remember, that when working in live theatre you’re working in a playwright driven medium. Only in film are you working in a director driven medium, where the words can be fudged, played around with or thought of as just an outline. In the theatre you need to be word perfect. This should be helpful when working on your monologue. It’s like following a road map or learning music. The words will tell you where to go, or how to sing the song. If your running over a certain word or phrase because you’re not sure exactly what it means, take the time to investigate. With the internet, there’s no excuse. Pop the phrase into the search bar and see what comes up. If it sounds like a regionalism, ask around - post it on facebook! Also, there are certain playwrights like Sam Shepherd and David Mamet that are all over their publishers to make sure that their plays are printed exactly how they wrote them. It’s becoming more and more the thing. In the past it was more likely that the published play would have new stage directions and accents that were put in by a stage manager during the rehearsal for the first production. Today, if you see an accented word, it means that playwright wrote that word to be accented. A perfect example is, “Glengarry Glen Ross”. Go ahead and just rattle through a passage in that play and punch up or even shout the words that are accented. You’re going to give yourself a really good start by doing that. You’re going to get a really strong idea of what Mamet intended and how the character talks. The words are your map. Follow that map. And, memorize that monologue painful perfect!

When starting a monologue, whatever emotion you may be having is absolutely appropriate.

Quickly check in and acknowledge what you’re feeling. Try this a few minutes before starting. It may go something like this: “I’m feeling kind of nervous right now. Okay, I can see why my character may be nervous. He hasn’t seen his friend in twenty years!” You may notice that once you acknowledge you’re emotion it may shift. Check in again. “Letting myself have my emotions is empowering! Wow! Now, I’m feeling excited!” However, nine out of ten actors are riddled with self doubt. (Sorry.) So, check in one more time. “I’m gonna screw up anyway. Damn! Now, I’m nervous again.” If that’s how you’re feeling, then that’s how you’re character is feeling.

Often the main concern that comes up is that if you start your monologue with a different emotion, each time you do it, it will affect the performance, the objective and everything that you had worked on in rehearsal. To dispel this fear I’d like to present the following explanation which was developed with a friend and colleague of mine who is a linguist: (Come up with your own situation and draw a parallel to a monologue you're working on.)

The Givens
1) Who are you?
-I am a temporary office worker.
2) Where are you?
-Every week I’m assigned to a different location, however, each office is so similar they might as well be the same place.

Background
1) Where are you coming from experientially?
-I finally got up the nerve to quit my restaurant job.

Objective
1) What do you want?
-I want to make enough money to supplement my income so that I can pursue my career in the theatre.
-I want solvency.

Now ask yourself this: Does it matter what emotion you're having at the start of this work day scenario in order to go after your objective? Or, more to the point, does it matter what emotion you're having at the start of your monologue?

If you're working on changing your emotion to what you think is "right" for the monologue, you're working on the wrong thing. There are plenty of things to work on. Don't even mess with the emotions. Have the emotions, yes! Feel them deeply. But, don't ever that think what your feeling is wrong. Empower yourself by believing that whatever you are feeling is exactly how the character is feeling and is completely appropriate for the monologue. Don't deny what you really feel!

So, now.... I'd love to hear from you. What do you think about this ideology? do you think you might play with it in an audition? Please, write some comments below.

As a Monologue Coach, I often hear actors say that they weren’t in the right place when they began their monologue. Meaning, that what they were feeling was inappropriate for the emotional reality of the character. This kind of thinking can make it very difficult to get started and often be the one thing the actor thinks about throughout the piece. Don’t deny what you are feeling. Anything you are feeling is completely appropriate to the situation your character is in.

So appropriate are your feelings that I suggest checking in with yourself before you begin. For example, I may be doing a monologue where the character is anticipating seeing a loved one that they haven’t seen in a very long time. Foolishly, I’ve made a decision that the only way the monologue will work is if I can conjure up a feeling of sheer excitement. So, I warm up the best way I know how. I jump around, smile ear to ear and laugh at myself while doing it. I think about seeing an old friend from my own life so that I can relate to the situation personally. All of this preparation worked in rehearsal, but now that I have to perform in front of people I’ve become nervous and my attempts to create a feeling of excitement and anticipation feel forced. In short, I feel like a fraud and that I’ll just look like a bad actor. Really, what I’m feeling now is scared - scared as hell that this is not going to go well at all. However, let me ask you this: Is it not appropriate to feel anxious about seeing someone you haven’t seen in a long while? Whatever emotion you may be having is absolutely appropriate.

The funny thing about an audition is, once you’ve gotten through it, unless you get the job, you don’t ever hear from them! It may have nothing to with how your audition went. You may not have been the right type. It could be cast already. Or, it may be (dare I say it!) your ability or experience. I know, ouch! Let’s say, hope and pray that it’s not that. It's one of the other many things we have NO control over, like height or some elusive energy! Yes, I know, this may not be news to many of you. But the question is, how are you dealing with it? I used to audition so much and “move on” from so fast, that at one point, I got to an audition and headed right to the bathroom. And, lost my biscuits! I may have been pushing myself, yes; I may have been legitimately sick, but it was a wake up call. I wasn’t processing all the rejection. And, this is when I was in my hay-day and working a lot!
Today, I am always seeking and cultivating a network of good, supportive friends to help me through… well, everything. It’s important to push through, yes, and believe in your own strength, bounce back, and persevere, but you also need to have your feelings. Seems really counterintuitive to cut off our feelings as actors, huh? So, it’s about finding the balance. Sometimes I need to be gentle with myself, and sometimes I need to be tough on myself. Honestly, often times, I’m pretty tough on myself. So, take it from me: letting go of rejection and having my feelings too, is a balancing act. It’s a circus trick! And, I’ve got to put a little time into being conscious of that balance everyday. Work and rest. Find ways to laugh and enjoy life. Nobody has tiger’s blood and Adonis DNA! Don’t burn yourself out. That would be a lot of wasted talent. Find the balance.

WHAT'S HIS PROBLEM?

When experimenting with different objectives, you may want to consider the objective of the other person in the scene. A playwright has chosen a place in time because of its dramatic weight. And, what makes a scene dramatic is conflict. Therefore, in most cases, your character may want the opposite of what the other character in the scene wants. Sometimes, when it’s difficult to come up with a satisfying, playable objective for your character, it may be easier to look at the other character and ask what does he/she want? Then think about what would be the opposite of that. That may be a way to discover what your objective is.

Also, think about where the scene is in the play. The closer you are to the climax of the play (2/3rds to 3/4ths of the way through) the higher the stakes should be. Try using these lead-ins before your objective/verb: I want; I need; I must have. Or: I want him to; I need him to; I must get him to… With each lead-in the stakes become progressively higher. The 1st three, I like to call selfish objectives. The 2nd three, I like to call partner-focused objectives. Play around with these and get back to me. I’d love to hear how they work for you! ]

SUCK LESS! (Can someone be irreverent, and smart and supportive at the same time?)

This is not my usual blog entry. I've been trying to indirectly share about acting issues and solutions, for beginner to advanced actors. (Advanced stuff has proven to be trickier to write about, so the blog seems to represent me as a beginner coach; I've been the “go to” person for a number of advanced working actors, so know, whoever you are: I can speak your language.)

Anyway, today I've got a marketing question for you, as I experiment with all sorts of ways of getting myself out there to you the actor! I recently, made up a postcard that suggests that working with me will make you “Suck less!” I'm quoting this really sweet woman I know, an actress; someone who you'd never expect to say something like that. It may be a little surprising out of context. But, let's see if I get any calls for coaching from those cards. Those of you that know me well will probably appreciate the sense of humor, I hope! The intention (and I guess this is where the blog really starts!) is to bring attention to a big picture issue…

With so many variables in this business that are out of our control, what can we do –how can we make things happen in our careers? (This is something I learned to consider from Gary Garrison of the Dramatists' Guild.) There's a lot of legwork to be done, whether you represent yourself or have the finest representation in the city. And, honestly, I don't have a lot of answers for you there. I've seen my share of the ups and downs. But, I do know that you have to persevere. And, it's wise to mix it up. Try different strategies occasionally. Try to be open-minded and listen to people on occasion. Trust your own instincts, but (when someone doesn't sound like they're giving advice that only they could benefit from), swallow your pride and take in people's observations from time to time. Mostly, look for and go to as many those auditions as you can. However, the thing that is more in our hands than anything, is our own craft. The monologue that you've been using: Does it serve you? How does it serve you? Could it be better? Could it be fresher? Everyone needs an outside eye to look at all the work you've been doing and say, “These are the acting choices you should focus on” or “Have you consider other acting choices?” I've coached some really fine actors and they have all benefitted from my outside eye. This is where I start to sound like a used car salesman…! Well, you know where this is going. I love doing this coaching thing. I've been doing it for years and now I'm venturing toward doing it more often. So, let's play. And, let's all ‘suck less!'

1) Break your patterns. Reconnect with what you saying by breaking you vocal patterns. There's actually two ways to do this. One, is where you explore all the different ways you can say a line and still stay true to your choices. The other, is to do it more arbitrarily. Really, just go up where you went down, speak quickly where you spoke slowly, etc. This'll shake things up, and keep you present and playing. If you've been doing a monologue for a long time or it's just hard for you to break the patterns; start early - right away.
2) Drop the accent/character voice for a go of it. Speak with your own natural voice for a go. Be your own bullshit meter here. You'll immediately connect on a personal level. You'll get a sense very quickly of where you hold your tension too.
3) Find a person in your own life that parallels the character that you're speaking to. Insert that person's name- liberally. All sorts of great stuff will be triggered. Try different, appropriate people to see what effect it has.
Don't worry about being good or right. That actually should be kept in mind always when rehearsing! Don't practice; rehearse. Re-hear, or hear it a different way. Keep it fresh!

You've been told in the past that you need to see the character that you're talking to. So, you imagine what he would look like. Hair, eyes, height... Good. So, you find that spot where he would be and you fix your eyes on it. Okay, now; let's forget acting for a minute. Ask a friend a question that you know will lead him into a long story. And, then let him talk. How much does he look at you? Probably very little. Maybe only a surprising 15% of the time! Reference this behavior when you do your monologue. But, just to be sure you're committed to the exercise, only look at your imaginary partner 10% of the time.
Where else do people look when they're talking? The environment around them? Create an environment around you then. When someone tells a story and they're thinking back and remembering images, where do they look? Notice this when your friend is talking and thinking back. Reference this behavior when you do your monologue.
Once you've created an environment, make sure you stay facile with it. Don't allow this imagined world to work against you. Use what's really there in the room too. Remember, when you walk into an audition you may be in that room for the first time. Learn to quickly marry what's really there in the audition studio with your imagined reality. A door is a door. A Window is a window. A table a table. Or, perhaps: a support beam is a tree. A piano is a boulder. A wall is a cliff.
Look at stuff.

So, you're doing your monologue for me and as I watch and listen, I ask myself, "Is he really talking? Is he really sitting? Is he really standing? Is he really walking?" You've done all your homework. And, a lot of homework it is. Your brain is filled with all these obligations. You're trying to recreate all of the discoveries you made when you worked on it by yourself. Not to mention trying to remember the damn words! So, now what? Breath and relax. Take comfort in having an outside eye. You know it's impossible to not appear a little artificial here and there. Face it: you're acting! (Hopefully not shm-acting!) How can I help? Let's see what it's like to let go of character and all of those obligations and just simply work on one thing at a time. Let's start with talking. What's it like to really talk? Maybe this is the foundation to build on.