While relatively tedious to compile, I’ve come to love these year-end reviews.  They remind me that I actually make a living at my craft, no matter how insecure I get during the course of the year about my abilities or accomplishments (or seeming lack thereof).  Lists like these remind me that I am doing what I love, and am being rewarded for it.  Lists like these remind me that my career choice bought me passage into my very first house, all on my own, and keeps me there.

Because let’s be honest – there is always a point (or five) in the year when I panic.  I think, ohmygod, they’ve finally realized that I’m a total fraud and NOW I WILL NEVER WORK AGAIN.  EVER.  This happens regularly.  Without fail.  And then I end up inexplicably landing another incredible gig and think, oh, well, okay – maybe I’m not that bad.  It is a joy and an honor to be so lucky.

Without further ado, my performance highlights of 2011:

January
Continued part-time work at the Science Museum of Minnesota on the Science Live team – performing live science demonstrations and science-related short plays for museum audiences.

Marketplace Events spots – third year running.  Ty Pennington and me on national TV and radio urging you to attend home shows across the U.S.  TV commercials aired on HGTV and ABC and their affiliates.  Recorded at Audio Ruckus.

VOs for General Mills, but I took very poor notes about this, and have no recollection of what it was for.  My guess is that it was, perhaps, some pickups for the 42 spots I did back in December for Progresso Light Soups, Yoplait and Yoplait Light Yogurts, and Big G Cereals national TV spots.  Note to self in 2012: take better notes.  Recorded at Babble-On for Shout! Creative.

February
Script workshop and stage-direction reading for public presentation of Carson Kreitzer’s new play, Behind the Eye, as part of The Playwrights’ Center’s Ruth Easton series.  Funded by the National Endowment for the Arts and commissioned by the Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park for a world premiere in April.

Not much else to report other than travel to Florida.  It was warm.  I remember needing that.  Oh yes, and travel to Madison, WI, to teach museum-theater techniques to institutions across the U.S.

March
VO for the trailer of TRIUMPH67, an independent feature-length film that went on to become the official selection of the Twin Cities Arab Film Festival.

Spent the day in studio at Minnesota Public Radio (MPR), recording the voice for a sultry character in The Winner, a pilot for Minnesota Stories – a new program dedicated to showcasing Minnesota writers.

VO for Target – a short film about inclusiveness called You Make Us.  Recorded at Audio Ruckus.

April
Table-read of a new script by Patrick Coyle at The Jungle Theater.

The Winner, recorded in March, airs twice on Minnesota Public Radio.

May
VO for Cadillac.  With Laurence Fishburne.  I played his talking GPS.  Recorded at Babble-On for Fallon.

I bought my very first house, all by myself.  I think this is what officially makes me an adult, but I’m still not quite sold on that idea.  The only reason I’m including this here, amongst my gigs, is because those VO gigs are what made this possible.

June
Script workshop and stage-direction reading for public presentation at the Playwrights’ Center of Scratch, a new play by Shira Naharit.

Started rehearsals for Minnesota Middle Finger, Ben San Del’s Minnesota Fringe Festival entry.  Yes, Fringe is in August.  We started way, way early because of everyone’s insane schedules.  I think when all was said and done we only had 12 rehearsals.

July
VO demos for Hormel, recorded at Modern Music/Fischer Edit for BBDO.

Co-wrote and produced a short satirical 1950’s-style educational film, The Wonders and Worries of Nanotechnologyon behalf of the Science Museum of Minnesota for The Nanoscale Informal Science Education Network (NISE Net).  Film + Production by Teddy Media.

August
2011 Minnesota Fringe Festival, and my performance in Ben San Del’s Minnesota Middle Finger with the incomparable John Middleton and Tim Hellendrung.

VO spots (more, again) for Marketplace Events home shows with Ty Pennington – TV and Radio.  Continued airings on HGTV and ABC.  Recorded at Audio Ruckus.

Three-day script workshop at The Playwrights’ Center of Outcasts of Eden, a new play by Andie Arthur.

Served as host/barker for the AFL-CIO Labor Pavilion at the Minnesota State Fair, on behalf of AFTRA.

Cast in kaotic good productions’ The Cooking Show con Karimi & Comrades: Viva Las Roots! to be presented at Intermedia Arts in October 2011.

September
Cast as both Anne Bonny and Mary Read in the Science Museum of Minnesota’s next major exhibition, Real Pirates, as well as cast in the publicity crew for advance event appearances.  Exhibition opens mid-February 2012.

Attended the 7^th annual Ivey Awards – Minneapolis/St. Paul’s version of the Tonys.  Very, very swank.  Very, very inspiring.  I know I said that last year, but I still mean it.

VO spot for General Mills – radio spot for Yoplait Yogurt in the NYC market.  Recorded at Audio Ruckus for Shout! Creative.

October
Cast in The Peanut Butter Factory’s next production, Rajiv Joseph’s Gruesome Playground Injuries – a two-person show with Adam Whisner to be presented late winter/early spring 2012.

Went on a three-day writing retreat to northern Minnesota with the company of kaotic good productions’ The Cooking Show con Karimi & Comrades: Viva Las Roots! to create character and storyline.

VO narration for short documentary Does Every Silver Lining Have a Cloud?, a look at the effect of nanosilver on the environment, created by the Museum of Life + Science in Durham, North Carolina, on behalf of the Nanoscale Informal Science Education Network (NISE Net).  Recorded at Babble-On.

VO for the National Marrow Donor Program’s annual council awards ceremony recognition film segments.  Recorded at Aaron/Stokes for Blue 60 Pictures.

Script workshop and stage-direction reading at the evening performance of Sarah Gubbins’ new work, The Water Play at The Playwrights’ Center.

Performances of kaotic good productions’ The Cooking Show con Karimi & Comrades: Viva Las Roots!at Intermedia Arts.

November
Performances continue of kaotic good productions’ The Cooking Show con Karimi & Comrades: Viva Las Roots!at Intermedia Arts.

Got my eyes did.  Yep.  Lasik.  No more contacts or glasses.  This changes everything on stage and in the recording booth, for the better.

Spent the day at the Hennepin County Courthouse, serving as a key witness in Faegre & Benson’s mock trial program.

December
VOs for Marketplace Events Home Shows with Ty Pennington – fourth year running!  Recorded at Audio Ruckus.

Appeared on Kare 11 News morning program as Anne Bonny, marketing for the Science Museum of Minnesota’s Real Pirates exhibition opening February 2012.

Script workshop and stage-direction reading at the evening performance of Kira Obolensky’s new play, Vasa Lisa at The Playwrights’ Center, co-presented by Ten Thousand Things.  Workshop in preparation for a late-spring full production by Ten Thousand Things.

Epilogue
2011, you treated my career well, and for that I thank you.  2012, we’re going to roll up our shirtsleeves and till this soil for continued growth.  My last major career goal was to make my living as an artist, which I have been doing for the last few years; it’s time to dream bigger dreams.  And then run to catch them.

Mero Cocinero’s PopUpKitchen opens tonight at Intermedia Arts!  It closes Saturday, November 5 (si, that’s just one short week), so be sure to swing by for a killer four-course meal served up by Mero and the rest of his comrades (yours truly included).  Seatings are at 7 pm tonight and tomorrow, and then again Wednesday through Saturday, November 2-5. Reservations recommended but not required.

In true Dia de los Muertos tradition, we’ll be honoring our ancestors through food, telling stories, and cooking together – all with healthy doses of laughter.  It’s highly interactive, so we may just hand you a knife and ask you to chop tonight’s carrots with us.

For ticket information and further details, visit ¡Viva Las Roots! at Intermedia Arts.  See you on the other side, mis compañeros.  There, we shall dance together.

All of which I intend to write about.  Really, I do.

But today I need to share something far more immediate and pressing, and I shall preface it thusly: I would rather spend quality time with the hideous giant spider in my garage than plan, shop, and execute an ensemble for some fancy event.  Ensemble as in clothes, not as in performance group.  “But she dresses up for a living!” you say.  “This should be easy and fun for her!”  And to that I say, “Nope. It’s overwhelming. Also? Tedious.”

Don’t get me wrong – I enjoy a good dress and the tiny victory I feel in all the compliments that come with it (hell, I live in dresses in the summertime, but that’s because they’re complete outfits unto themselves – no planning required), but the process of figuring out an ensemble all by myself takes up valuable time that I’d rather spend doing something else.  For the love of god, anything else.  And now you understand my personal crusade to canonize all good costumers everywhere.

So the fabulous Ivey Awards are on Monday night.  Yesterday, I obtained an ensemble.  And could not, would not, have done so without the tireless determination of The Most Divine Miss Emily Taylor and her most appreciated stylist tendencies.  Sainthood is most certainly yours, my dear.

The final numbers are in, and out of 167 shows and just over 48,000 tickets sold, Minnesota Middle Finger was #5 in ticket sales.  Audiences who chose to review our show gave us a solid 4.5 average rating out of 5 kitties (yes, instead of stars we have kitties; don’t ask).  We officially sold out twice.  We received the “encore” performance in our venue.  All in all, a pretty fine experience.

And so, a little photographic capsule of the past eleven days:

John's Generators. He sailed them high above the theater for safekeeping, but always seemed to look for them in his pockets first, before remembering.

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Rosé Canseco - in search of the perfect Fringe Cocktail, Round One.

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John, Tim, alley behind the theater, elusive lines.

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This is what John looks like after he pops out of my head and then gets held up by an invisible shotgun.

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Raced to Augsburg for my final opportunity to catch Seth Lepore's "Losing My Religion..." Three people ahead of me in line and the show sold out. I was left with no ticket, no show, and no quarters.

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On stage. Photo: Craig VanDerSchaegen.

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Tim Hellendrug playing "Go Big Red" for me in very possibly the best stage woo-ing scene ever. Ever. Photo: Craig VanDerSchaegen

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And that, dear friends, wraps up another year.  Goodnight, sweet Fringe.  Sleep well, and dream inspiring dreams, for I long to see them breathe come morning.

2000 – The Last Cherry Pit, Ministry of Cultural Warfare (MoCW)
2001 – Into the Acid Fountain (The Federico Fellini Variety Hour), MoCW
2002 – Slaughter House Warming, MoCW
2003 – Industrials, MoCW
2004 – In Defense of Sin (My Friends’ Best Stories), MoCW
2005 – served as The Voice of the Fringe for the official Fringe Festival podcasts (this also happens to be what launched my professional voice-over career, so I think this means I owe the Fringe my firstborn or something.  I can’t remember.  I’ll have to go back and check the paperwork).
2006 – The Unbearable Lightness of Being American, MoCW
2007 – The Tyranny of God’s Love, MoCW (appeared onstage via video, as was touring another show at the time)
2008 – blogged my brains out in exchange for a Fringe Press Pass
2009 – (just watched, and didn’t want to talk about it)
2010 – See You Next Tuesday, Walking Shadow Theatre Company

It is now a joy and a pleasure to add 2011 to the list:

2011 – Minnesota Middle Finger, Ben San Del

Leigha Horton. photo: Craig VanDerSchaegen

Tim Hellendrung, John Middleton, and I opened Ben San Del’s Minnesota Middle Finger last night to a sold-out house, robust laughter, and excellent reviews. It’s been such an honor to work with these delightful guys, and I cannot wait to see how the rest of the run plays out. Do come!

Sat., Aug. 6, 8:30 pm
Sun., Aug. 7, 5:30 pm
Thur., Aug. 11, 10 pm
Fri., Aug. 12, 4 pm
Sat., Aug. 13, 7:30 pm

John Middleton, Leigha Horton, Tim Hellendrung. photo: Craig VanDerSchaegen

In 2010 I made my living in front of an audience and behind the mic.  And for that I am so deeply in awe.  So deeply grateful for my fortuity.  While our economy is not nearly as bad as 2009, it’s still in terrible disarray and record numbers of people are still unemployed.  Even so, I was able to make a modest living via my profession; a modest living that didn’t require me to engage in morally questionable behavior (the kind where one would accompany a raised eyebrow with ‘actress’ in air-quotes).

Without further ado, my performance highlights of 2010:

January

• Voice-overs for ParentAwareRatings.org (listen).
• Voice-overs for St. Catherine University (listen).  Turns out a friend heard the spot multiple times and never realized it was me until I mentioned it on Facebook.  I kind of like it when that happens.
• Finished the six-month run of Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition at the Science Museum of Minnesota.  I spent part of my weekdays engaging with the general public as Nurse Evelyn Marsden – sharing, in a darling English accent, her experiences aboard the ship in the first-class cabins and hospitals.  I was sad to say goodbye to her.
• Voice-overs for Marketplace Events -  2nd year in a row (listen).  Ty Pennington and me on national TV and radio urging you to attend home shows all around the U.S. (watch)  TV commercials aired on HGTV and ABC and their affiliates.

February

• Began rehearsals for the Science Museum of Minnesota’s next exhibition – The Dead Sea Scrolls: Words That Changed the World, wherein we would perform a three-minute introductory monologue for visitors every 7.5 minutes.  In all honesty, it was mind-numbing, but the visitors were mostly appreciative.
• Interviewed by Minnesota Public Radio’s Chris Roberts about my line-memorization techniques – ultimately compiled into a clever on-air story and accompanying slideshow with fellow actors Steven Epp, Mo Perry and Clarence Wethern.
  
• The Big Oscar Crunch 2010 – wherein I try to see as many of the Oscar-nominated films as humanly possible before the awards ceremony.  The fun of doing it that way is not only seeing excellent movies, but actually feeling invested in more than just the red carpet.
• Started rehearsals for Spring of Freedom/Summer of Fear – a new Iranian play by Ali G. Ravi , produced by Table Salt Productions.
• VO gig for Carlson Companies – got to put Nurse Evelyn Marsden’s darling English accent to good use.

March

• Devastated to drop out of Spring of Freedom/Summer of Fear due to a harrowing family crisis which, because it apparently wasn’t bad enough, led to a nasty case of shingles.  Yes, shingles.  Probably the worst three weeks of my adult life to date.
• Called in by the lovely Barbara Shelton at Bab’s Casting to audition for a new WB pilot Mike and Molly.  The network was looking for someone 30 pounds overweight.  I was exactly that (not anymore, thanks to a newfound love of yoga), and so happily went in.  Between the script (and the eventual casting choice), it became quite clear that LA thinks 30 pounds overweight is the same thing as obese.  Surprising?  Not really.
• Called in by the Guthrie Theater to audition for the role of Eunice in Streetcar Named Desire.  Almost missed the e-mail because I assumed it was Guthrie marketing spam and was about to delete it.  Didn’t recognize the sender’s name, though, so opened it.  Close call.
• VOs for Nexxus demos/animatics.  These are voice-overs for a concept by the ad agency for the client.  If it gets approved by the client, the agency then films the spots.  Since I almost never watch commercial TV, I have no idea if these ever made it though the pipeline…my guess is no (especially since many of these were the same as, or similar to, the ones I did in April 2009).

April

• VOs for Nexxus demos/animatics – two more sessions.
• Public reading of Casa Cushman, a new work by NYC’s Tectonic Theater Project (the folks who brought you The Laramie Project, at the University of Minnesota Nolte Center.

May

• Crickets. Both figurative and literal.  Aside from live science demonstrations at the Science Museum of Minnesota, it appears that I did nothing performance-related in May.  And I went camping.
• On Tuesday, May 11, amongst of a jumble of scheduled meetings and things to do, I found written in my calendar, “Hell-cat Maggie and Slops McConnell.”  I have no idea what that means, but I think it’s funny, so thought I would share with anyone who is still reading by this point.  Kiss, kiss.

June
More crickets.  Figurative.  See May.

July

• Started rehearsals for See You Next Tuesday, my very first show with Walking Shadow Theater Company.
• Three-day script workshop of Trista Baldwin’s stunning Forgetting at The Playwrights’ Center.

August

• 2010 Minnesota Fringe Festival, and my performance in Walking Shadow’s critically acclaimed See You Next Tuesday.  I was so excited to be back at the festival that I advance-purchased an Ultra Pass, with which I ended up only seeing three shows due to an emergency hospital visit and an emergency vet visit.  2010 was not turning out to be a great year for health.
• VO spots (more, again) for Marketplace Events home shows with Ty Pennington – TV and Radio (listen).  Continued airings on HGTV and ABC.

September

• VO spots for General Mills – TV tags for Totino’s Party Pizzas (listen).
• Attended the (somethingth annual) Ivey Awards – Minneapolis/St. Paul’s version of the Tonys.  Very, very swank.  Very, very inspiring.
• VO spots for General Mills – TV tags for Progresso Soup (listen).

October

• Obscenely busy month that had almost nothing to do with performing.  Included business travel to San Francisco for continued work on behalf of the Science Museum of Minnesota for NISE Net (Nanoscale Informal Science Education Network), with a little leisure travel to San Diego and LA on the side.
• No! Wait!  Because of my General Mills VOs in September, this is the month that I was required to join the Screen Actors’ Guild (SAG)!  That’s right, I got my SAG card in October.  October was not an actorly loss, after all.

November

• Started rehearsals for a three-week, 30-hours/week workshop of Casa Cushman – in collaboration with NYC’s Tectonic Theater Project, choreographer Carl Flink, University of Minnesota Department of Theater Arts and Dance, a couple other U of M departments that I can’t recall at the moment, and The Playwrights’ Center.
• Sent live the brand-spankin’-shiny-new leighahorton.com.

December

• Performance of Casa Cushman at the Northrop Auditorium.  This was a wild ride, and at the end of it all, despite some crazy-cray-cray, it was kind of awesome.  And I kind of loved it.
  
• VOs for General Mills (42 in total) for Progresso Light Soups, Yoplait and Yoplait Light Yogurts, and Big G Cereals national TV spots.  I just about died and went to heaven.
• VOs for Marketplace Events Home Shows with Ty Pennington – third year running!
• Authored and published a children’s book for NISE Net, Alice in Nanoland, which, as you read this, is being mailed to 200 informal science education institutions (science museums, children’s museums, etc.) across the nation in the 2011 NanoDays kits.  What a curious little experience that was.

And there we have it!  The months of 2010 demonstrate both feast and famine and average out to healthy; December being, by far, the most entertaining (well, for me, anyway).  I continue to stand, mouth agape, at the wondrous profession I have chosen and the beautiful trajectory it has taken thus far.  I cannot wait to see what delightful paths await!

One of the most important actresses of her time, Cushman was famous for her interpretation of the leading MALE roles in Shakespeare. Cushman continually challenged Victorian notions of gender in her stage portrayals of male characters and of strong, androgynous female characters. Cushman also played the man in every area of her life. She gathered around her an incredible circle of emancipated nineteenth-century women: painters, poets, sculptors and literary women, many of whom she financially supported. She had intense love affairs with several of them.

Fondakowski’s project is based on the collection in the Library of Congress of over 1,000 unpublished letters, written by Cushman to Emma Crow, the transcription of which has been a ten-year labor of love by scholar Lisa Merrill. Many of Cushman’s letters to Crow include the directive: “burn this letter,” but they were not burned. Preserved, they chronicle a passionate Victorian-era lesbian love story before such love was thought to exist.

Featuring NATHAN CHRISTOPHER • ANNIE ENNEKING • LEIGHA HORTON •  CHARITY JONES • EMILY KING •  GREG PIEROTTI • KELLI SIMPKINS  • SIGRID SUTTER  •  REGINA MARIE WILLIAMS

Casa Cushman is being developed in partnership with Tectonic Theatre Project, with support from the University of Minnesota’s Imagine Fund, Institute for Advanced Study, and Department of Theatre Arts & Dance.

Free, but reservations recommended. To reserve seats please call 612-624-9183.
For more details, please visit The Playwrights’ Center Events Calendar.

Yep – that’s this Friday at 7 pm, and this Saturday at 3 pm.  It will be a staged reading with provocative choreography by Black Label Movement’s Carl Flink, gorgeous costumes, and lovely stage pictures developed by the ensemble and Tectonic Theater Project company members.

In addition to general ensemble work, I portray the firey Matilda ‘Max’ Hays – Charlotte Cushman’s first longterm lover and spouse.  The Max who, in my rehearsing hands, is terribly clumsy.  And unfortunately that’s not a character choice.  It’s a problem.  A funny problem, but a problem nonetheless.

In general, I think of myself as relatively graceful.  But once you put me in a corset and very large hoopskirt, add a mirrored room, a choreographer, and some dancers, I become terribly, terribly clumsy.  I’ve knocked things over.  I’ve fallen over.  I’ve fallen over things I’ve knocked over.

One afternoon found me attempting a choreographed move where I sit on a bench, lay my head into Charlotte’s lap, then widely swing my legs over the back of the bench (intentionally baring bloomers and all), before standing and continuing off in the opposite direction.  Sounds simple enough, right?  I mean, hell, I practice yoga – I can balance! And it was simple, in theory, until I misjudged the distance between my rear and her lap (compounded by the wonky physics of a hoopskirt in motion) got off balance, and ended up doing a face-plant onto the floor in front of her.  And of course it had to be in slow-motion.  Hilarious?  Mortifying?  YES!  Yes, it was all that AND MORE!

Another rehearsal brought minor destruction.  I was entering closely behind Charlotte: step, step, step, step, RIIIIIP.  We freeze with huge eyes.  I let out a tiny “sorry!” and hang my head in bewildered shame.  I had stepped on the lead’s hoop skirt and given it a very new, very large hole.  What the hell?!

I’ve taken to lamenting in my deepest, most pathetic register, “Clumsy Max is sorry.”  I don’t know that it helps any, but it certainly makes me feel a little better.  Laughing at myself is a sweet, sweet salve.

This is my second tango with the script, as the playwright was in residence at the University last spring and I was invited to perform in the public reading then.  I loved the script.  Loved, loved, loved it.  All three hours of it.  Before that first read, Leigh jokingly referred to it as The Lesbian Mahabharata.  Around hour 2.5 I understood why.

And as of last night, I still love it.  All however-many-hours-there-are of it.  I love the Victorian era, I love works with a strong female lead, and I love works with multiple strong women (even in their weakest, darkest, most questionable moments) all the better.  Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition gave me my first taste of exhaustive historical research for theatrical purposes, and this new play continues to feed that beast.

Last evening also brought the joy of meeting and chatting with some of the most talented actresses in the Twin Cities, and at one point I found myself engaged in a discussion about being a transplant.  It turned out that I, like the others, find that the majority of our friends are also transplants.  We were all in agreement about how it’s so bloody difficult to get beyond Minnesota Nice and really know people here.  And how Minnesota Nice will smile at you with razor teeth to make sure you’re no shinier than anyone else.

Turns out, I’ve discovered, that many in the Minnesota theater community are willing participants in Tall Poppy Syndrome – the cultural phenomenon where those who flourish get cut down to size – where one’s success is greeted by another’s resentment.  Where, as Garrison Keillor put it, “all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average,” and I’ll add, “and NO ONE steps out of that line.”

Now, I will argue that I am no tall poppy in need of any kind of lopping, and yet from time to time I have found myself on the receiving end of those metaphorical garden shears.  Not outright, mind you, they’re Minnesota garden shears, after all.  They’re, you know, covered in nice.  The kind of nice that makes you want to recoil and grow a nasty set of thorns for protection.

The way I see it is this:  you and I are not in competition with each other and we never will be.  Because even though we may be the same “type” and go out for the same roles, you and I will never, ever bring the same thing to a role.  And so if the director hired you, then he obviously wanted your skills/personality/looks/voice for this job.  And not mine.  That’s not a competition, that’s a best-fit.  And I can’t wait to see what you’ll do with the part, because I’m looking to learn.  I’m looking for inspiration.

Dammit, this community needs all the tall poppies it can get!  We should encourage each other to grow tall.  Intellectually, artistically feed one another. We need to encourage and support and collaborate and benefit and love.  Because, in the words of Paul Wellstone, “we all do better when we all do better.”

But be warned, I’m not going to support you if your tallness turns you into a dick.  In that case, I might even take an extra moment of consideration in front of the Round-Up.  No tall dick-poppies allowed.

***

Casa Cushman
Northrop Auditorium, University of Minnesota
Friday, December 10 – 7pm
Saturday, December 11 – 3pm

I am in a show (a show that I really enjoy being in) as part of the Minnesota Fringe Festival (a festival that I really enjoy being in) and I’ve thus far posted nothing about it here (a situation that I really don’t enjoy being in).  And we’ve only one performance left (Saturday! 5:30 pm!).  And it’s been wildly popular (and somewhat controversial), so it might be hard to get in (a good problem for us to have, but still a problem).  And we’re in a venue with three other wildly popular shows (hooray for the Mixed Blood!), so we’ll probably not get the Encore spot (*sniff*), and Saturday will be your last chance to see it (for really-really-real).  I know, I know (I know).

For the sake of accountability or posterity or searchability or general curiosity or perhaps just good old guilt, I present to you – See You Next Tuesday, a new play by Steve Moulds, presented by Walking Shadow Theatre Company at the 2010 Minnesota Fringe Festival.

Experience recap, reviews, and performance blunders to follow ().

(photo of Christine Weber and Sid Solomon by Dan Norman)

1. Never, EVER tell your actors to “use it.”   As in, “hey, Director, I need to keep my phone on in rehearsal today because my sibling was almost murdered and I need to keep in touch with the family regarding his progress.”  And the director replies, “of course, Leigha – and how this relates to the play, well, you know – Use It.  Use that fear to relate to your character and what she’s going through in this scene.”  That is not directing, nor is it humane.  It’s a shitty reference to a persnickety, uninspired acting method that every performer learned about in high school, and it makes you look like a grasping, idiotic director who doesn’t know common sense from his ass.  Any questions?

2.  Never give your actors line readings unless they ask for it – and even then, seriously consider your options.  If the actor isn’t getting it, then you must guide them there until they DO get it.  For example, “I want you to enter the scene, pause for a second and a half, then say the line exactly like this, and then pause before saying your next line like this” (actor says line) “no, you’re not listening, I want you to say it like THIS,” that…that is not directing, it’s jealousy.  It’s the mark of a fumbling director who actually wishes she was an actor.  If you’re starting rehearsal this way – before you’ve even worked with the actor to get him to a baseline of understanding your vision – then you’re clearly in the wrong field.

3. Read the play before you start rehearsal.  Unless it’s a brand-new work that the playwright won’t start writing until you’re all in the room together, you have no excuse.  I don’t care if you were a last-minute replacement – MAKE TIME.

4. Don’t use big words if you don’t know what they mean.  Your job is to communicate clearly.  If you are regularly misusing words, your actors will have to spend more time deciphering what it is you actually mean to say instead of doing their jobs.  And, frankly, it’s profoundly counterproductive to your goal of sounding intelligent.

5. If the play resides outside of your knowledge-base, do your homework before you start spouting off.  Or get a dramaturg and delegate.  Persians are not the same as Parisians, even though, yes, they sound similar.  Not. The. Same. When actors ask you for historical references, do not offer suggestions of completely different political/social warfare from different eras with different cultures and motives.  Doing so just showcases how clueless you really are.

Am I taking a risk by posting this?  Yes.  But I hope that by calling “foul,” I will be a constructive contributor to the ongoing director/actor dialogue.  You see, it seems that everyone and their second-cousin-twice-removed has a list of Dos and Don’ts for actors, and yet no one is willing to speak up about directors.  At least no one who still wants to work in the field.  And so here I stand – on my little internet table with my bloggy cardboard sign in my hands, held high above my head.

And honestly, it’s a little scary up here.  But it feels right.  So pull up a chair, friends, and hop on up.