Earle’s sons have established a face book page, “Friends of Earle Gister.” We ask you to send a brief note of appreciation or memory of Earle, along with the date you first met him. If we possibly can, I want to display your homage permanently on The Actors Center website, listing you alphabetically by year of first contact.

Earle R Gister has been my closest friend and career partner for over fifty years. I am determined to find a way to record a semblance of Earle’s legacy for his children, and I ask your support. A memorial service is planned for his birthday, March 30, 2012. Details will appear on these pages as they come clear. You will all be welcome.

To all of us who loved Earle, I send my deepest condolences,

J. Michael Miller

In this issue, we attempt to get at the marrow, the core of what we, individually and collectively are all about. On the Founder’s Page, Michael sets forth the background, the dream and the necessity of his dream for a National Theatre.

In Ongoing Concerns, he proposes a concrete plan of action for the next two years leading up to the 100th birthday of Actor’s Equity Association which might enable this dream to actually happen.

On Phil’s Page, I attempt to tackle my still (after all these years) ambivalent feelings about starting out as an actor’s manager and my considerably less ambivalent feelings about what I think of managers today.

For the Actor/Teacher section, we give you two short pieces, one from David Horak, a Canadian actor who is beginning to teach. He took the Teacher development Program last year at The Actors Center and discovered the artistry of teaching as opposed to just the paycheck of teaching and Peter Jay Fernandez who will be sharing his journal with us as he acts and teaches here in town.

Also beginning a journal in this issue is Contributing Editor Zack Fine who is beginning a six month stint touring around the country with The Acting Company. We look forward to hearing how his student dreams of being part of a repertory company compare with the reality of actually being a part of a repertory company.

We also are introducing a new Contributing Editor named Bryce Pinkham. We first met Bryce when he read a paper at the very first Congress of Actors and Acting Teachers. He spoke movingly, and with insight into his own feelings far beyond what his tender years would have led anyone to suppose a first year acting student might be able to tap, of his hopes and desires for what would become of him during the three years he was facing in the MFA Drama program at Yale. He is currently in rehearsal for “Ghost” which is opening on Broadway this spring.

Further, though this is more of a preview of coming attractions than an accomplished reality, we plan to introduce weekly columns/blogs by a number of Contributing Editors which, we hope will, bring you to our site with greater frequency and with, dare we hope, greater sense of engagement. And to facilitate that, we will have a Facebook Page. All together now: It’s About Time!!

And apropos of absolutely nothing, I am wondering if there is not hope for humanity after all. When I was a boy agent, I had a client named Anne Twomey who was in a play with Eva LeGalliene on Broadway. The play was called “To Grandmother’s House”. The great LeGalliene was grandmother. She was, at the time, 83 or 84 years old and her very ambulatory presence was considered a minor miracle. Her performance, considering her age, was thought to be beyond admirable. However, thirty years later, I must report that I have recently seen a number of astounding performances by actors in their 80’s with no allowances made for their age whatsoever. Forget admirable. These were brilliant, powerful performances by professionals I was privileged and enriched to be able to witness – far outranking most of the above average work I have seen from the generations upcoming who will be called upon to replace these giants.

Vanessa Redgrave, Lois Smith, Christopher Plummer, Rosemary Harris, Zoe Caldwell, James Earl Jones, Angela Lansbury and Alvin Epstein. These are gods and goddesses and, in a world far better than our own, it might not even be remarkable that they are all in their 80’s and the performances they have given which have entered my marrow and enhanced my life, have all been given in their current decade and all of those performances were on stage –no Winnebagos waiting in the wings for these geniuses. Is it ungallant to call attention to their age? Oh God, I hope not. I feel that the sheer mastery of their powerful talent is so much more germane to the value of life on earth for the rest of us than any lingering vanity any of them may harbor concerning their date of birth. So with that nod to what is very likely their very human vanity, I have to say that I am here to praise their Herculean gifts and offer thanks for the awe they have awakened in me and the gratitude I feel for still being around to have witnessed what they are capable of accomplishing not solely because they are all so fucking brilliant but because they are so fucking old. I bow down.

Lest you think the current political fracas has diverted our sense of purpose, I want to assure you that we at The Actors Center Journal are more concerned than ever about the future of our theatre and wish to make a concerted effort to engage you in the issues we face, as so many trained actors and so many of you, our audience member see them. In 2013, we would hope to hold a series of Congresses comprised of actors, audiences and theatre leaders across the nation in an “Actor as Artist” campaign, coinciding with the 100th anniversary of Actor’s Equity. Our promised land is a theatre that recognizes and supports the actor’s role in this society. Our common path there is to engage as many of you as possible in seeking that goal.

The issues we face are known to all and are facets of the concerns listed below. Over these next twelve months, with your help, we hope to fashion the arguments that will serve a successful 2013 campaign.

1) Theatre is a cultural necessity, a need in any society for citizens to understand their own challenges, doubts, fears, obsessions by observing surrogates/actors face issues that plague all of us. For centuries, the theatre has served as entertainment, along with music and dance, acting as both a diversion and a high art form. Theatre has also served as a political foil or was used for political challenge, subversively assisting audiences in thumbing their noses at an oppressive regime. We know the great actor/poet Moliere was buried in an unmarked grave, due to a king’s displeasure in the 17th century for just those reasons, but so were lesser known actors in New York City in the late 19th and early 20th century. Theatre may always have been a common necessity, but it was not always convenient to the political and religious wards of the state. Those strains continue in our society today.

2) Theatre will always combine elements of entertainment and high art. In current society, however, the Entertainment Industry has overwhelmed the attention of the populous. And the new media make delivery of entertainment instantly available 24/7. We cannot, nor should we, try to change Show Business on Broadway or in Hollywood. They both serve their purpose. We just need to separate our not-for-profit theatres from that industry, in practice as well as in the public mind, and re-assert the much missed original role of theatre in our society.

3) We have a bold, but doable plan for a “National Theatre” that we are going to promote in our Congresses across America in 2013. For those of you who follow this Journal, that plan was first outlined in our late spring issue of 2008. It is updated here.(See the “On Going Concerns” section of this issue.) Whether our plan for renewal of the role of the not-for-profit theatre in our society is the right one is not the issue. The issue is that we must have a plan to preserve our theatre, a national plan. Broadway, while a national icon, is a destination for tourists, and increasingly offers a Disneyland experience of American theatre. Film and television are different media and is designed to serve mass market entertainment. We need a theatre that serves the American people and a multi-layered American culture. We need a theatre that seduces, thrills and challenges us through great actors willing to experience on stage, what we dare not explore in the lives we live. We have always relied on actor/priests to go where we fear to go. Now we desperately need to find a clearly defined and dedicated place in which that can happen.

A cautionary tale: I had lunch a week ago today with Slava Dolgachev, a Russian friend and long time colleague at The Actors Center. Slava achieved lasting fame in Russia as one of the first line directors at the Moscow Art Theatre for over a decade, and was chosen to direct the crowning production of the MAT”s centennial year. He has won most of the awards one can win in Russia and was rewarded his own theatre, when his mentor at the Moscow Art Theatre , Oleg Yefremov died. After we settled on what he would do here in our June programs, I asked about the current political situation in Russia, and how that might effect his small theatre. (Mind you, it is a small house on the outskirts of Moscow, but counts nearly 100 actors in a permanent company, and has 28 plays in repertory.) He said,” Michael, it is big change. Now subsidy is based on how many seats we have, and how many seats we fill in the season. If we fall below the required percent, we lose subsidy. I said to my actors, You want to go to America? Now America comes to us. We must please audience? We have always been sold out, but now I worry everyday. One thing I am sure, most Russian people are increasingly tired of entertainment. They come to the theatre for other reasons. I must continue the same.”

May that be true for all who join us in our campaign for “Actor as Artist.” We need to re-invigorate our sense of “true north”, and hold hands as we make our way there. Surely, there will be many others crossing our path. Some will have much to contribute; some will impede the way. Please look to our “On Going Concerns” segment of this issue; tell your friends, and join hands with us in our search for that “promised land.”

Michael

On the wall just outside the door to Frank’s staggeringly impressive you-need-it-I-can-do-it-no-problem office in Lower Manhattan is an embroidered linen square with the words, Please Stop Me From Volunteering. We settled into the small conference room next to his office. The president of the firm was wearing a bespoke suit from a special shop in either Jermyn Street or heaven. I began with what was foremost on my mind.

Phil: Why The Actors Center?

Frank: I think The Actors Center provides unique and extraordinary service to the acting community. Not only does it help actors but it looks to the future to make sure there will be terrific teachers to teach actors as this profession continues. I’ve always enjoyed the notion that the theatre and acting in the theatre is an important part of the actor’s life and that it should not be forgotten. It should be helped, nurtured, treasured and in every way possible preserved for the future. With all of the technology and everything else that we’re faced with, good, authentic down to earth acting is what the art is all about.

Phil: The theatre always seems to be in danger. The fabulous invalid and all that. And now probably more than ever. It’s so hard for actors to be able to afford to work in the theatre.

Frank: Well, that’s the problem. And it would be tragic if the art were lost. You know, you think about what’s happening in so many different fields. The bull whip that was put out of business when the automobile came. Horses and carriages. The local lumber yard going out of business when Home Depot arrived. Now you start to see this music being mixed by a computer. Recording studios using more of the mixed music rather than having musicians in their recording studious. Film allows the actor many different takes and is, I think, a little less authentic than live theatre. And, God, can you imagine with Pixtel and everything else, is the actor going to be computerized?

Phil: What do you mean by “less authentic” on film?

Frank: Well, there’s nothing like live theatre. That’s where an actor has to show his stuff. I think that getting up for every performance is something that I’ve always admired about acting. I think when you’re doing movies – take one, take two – and if it’s not right – take three, take four. Too many chances. I think that a professional should be at ease with his or her craft and be able to perform live and authentically.

Phil: How did you come to The Actors Center?

Frank: We’re builders and we had the opportunity to build the very first floor at the Tisch School of the Arts at NYU. I think it was the eighth floor. Michael Miller was Associate Dean, I believe, and that’s where we met. After we completed the construction, I got to know Michael and got to know a little bit more about the theatre. Michael reintroduced himself to me many years after completing that project when he started The Actors Center.

Phil: And you got intrigued with what they were doing?

Frank: Yes. I got intrigued with the whole notion of the Master Teachers. Having these great teachers – and there aren’t many of them – teaching future Master Teachers. I was intrigued by that mission. By that desire.

Phil: You said something a few years ago which has stayed with me. We – Michael, you and I – were in a meeting with the head of Development for Downtown and the guy asked Michael to describe The Actors Center’s mission. Michael began to and you said, “Look, the whole idea of The Actors Center is that it’s pure. It’s only about the artistry. It’s very pure.” I’ve always remembered you saying that.

Frank: Pure. Authentic. It is. I think it’s unique. And to see the trustees who’ve stuck with this for so long with minimal funding. And particularly Michael to be working so long without a salary. I continue to be disappointed that the successful actors and actresses who could write a check that would make all the difference to The Actors Center and help the profession in a tremendous way haven’t done so. Some of them have. But most actors struggle. They don’t have a deep financial base. And when they do get successful, they seem to be so busy that it’s very busy for them to focus on giving back. Do you find that, Philip?

Phil: I do. And I think you are going out of your way to be understanding. I don’t know anybody busier than you are and you seem to find the time to give back. I don’t know why more successful actors don’t contribute to causes that would assure the continuation of the art form.
You must be on a bunch of Boards. How do you decide what’s going to get your attention? And your money?

Frank: Well, I think it starts with the person. I met Michael and I had enormous respect for Michael – and Sharon [Sharon Jenson, Michael’s wife] – and I just wanted to support him because I thought what he was doing with so little was so extraordinary. Look, you see my sign, Please Stop Me From Volunteering. You can’t overextend. I’ve learned one has limited resources. You can’t spread yourself too thin. You have to do what you’re good at. So my Boards – The Building Congress, The Landmarks Conservancy – that’s what I’m about. I’m a builder, a preservationist. I’m not an actor – although, in terms of some of our presentations and negotiations, you have to do a pretty good job of presenting. So I think it’s a great skill. And the reason to be involved with The Actors Center – aside from the enormous respect I have for Michael – is that the profession is so important. The excitement of a good play is unlike any other experience. You know when the crowd stands for a sincere standing ovation, it’s exciting, it’s unique. And that shouldn’t be lost. That’s another reason why I like to support The Actors Center.

Phil: Where does the theatre fit into your life?

Frank: We don’t see enough. We will go to an occasional show. I remember “Sleuth” and some of the older plays we saw. Just moving dramas. I love musicals. Richard Burton on stage. Or in “Anne of 1000 Days”. Now there’s a guy who probably didn’t have to do fifteen takes to make it happen. His performances on the stage were special. Special to culture. Special to society.

Phil: Did you take your kids a lot when they were growing up?

Frank: A little bit. Not too much. We didn’t go to the theatre enough. I was too busy just building a business.

Phil: Do you remember when you got hooked on the theatre?

Frank: Well, I can’t say that I got hooked because it’s not something I feel I have to do. It evolved. My wife, Barbara enjoyed the theatre and we went to see different musicals, dramas, that we really enjoyed. You know you remember certain things in life and a big, big, great acting performance is up there with any great experience.

Phil: Is theatre entertaining something you do for business?

Frank: If it’s good theatre. The Building Congress has a theatre night every year. This year it was “Bonnie and Clyde” and “On A Clear Day.” The head of the Building Congress felt terrible when he read the reviews of those shows and realized that’s what we were going to see. He said he didn’t think anyone could feel worse and that made me realize he’d never invested in a show.

Phil: You’ve been an angel?

Frank: We’ve invested in some bombs. “Bells Are Ringing”. I remember getting to my local newsstand early, getting my cup of coffee and reading the kind of reviews that made the “Bonnie and Clyde” and “Clear Day” reviews look great. Very, very discouraging feeling.

Phil: Tell me about “Bells Are Ringing”.

Frank: We had Faith Prince as our lead! What amazed me about the show was that I would stop by the theatre at 10:30, 11:00 o’clock at night to see it end and there would invariably be a standing ovation. Now how could there be a standing ovation after negative reviews? Faith Prince was up for a Tony award. She doesn’t get it and the show closes the next day! Even the play I invested in off-Broadway, “Dinner With Friends” which won all kinds of awards, never made any money. I thought construction was tough.

Phil: You stopped by “Bells Are Ringing” on many nights? That last number is a killer. It’s great.

Frank: Yeah! And she was good. Faith Prince was good. I’ve seen “Jersey Boys” six or seven times. Just because I love taking other people to the show and seeing them experience the music, the drama, the acting. I could see it over and over again.

Phil: You sound hooked to me. Why did you say yes to “Bells Are Ringing” and “Dinner With Friends”?

Frank: A persuasive producer. Telling me the show was going to be great. I even invested in “More To Love”. So we made some choices that didn’t work out but it was a good experience.

Phil: Did you ever make any money in the theatre?

Frank: Nope. Maybe a dollar on “Dinner With Friends.” Maybe in the theatre making money is not losing money.

Phil: Are you alone among your peers in your theatre going?

Frank: My wife Barbara loves the theatre. And John Randolph, he’s a real fan and he’s been a big help at The Actors Center. I love old movies, too. I could watch “It’s A Wonderful Life” over and over again. I hadn’t seen that until I was probably thirty-five years old and experiencing a tough year in business. What a great movie to see when you’re down. And that’s acting. If you don’t have these wonderful actors telling you these great stories…. I mean, you’d miss out on one of life’s great pleasures.
Barbara and I watch old movies quite often. My mother loves old movies. “Madam X”. She loved that one. And Million Dollar Movie. Remember that? “Yankee Doodle Dandy”? I’d see that every day of the week, twice on Saturday, and three times on Sunday.

Phil: I keeping thinking back to your question of why so many actors don’t give back. Because many who could don’t.

Frank: It’s a really good question. Because it’s so important. I don’t know. I don’t know what the answer is.

Phil: You’ve been extremely generous with your time and your thoughts. Thank you.

Frank: My pleasure.

Having been involved in the training of actors, as well as other theatre artists, for over fifty years, I know that there is a large cadre of actors, who if given the opportunity, read “a living wage, and revised producing paradigm,” could blow the lid off of our cautious approach to audiences in this era. I offer the following outline for a National Theatre, which is much like the ancient Greek system. It gathers the best actors in the country for a brief season, where the most pertinent and humanly challenging plays are presented. In this version,there would be at least three and hopefully four or five major American theatres offering this level of cultural enrichment somewhere in a major American city every day of the year. I offer it here again for your response, because we intend it to be the core of our 2013 “Actor as Artist” campaign. Let me know what you think, because a lot of other people need to know what you think.

The structure is simple:
First, establish a Board of Registry at the National Endowment, empowered to designate National Theatres and not only hold them to account for the quality of their repertory, but assist them in coordinating their seasons to serve a National Audience year around.

Second, all large not-for-profit theatres in the major cities of America would be asked to apply. Hopefully, three or four would meet qualifications within three or four years. In future years, there could be eight or ten, but they all must meet the same rigorous standards and work within the frame of coordinated regional seasons. Note: These theatres are now operating, essentially year around. The National commitment would be for four months per year; the other eight months the theatre would be free to follow current practices.

Third, each applicant theatre would be required to provide a list 10 to 12 actors who would commit to them for a five year contract for five consecutive four month seasons. This requirement is to assure the Board of Registry of the quality of the acting ensemble and their willingness to engage in a long term commitment.

Fourth, each theatre wishing to apply for National Theatre status would have to commit to providing an endowment of $30,000,000 to support the $100,000 salaries for each actor, under a five year contract, for each four month season. The designation National Theatre will not be awarded until that level of endowment for salaries is in place, ensuring that the commitment to this National effort will be ongoing.

The purpose of this proposal is to recognize the theatre as central and necessary to American culture. It seeks to set a fresh level of artistic commitment to compete with our now overwhelming Entertainment Industry. It needs to make it possible for the very best talent to be able to commit financially to a five year contract of four months per year. It needs to engage both the cities that would house them and the nation that unknowingly hungers for them in to take a stand as those Greek actors did centuries ago. I look for your support.

Michael

I get the willies when I think about it. Something did happen. Managers happened. Managers have become ubiquitous and almost taken for granted as a necessity to any career, even a young career. Stars always had managers. Now beginners have them, too. Why? Just to get noticed. Just to get seen. And, frequently, just for the promise of help in getting an agent. Think of it: 10% (sometimes 15%) just for the privilege of being able to pay an additional 10% later on. The game has changed. We are truly in Joseph Heller territory now.

The amount of work available in the theatre is pretty much what it was twenty years ago. The number of people seeking that work has easily doubled. Too many actors for too little work. The response of the business to this glut of talent had been to increase (by more than twice) the number of managers plying their wares (such as they are). The response of the actors to this glut of actors has been to, well, to sign with more managers. It’s not really helping. Actors are paying more commission, that’s all. Do we think any of them are having more focused careers, longer lasting careers? More rewarding careers? No, they are not.

I ask you to observe this: In the theatrical season of 1990 to 1991, 42.0% of Actors Equity members had at least one job. In 2009 to 2010, 41.4% of their membership had a job. The average weekly total of employed members in 1990 to 1991 was 13.5%. In 2009 to 2010 it was the same, 13.5%.

Is anybody actually making a living out there? In 1990 – 1091, the median AEA member earnings were $4,935. In 2009 – 2010 they were $7,475. Adjusting for inflation, is that any growth at all? Who can live on that?

Something happened. The business changed. The art form is still there at the end of the rainbow but the business is more visible, more intrusive, more in the way. How is the young actor to navigate all these considerations of business which he never learned about in school? Who’s to teach him? Why, a manager, of course. Increasingly, it is the manager who leads the actor to his first job. It has always been true that the agent who leads an actor to the next level of his career is discarded in favor of a new agent who is supposedly more capable of handling the new level. This is starting to happen to managers and, boy, are they not pleased.

What do managers do? Depends on the manager. Time was a manager had fewer clients than an agent so he or she had more time to concentrate on creating work opportunities for their clients, finding out why their client’s careers weren’t moving faster, or in the direction the client hoped for. Or just making sure that the people with the jobs knew about their clients and considered them for those jobs. Finding out what the casting people and the creative people and the suits thought of their clients. Were there problems? How could they be fixed? I mean, that’s what a good manager does. What does an agent do? He looks for work for his clients. If he finds it, he says, hey, here’s some work. Is it appropriate work? Well, answering that question is not really the agent’s job. (It is a good agent’s job but it is not part of the job description.) That’s where a manager is supposed to come in. The manager guides. Oh, excuse me. What kind of a beginning actor needs such a guide? I knew a young actor who just got out of graduate school who signed with a manager who would not let him audition to replace an actor in a Broadway play because her clients did not replace! In fairness to the actor, he had no idea at the time that his manager was making such moves. In fairness to the manager – who could be fair to such a bozo?

When I first started representing actors I didn’t even know what a manger was – and then I became one. I was looking for a job as an agent and I heard about an assistant’s job at a management office. I had been an actor for seven years at that point and I only knew one person with a manager and she was actually doing better than most of my crowd. I wasn’t doing so well myself which is why I was looking for a job on the other side of the desk. So I interviewed for that job at the management office and I got it. And I learned what managers did. They took extra time. They took extra care. And they fought harder for more money for their clients (because in those days there was more money to be had). I quit it several years later because I felt that most of the people I managed didn’t need a manager. We had 35 clients and I would say maybe five of them actually benefited from that extra time and attention that we offered. These days people need managers just to keep from getting forgotten altogether because agents don’t have the time because agents have too many clients. When I went to work at a talent agency, there were four agents and 125 clients in the office. When I left seven years later, there were two agents and 125 clients. God knows what the average actor/agent ratio is today. And it would be impossible to know because agents (and managers) lie about how many clients they have. They lie routinely. They don’t even think about it.

All of the mid-size agencies where I used to work are out of business. Their battle cry to clients used to be: You don’t need a manager, we work like managers, we will look out for you. By which they meant that they took extra time and extra care that large offices didn’t take because they didn’t have the time. Today, nobody has the time. Not even small offices. Everybody has too many clients. Today there are large agencies (mostly for famous people) and small agencies (for everybody else). There are, in truth, a handful of mid-size offices but I bet that if you were able to lay your hands on one of their actual client lists, they would qualify as large agencies. I mean, look at the self-acknowledged large agencies. At CAA, Bryan Lourd personally represents George Clooney, Robert DeNiro, Brad Pitt, Robert Downey Jr., Drew Barrymore, Jimmy Fallon, Matthew McConaughey, Sean Penn, Madonna, Naomi Watts, Penelope Cruz, Natalie Portman, Robin Williams, David Duchovny, Helen Hunt and Tom Cruise. Are you kidding me??? How does he have time to sleep?
Can you imagine the other support teams those actors must have to pay just to keep their careers on track, let alone thriving? The number of balls the accompanying managers and publicists and attorneys have to keep in the air while Bryan Lourd goes about the business of getting those people work? I mean, he has to do something for each of them every day, doesn’t he? Do you think he does? Do you think he does something for David Duchovny every day? Do you really?

At least a manager working for David Duchovny has things to do, fires to put out, jobs to chase after. What does a manger have to do for Betty Boop who just graduated from the University of Michigan and desperately wants to be seen for The Park this summer? Does she need a manager to help insure that she gets seen for The Park? Years ago, no. Today, I have to say, it couldn’t hurt. I can promise you her small agent doesn’t have the time or the clout to track down Jordan and Heidi to meet somebody who just got to town. They can’t see everybody and rumor has it they missed the University of Michigan this year. They have only so many hours in their days. Just like Bryan Lourd. It pains me to say so but Betty Boop might benefit from a manager who has the time to make a few extra phone calls.

Careers need time and attention. Are managers the only people who have time and attention to give? Why can’t actors give it to themselves? We could start by teaching actors how to work for themselves. Every actor I ever represented who wound up with a sizeable career did a ton of work for himself with no help from me. When Billy Crudup was in “Arcadia” – the first time – he was fresh out of school. (Or almost.) During the run of that play, Billy was in a reading of a new play or an old play or a movie or something at some theatre or office or production house every single Monday night (his night off) for the next nine months. (I think he may have missed one Monday.) When I learned this, near the end of the run (because Billy had just gone ahead and done those readings, he hadn’t asked me to read the scripts first, or have a car sent for him – he just did it), I expressed astonishment at what a glutton for work he was. What was he trying to accomplish? He shrugged and said, “Well, I’ve probably met everyone in the business who could give me a job.”

Billy was extremely smart and, yes, a glutton for work and, in his own way, very ambitious. But the ambition gene doesn’t always come with the talent gene. There are always the talented ones who, heartbreakingly, give up and go back home. Some of them stay, some of the tough to launch ones. Some of the ambivalent, hard to categorize ones. Are we to turn them all over to managers? Will the managers do what is necessary to help them? What do managers do? Do they even listen? I know one manager who proudly says that is exactly what she does: “I listen,” she says and, the world being what it is, people do not laugh in her face.

So what’s to be done? A few years ago, Michael Miller floated the idea for a not for profit talent agency, i.e. a subsidized talent agency – with talent truly being the sole criteria for taking on clients, no need to consider the profit making potential of a new client. Which is a joke anyway. My first boss told me Linda Hunt would never make a dime.) The only consideration would be: are they gifted? If an agent could simply say: “I don’t care if it’s impossible to think of anyone who might hire Nell Carter, she’s brilliant and I’m going to sign her,” the world would be a better place. Actually, that is what Nell Carter’s first agent did say but he was subsidized, i.e. rich. I also used to work with a manager who refused to take commission until the client’s income topped $150,000. Because, as the manager himself put it: “Until the client makes that much money, what do they need with me?” I also used to know a wonderful casting director who simply wouldn’t deal with managers. He tells me he can’t afford such scruples today. And if managers are really helping, maybe such so-called scruples are beside the point. It’s a big if, however.

Recently I went to “The Cherry Orchard” at CSC Rep and had my love for the theatre and actors and life itself restored. It was such a perfect and perfectly beautiful production, I was smiling for the rest of the day. Then the next morning, I woke up remembering that all the actors on CSC’s stage were making $380 a week. I wondered what that amounted to after taxes and commission and realized I had stopped smiling. I wondered what percentage of that cast had managers. What is 20% of $380?

Michael

First, Dave Horak:

December 1, 2011

Hello Michael,

It’s been many months since this summer’s Teacher’s Development Program but so much of the experience still resonates with me and I’ve finally been able to sit down and write to you a bit about what continues to the surface as I finish up the current term teaching some excellent young actors up here in Canada.

As I mentioned to you this summer, I am in a period of flux in my career and I came to New York this summer to see if I could be inspired to come back into the classroom. I expected to witness some great teachers doing their “thing” but what happened to me was unexpected. The simple statement on the website declaring that “teaching is an art” somehow floated by me when I applied. I had no idea how deadly serious this simple statement was.

During the program I was able to see how it is possible to actually be an artist-teacher. This is no small event as I had always considered myself an artist who taught, mostly as a side job while I wasn’t acting or directing. And generally I enjoyed what I taught, enjoyed the students and learned a great deal about acting and myself through the process. But the job always felt like a second place choice for me.

The obvious joy, passion and commitment that I observed from all of the instructors, including you Michael, awakened my own love of working in the classroom. Of course I was watching and engaging with master teachers, but I also began to see how I could place my own artistic work with what I do with students. I must say that the summer program has had a profound effect on how I view what it is that I, and in fact all teachers who strive for greatness, do.

I’m lucky that I am able to work as an actor and director outside of the University and ironically this year I find myself teaching less than I have in the past. I just finished performing in a production of Death of a Salesman at the main regional theatre here in Edmonton, after doing a successful solo Fringe show and in January I’ll be performing in “Boeing Boeing” (doing the “Mark Rylance” role) so it’s surprising that while I’ve been more inspired to teach, I’m actually doing less of it. And for the first time I’m anxious about it. This is the blessing and the curse of attending the program. After being so inspired to teach – I’m bothered that I’m actually doing less of it!

Micheal, I wanted to thank you for running this program and I hope this letter encourages your further work in creating the space for inspiration to occur. The short weeks that I attended the program have made a lasting impression on my work and I know that it has been transferred to my students.

I am now an avid reader of the newsletter and hope the next time I get to New York to again share a drink or meal with you!

Sincere best wishes of the season!

Dave Horak

And then this from Peter Jay Fernandez:

Actor/Teacher Journal:

Jan 8, 2012: Wow! It’s the New Year and a new semester starts in two short weeks. Where did the holiday break go? (Family, friends, and rehearsals. That’s where). Okay, 1st class, Monday the 23rd: Chekhov’s “The Three Sisters” (the Russians are coming!). The whole class working on one playwright this time, tracking the lives of these characters through a whole play. Start with a read-through and discussion. 2nd class, Wednesday the 25th:…..Oh shoot! 1st preview! We’ll be rehearsing that afternoon. (More rewrites? Who knows?) Who can I talk to about covering class for me? Can’t cancel. I’ll never find time or space to make it up and once you get behind it’s unfair to the students (57 grand a year!) The whole point is to reinforce the idea of following through in their scene prep and performance. These kids are smart and talented but they have a tendency not to “finish,” so what example am I setting by missing the 2nd class of the semester? (“Well, an actor has to act.” “Yes, and a teacher has to teach!”) Okay buddy, this is what you wanted: to act AND teach. You’re working on two fronts, so work it out (not so long ago, you were complaining about NOT acting). One discipline informs the other and the bills keep coming….so.

Jan 10, 2012: Julie to the rescue!! She’ll combine my section with hers for the first Wednesday class. They’ll do exercises and discuss the plays that each class is working on. I can assign scenes the next class and begin first reads. I’m excused from rehearsal on the 1st (per my agreement with the theater) and Kathy will probably cover the two matinee day classes in February. That clears me for the run of the play… unless we extend…then the understudy comes into play…Oh boy… first things first! Need to finish reviewing the student evaluations and see if there’s anything to highlight for the new semester and finish my syllabus and e-mail it in. That reminds me. Need to keep and eye and ears on B—- and M——-. They both became distracted and lost focus around early November and struggled for the last month or so.

Jan 13, 2012: Finished the syllabus (with the adjustments). I’ll e-mail it on Monday. Got a call from my agent today about an audition for a guest spot on some TV show. He asked, “So, this teaching thing…you can get out of it if they book you, right?” I said, “Well, no. I’m already missing several classes because of the play. I have a commitment to the school and these students. I have to be consistent if I want them to be.” He said, “Well what are you gonna do if you get offered the lead in a Broadway show or a TV Series?” (Good question. Very good question). “I mean, I’m thinking in terms of your career and how I can best represent you. What are my options going to be?” (Good point. Very good point.)…… My teaching is important to me and I think I’m making a difference, but at the same time I feel that my acting tank is far from empty….I said, “Well…we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it…I gotta go now…class at 1:30.”

(To be continued…)

It’s no secret to anyone reading this journal that life as an actor is not easy. It takes enough effort to survive the grind auditioning for other people’s projects, even those which given the option, we’d probably just as soon avoid. Yet, we need the money and careers don’t start themselves!
Aside from the obvious reasons though, I think there is a different, more systematic reason more actors, particularly those of my generation, don’t create their own work: they aren’t expected to.

If you asked Ron Van Lieu, chair of acting at the Yale School of Drama, and mentor nonpareil to several generations of actors, what he thinks is the biggest issue facing young American actors today, I think he would say: “They are scared.” “Scared of what?” you might ask next. His answer would no doubt be a simple one…”I’m not sure.” And with little more than that, his point is made: what is there to be scared of really?

Somewhere along the line, young actors in our country are being inculcated with a desire to “get it right,” to “avoid failure at all costs.” Yes, a fear of disappointment has surely haunted every actor who ever deigned to step beyond the comfort of the wings as well as every writer who has managed to utter the words “would you read this,” but Ron’s insight calls for further scrutiny: why is the fear of failure so acute among my generation?

I will not speak for all actors in my position, but from my point of view the desire to please, whether conscious or not, has been instilled in us by an entertainment culture that increasingly seems to demand we be something we are not: taller, more chiseled, skinnier, younger, funnier, the list goes on.

I believe the theater has its performative step-brothers in Hollywood to thank for this association. TV and Film are, after all, visual media and from their inception have had to place the highest value on image. I’m not saying there aren’t, thankfully, many diverse exceptions to the toothsome casting choices we have become unaccustomed to onscreen, but on the whole I think it’s fair to say that these visual media are responsible for blanketing our culture with a visual archetype that leads any casual observer to claim “you look like an actor.” In fact, this phrase has come to feel like a compliment; “you look like an actor” has come to mean simply “you look pretty.” Call me an idealist, but I think everyone should look like actors, or better yet, we should have actors that look like everyone.

And with that, I’ll have to pull over – I can see the rant police in the rear-view mirror.

So fine. It’s not that simple. Yet, I think it’s fair to say that my generation of actor spends more time at the gym than at the keyboard or rehearsal hall working on his or her own material. If you consider what we’re up against though, it may be hard to blame us. If we want to make enough money to live comfortably we must find a way to be on television or in the movies and we’ll have a better chance at that if we “look like actors” right?

So, why am I bringing this up? Because our artistic voices as actors are important, particularly to the theater, and we jeopardize their strength and relevance if we spend too much time trying to solve the riddle of what Hollywood is looking for, and not enough time cultivating our own points of view of the world.

If you go back far enough in our theatrical history, you can find a time when looks came second to things like clarity and size of spirit. Before microphones, the strength of an actor’s voice far outweighed what he looked like with his shirt off. To say nothing of the ancient Greek actor/playwright/warriors that invented this whole thing, our Western theatrical history is rife with examples of actors who took on more than just “looking the part.” Consider David Garrick. Not only a celebrated actor of his day, but as a manager and producer, Garrick lead the Drury Lane Theater through the most celebrated period of its history. In between all this he also managed to pick up the quill and scribble his own plays. It is Garrick’s sort of theatrical triathlete that has become an endangered species in the American theater, and I happen to think his kind is essential to the perseverance of our art form.

What Ron Van Lieu perceives of my generation is real, we’re being bred to fit in with the TV and Film model that often asks only one thing of young actors: show up on the day and do what you’re told. If the theater is to survive (it will) and thrive (I’m not so sure) it needs actors who are artists first. People with something to say. More David Garricks and fewer David Hasselhoffs.

So, how do we do this?

As anyone who goes to the gym knows, you don’t go to the gym for a week and leave with a six-pack. Likewise, I’m not suggesting that with a few simple steps we can all become playwrights, or theater managers, or directors; that would be an act of hubris, not to mention an affront to our fellow theater junkies who have devoted their lives to these positions. However, I do believe an actor is better equipped to fulfill his creative role in the entire production process when he has at least further explored and developed his/her own artistic voice in other ways. I also firmly believe that our country’s theater will only benefit from more of these types of actors. We should be cultivating them rather than leaving them no choice but to hit the gym and wait for pilot season.

So here’s my New Year’s challenge to Generation WHY (and anyone else who’s game): Sit down and write. Write the character you’ve always wanted to play but that nobody will let you, write the scene you want to be in, the story you want to tell. Just the act of doing that will make you a better actor. It will reengage you with the pursuit of your unique artistic voice, it will put you face to face with a blank canvas, it will force you to choose a place to start! Hell, get up on your feet and create a little show while you’re at it, we all did it as kids – it’s part of the reason we’re here now! Our creative muscle is one like any other, we have to keep taking it to the gym or it will atrophy. If you are in between jobs, or stuck in one you hate, pick up the quill!

David Garrick’s plays were universally touted as abominable, but who cares?! What he sought was not the cover of Men’s Health magazine, but a fuller sense of his own place in the artistic landscape of his time.

For the duration of this period I will be documenting the experience with a series of essays looking more closely at what it is to be part of an acting company bringing theatre to communities across America. My hope is that in doing so I can examine the value of company and the benefits and setbacks in this day and age in the American Theatre. For whatever criticism or praise one can say about The Acting Company, there is nothing like it in our country right now, and it is part of an age-old tradition of touring repertory companies bringing important work to people outside the big cities. As The Acting Company nears its 40th anniversary, I am excited to experience the company’s mission: bringing theatre to communities across the country who have limited access to high caliber professional productions of classic works.

I’m also curious to find out if there is any truth to the idea of a company. What gives The Acting Company the right to call itself a company? Does it serve a purpose anymore? And how?

I’m excited to discuss the all this because I’d spent the better part of graduate school literally dreaming about the possibilities inherent in collaboration and ensemble. In school you spend 3 years developing deep bonds with your classmates and doing one show after another. This is what we now call training in our country, but this was not, as many of us know, what training always was. To train was to take part in a company of actors doing a repertory of shows. We don’t have much like this anymore, and The Acting Company is truly the last bastion that resembles anything akin to how great stage actors used to evolve and grow and take the temperature of the country’s need for theatre.

I suspect that we have lost something really essential about acting and the theater because of this. Acting and being an actor are truly not what I expected them to be when I entered into graduate school. Soon after finishing I came to realize, to my disappointment, that being an actor in New York is more often than not an incredibly solitary life. Actors in New York, for the most part, build their careers on their own, as independent contractors. You audition alone; you often prepare alone, or with a few willing and patient friends; you travel alone to a new job; you do your job and return to the city in hopes of being plugged in someplace else, hoping that the theater you worked at liked your work, so that you can possibly get rehired to repeat the same process. This feels incredibly individualistic for a communal art form, and the irony is not lost on the itinerants who populate the profession. Yet, this seems to be the way things are, and any proposed antidote to this stratification comes up against innumerable realities and challenges.

In lieu of all this, the opportunity to experience actually being part of a company that calls itself a Company, and prides itself on just that, was something I’ve jumped at doing. I’m wondering if I’m going to feel the same way in a few months. I look forward to sharing the experience with you and opening up a dialogue about the values of company and whether or not it is a necessary component for making the best most lasting and soul-stretching theatre we can.

Dear Friends,

So many of you were appreciative of the sentiments expressed in last year’s appeal letter that I have decided reissue it this season. Read it or discard it for your evening’s pleasure, but please help us advance the actor’s voice in this society. To donate online please visit The Actors Center.

December, 2010

Dear Family and Friends of The Actors Center,

I remember a time when “annual giving” was a rite and a soul cleansing act of service to one’s fellow man. No matter how poor we were, one gave a little more than you could or prudently should because you knew that others were extending themselves as well, and in the end we would all be the better for it. There was always someone close by that was clearly worse off and needed help. Annual giving was a rite and a privilege. Now I feel it should be called “annual dunning”. There is nothing annual about it. It is like a drone constantly circling above us, creating a sucking vortex that robs us of any sense of true giving or of joy in common cause, because it seems to prey upon you rather than ennoble you. Or it resembles an ugly baby bird with its beak open wide in full expectation of its gullet being stuffed, not only by its exhausted parents, but by every passer by. I think we all remember our own experiences of a giving that felt good, that cleansed our psyche by helping us reach beyond our own self interests. I think my first experience of that kind was in the fall of 1945, when I was ten. A young man who worked on the farm just down the road had contracted polio. He had just turned 18. He had played baseball in high school, and I thought he was just who I wanted to grow up to be. I was devastated to learn that he was sick, then to learn that he was in NYC in a hospital, and then to learn that was being kept alive by an iron lung and would never play baseball again. Our church took up a special collection for his family on Sundays, and my mother would give me a dime to put in the plate. A dime was a big deal to me then, and frankly to my mother and father as well. But it paled by the experience of giving it away to save my boyhood hero’s life. Now I understand that it was in my own self interest as well. I felt that I was helping him, which made me feel bigger and more of a consequence in his life.

Forgive me that Mark Twain, Norman Rockwell picture of rural community life and sense of personal connection to others, but there is a reason I addressed this brief note to “Family and Friends.” The Actors Center has a very particular purpose, and I believe a large number of devotees to that purpose see The Actors Center as the institution that best represents their long term goals. That is our family. Then there are our friends, those of you who admire and support the purpose and the family members who pursue it. Together we need to support the institution that serves us and binds us together. In our fourteen years of operation, we have had a large national impact, and continue to be embarked on programs of national import and service. The leadership of the organization, namely Ron Van Lieu and myself, work pro bono. Our Board contribute generously of their time and their money yet we operate on a budget of just over $120,000, and struggle from month to month to meet payroll, for our two fabulous, underpaid, part time employees. Our goal is to raise $10,000 through this end of the year appeal. Your participation in this is central, because you are a member of our closely allied community and your dimes, dollars, and generous checks will make a very real difference in our ability to continue our work. Bless you, happiest of holidays, and every best wish for the new year.