Photographer of Frivolous Affairs

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John Lukas, engineer extraordinaire at Babble-On Recording Studios, and I are embarking on a new, terribly exciting audiobook series together.  Our very first session consisted of testing out various microphones and accompanying audio gear to obtain just the right sound.  The story, in pictures*:

The engineering studio and the recording booth beyond, taken from the fancy sofas that I never get to sit on when I’m in session.

The headphones I use in the booth to hear both myself and John when he talks to me from the engineering studio.  I initially took a picture of them because John said the last person to use them was Topher Grace.  Yes, that Topher Grace.  He was in recording some promo pieces for his new movie, Take Me Home Tonight.  In case there was any concern, I can now assure the world that Topher Grace does not have head lice.

Shotgun mic.  This was our first try, and ultimately decided against it.  Not that it didn’t sound good, mind you.

Super-duper ultra-fancy expensive mic.  Gorgeous, and did I mention expensive?  We ultimately decided against this one, too.

The winner.  A Neumann condenser mic.  André, John’s boss at Babble-On and an all-around fantastic fellow, told us after the session that he’s used this mic with me before on a couple of occasions with great results.  Nothing like the joy of many minds coming to the same conclusion independently.  We’ve so got this.

This is a windscreen that we decided to ditch because we didn’t need it due to mic placement – as John so aptly put it, “just one less thing up in your grill.”

I think we toggled back and forth between a couple of pre-amps, and ultimately chose to go with this puppy.  Honestly, I’m really not sure, but the light was on when I came out of the booth, so I assumed this is what we used.  I mostly just took the photo because the light is a killer blueish-purple.  How nice of me to then covert it to black and white, right?  Whatevs, it’s become my special light and I am now very protective of it.  Okay.  Fine. Here:

Happy now?  Sheesh.  Moving on.

The first book we’re going to record.  May Futrelle was on the Titanic and survived, her husband Jacques Futrelle, also a famous novelist, did not.  I studied up on them during my stint in the Science Museum of Minnesota’s Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition portraying Nurse Evelyn Marsden.  There's no way I'm letting 200+ hours of Titanic research go to waste.

I'm working from a gorgeous first edition, printed in 1911.  The illustrations are divine.

John at work, editing out the page-turns and working his audio mastering magic via The Fastest Digits in All The Land.  Holy cajones does that guy fly!

The ultimate goal is to get these distributed via Audible, Amazon, and iTunes.  Of course we’ll let you know when they’re available, are you kidding me?  Until then…you’ll just have to settle for the joy in the anticipation.

*all shots were taken on a whim with my iPhone.  So, you know, don’t judge me on quality.  Dammit Jim, I’m an actress, not a photographer.

The One-Two Commercial Punch of HELL-to-the-YES!

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This evening brought a thrilling two-part televisual surprise: I arrived home to find the TV on, muted, with a rerun of the American version of The Office bumbling along (nothing terribly remarkable about that – but wait! There’s MORE!). TBS then broke for commercials and I was blindsided by the trailer for Rango – the new animated film starring Johnny Depp as a gecko; the very same animated film that features my longtime soul-friend Rick Garcia’s music and singing voice of the mariachi owls.

I damn near burst with pride.

And just when I thought I couldn’t have been more pleased – I noticed that the trailer was directly followed by one of my Yoplait Light yogurt commercials. I don’t do the main VO, mind you, just the tag at the end - “Find Yoplait Light cups on sale this week at your neighborhood Albertsons” (or Jewel-Osco, or Acme, or Cub, or Farm Fresh, or Shaw’s, or Kroger, or Fry’s, or King Soopers, or Smith’s or what have you).

But still! Following the incredible talent of my dearest Rick (and, of course, Johnny Depp – I mean, HELLO!) on national TV was pretty freaking sweet. And made mid-winter Minneapolis just a little bit warmer, starting with my heart.

Awwwww.

But seriously, I mean it.

Backstage on SAGIndie

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Just found this little gem of an article about SAGIndie’s involvement at Sundance this year, and what SAGIndie does in general:

"Our function is strictly to educate independent filmmakers on how to hire professional talent for independent film and to explain to them how it can be done economically."

I've reviewed the SAGIndie contracts recently and they are, quite frankly, fantastic.  And it's reassuring to learn that SAGIndie is willing to go further than just plunking down a contract on a table.

Why don’t I read Backstage on a regular basis?  Seriously – it’s kind of ridiculous all the things that I ought to do as a professional performer, yet don’t.  Being a new member of the Screen Actors’ Guild has brought on a spate of useful and surprising information.  And I’d be remiss if I didn’t say I was a little stupidly giddy about it.

2010 in Review

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End-of-year lists can be so tedious.  I know this.  And yet here we are.  Because the only thing more tedious than end-of-year lists is searching for some documentation of some thing that happened a year or two or three ago, and not being able to find anything about it because I was too lazy/tired/overjoyed/myopic/disassociated to actually write about it.  I therefore offer up this end-of-year list as a compendium of my professional shenanigans so that searching for them in the future won’t drive me crazy.  You’re welcome, Me. Be sure to thank me later. 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

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

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

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!

Tall Poppy Syndrome

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Last evening brought the first rehearsal in a three-week workshop of Casa Cushman, a new work by Tectonic Theater Project’s Leigh Fondakowski (best known for head-writing The Laramie Project), created with the help of Tectonic company members, various departments at the University of Minnesota, and The Playwrights’ Center.  It also brought cookies (which I consumed) and coffee (which I didn’t), both of which I found touching. 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

Such a Thing as an Aural Peek?

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Oh how I love me some public library.  I just ordered a slew of audio books recommended by friends, as I have somehow been on this earth without ever having listened to one that didn’t also provide chimes that alert me when I need to turn the page.  Side note - through the magic of scotch-taped tabs, the Rip Van Winkle audio-tape was the first sacrificial lamb to my homemade strawberry-shortcake-bedroom-slash-recording-studio - “take THAT, boring old white guy!”  I was five.  Cut me some slack. Anyway, I figure if I’m interested in delving into the world of long-form audio narrative, which I am, I had better do some research on what works and what doesn’t. Take an aural peek, if you will.  So a few months back I put out a request in hopes of discovering what single-narrator audio books most delighted my friends, based on the narrator’s read, not necessarily on the quality of the book in question.  And the results were many:

  • Jim Dale’s readings of the Harry Potter series (this came highly recommended by many)
  • Just about anything written and read by David Sedaris or John Hodgman
  • Sarah Vowell’s Assassination Vacation
  • Lisette Lecat’s reading of The Double Comfort Safari Club
  • Tony Horwitz’ reading of his own novel, A Voyage Long and Strange
  • Patrick Tull’s readings of the Aubrey/Machurin series
  • Ralph Fiennes’ reading of Oscar and Lucinda
  • David Tennant’s readings of the Dr. Who series

First off, I’ve gotta admit I am shocked (shocked, I tell you!) by how many of my friends listen to audio books.  Second, I was thrilled by the great response and look forward to taking a listen.  Third, I am always looking for more inspiration - so if you have any favorites, please share them in the comments here or privately via my contact form.

And fourthly, ahhhh, the unfortunate fourthly: I can’t believe I call myself a voice-over artist and haven’t listened to an audiobook since I was a little dude.  It’s embarrassing.  That’s like saying I’m a doctor, but have never looked inside somebody’s ear - except for when I used to practice on my teddy bears.  Guh.

Hello, Chosen Profession, meet Responsibility.  Being a grown-up is hard.

Facebook ate my green room

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Dudes, to the long list of grievances the world has with Facebook, I’d like to add another:  it ate my Green Room.  Yes, this very blog.  When I finally came-to in the belly of that great whale, I saw that a great majority of things I ought to be posting about here, in depth, have been summed-up into tidy little two-liners and posted on Facebook instead.  For shame. Here’s just a sampling of what had been swallowed:

August 12, 2010 :: Ro Preston just "reviewed" my show and between me and Shad, called MY character "frumpy." Seriously?! She's a working girl endlessly put-upon by a jobless jackass and SHE'S frumpy? Doesn't help my self-esteem that I wasn't *trying* to be frumpy, and those are *my* clothes.

August 15, 2010 :: our final Fringe performance yesterday brought yet another sold-out house (yay, team!). Despite doggy hospitals and people hospitals keeping me from the full experience as an audience member, it was still a good run. Nap time.

August 26, 2010 :: BBC mentioned that Sean Connery was nominated to be the Sexiest Man of the 20th Century. Personally, I'd rather get Atticus Finched than Double-Oh-Sevened any day.

September 9, 2010 :: POLL TIME! What is your favorite audio book, and why? - OR - who is your favorite audio book narrator, and why?*
[*Why ever do I ask, you ask? I'm starting research on effective narration for audio books, and want to know what resonates with listeners.]

September 17, 2010 ‎:: awesome thing #2 about today: learning that my character/dialect research is best accomplished by watching The Muppet Movie.

September 21, 2010 ‎:: going stag to the Ivey Awards was the right choice - it manifested the koala/earcalyptus treatment from Christine Weber! It awarded Shad Cooper the little-known Ivey for Best Ability to Make Leigha Blush! It won me the title "Dark Princess of the Amazon!" All in all, a fabulous evening surrounded by fabulous people. So proud of the Twin Cities theater scene. So deeply proud.

September 21, 2010 :: quick turnaround needed for a VO audition, so doing it from home this morning; trying hard to shake my sleepy morning voice.

September 22, 2010 :: yo, Twins, I'm really happy for you and I'mma let you finish, but y'all made me late for my VO gig this afternoon. Luckily, I had the best producer of all time. All time! Love to Mark for being wonderful about it. [I'm usually 15+ minutes early to these things, and I was 5 minutes late. Suck.]

September 28, 2010 :: is now a proud member of the Screen Actors Guild. Granted, it was a huge surprise this morning (holy initiation fee, bajesus!) but it was inevitable since I've been a must-join for months. Look for the Progresso Soup and Totino's Party Pizza ads on a TV near you.

October 13, 2010 :: the only thing that gives me more hives than calculus? Scripts wherein I have to learn absurdly long monologues about calculus. If this were David Auburn's "Proof," I'd be okay with it. But it's not. It's so very, very not. GAG.

So now that leighahorton.com is all brand-new and shiny (have you looked yet?!  DO!  There’s so much more to see and hear!  Photos!  Videos!  Audio clips!), it also comes with the promise of better communication.  Pinkie-swear.  Now, who wants to help me get the plankton out of my hair?

See You Next Tuesday (and some parentheticals)

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I have, yet again, been terribly remiss (what’s new, pussycat?). 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)

Five Golden Rules for Stage Directors

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Now, none of these things should have to be said.  They just shouldn’t.  We work in a field of usually intelligent, well-informed, compassionate people and yet here we are.  Why?  Because I have witnessed all of these indiscretions - whether they were directed at me (number one) or whether they were directed at a colleague (number two), or whether I was in a cast subjected to them (numbers three through five).  So listen up, all y'all who wield the big, powerful director stick: 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.

I'll Only Get The Audition When...

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...I’ve done something to my body that I can’t hide. Several months ago I was between shows and figured it would be an excellent time to try out a new mehndi design on my hand.  Mehndi, for the unindoctrinated, is the art of painting on the skin with henna - a natural plant-based dye.  The practice is rooted in Africa, India, and the Middle East, and used on the skin to create temporary tattoo-like designs or to dye the hair or scalp, usually for wedding ceremonies and the like.  Or if you’re me, it’s used to create designs on the skin that last a good two-plus weeks with no hope of getting them to fade early, no matter what you try.

Now, I am no stranger to mehndi.  I implemented my first design in the summer of 2008:

And I loved it.  The process is slow and meditative, and something I thoroughly enjoy if I have loads of time and can limit movement to allow for everything to dry properly.  The result is, to me, a secret delight - it’s usually hidden by footwear, but one can catch glimpses around the edges of my mary-janes if they’re looking hard enough.

So I happened to have loads of time, a good book, and some bravado available one day, and decided it was time to give it another go, this time on my hand.  Far more bold, far more daring; my own little joy and a temporary eff-you to societal norms.  And achieved a rather striking result:

Which would have been juuuuust fine, had it not been for two things:

1) I stupidly didn’t realize how much I talk with my hands - especially when giving science demonstrations at the museum. File that one under “Horton, Duh.”  And as we’re all well-aware, little dudes like to ask questions about things they don’t understand in loud voices.  So in an effort to be encouraging of constructive dialogue about differences, I ended up explaining the science of henna as often as I explained the importance of surface area in chemical reactions.

2) the call I got from my agent the next week, requesting I audition for the lead in a new network sitcom pilot (more about this in another post).  You see, the thing with henna is that when it fades, it doesn’t do so uniformly - so when it gets to a certain point of faded-ness, one looks like a burn victim and unintentionally alarms the kindly, beloved casting director.

And thus the lesson I learned the hard way is this: not all of us have the privilege of outwardly flying our freak flags.  Therefore, I must keep it (whatever “it” happens to be after any given flight of fancy) in a place where it can be covered.  Even if it’s only temporary.  Bah.

So What is it, Exactly, we're Doing Here?

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When I started this blog over five years ago things were very, very different.  Well, mostly different.  I was planning on shipping off to New York for grad school (that’s still on the to-do list, but it’s much more complicated now); I was working full-time in order to support my theater habit; I hadn’t yet set foot in a recording studio; and I was young and thin and bodacious and ready to conquer the world with my self-described Mad Acting Skillz.  This blog was meant to be my marketing machine - it would get me loads of gigs and I would be rich and famous and living The Dream. Since then I’ve settled down rather dramatically - I still live in Minneapolis and I have an organic kitchen garden and a bird feeder in the backyard. Not bad things, but not where I saw myself in five years, five years ago. I am now a full-time actress; I am well-acquainted with recording studios; I am no longer young and thin (have thankfully retained relative-bodaciousness, and working hard to regain once-held thin-ity); I am not rich nor famous, but I am living the dream.  Small t, small d - it's a different dream, after all.

So if this blog isn’t about acting as an everything’s-perfect-rah-rah-rah-please-make-me-famous platform, then what is it?  It’s still about my experiences, but it’ll include more of the scandalous (have I mentioned I am so over covering for shit directors who wield too much power and not enough intelligence, or for that matter, tact?).  It’ll also be a compendium for things performance-related that I find interesting or inspiring and want to share with anyone who is willing to join me on the journey.  And it’ll be a place that allows more than 140 characters (I’m looking at you, Twitter) and more than 420 characters (ahem, Facebook).  And because I wish more people would do the same.

Viva la sala verde!

Worst Line Reading Ever

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This here tidbit (after months and months of silence, for shame) has dual purpose: 1) To see if I've properly figured out how to embed videos in blog entries;

2) To advise you that I'm coming back, and with a soupçon of snark no less.  You see, I just had me a birthday and realized that I will probably never ever play the ingenue again.  And hell, being a yes-girl was terribly boring.  So let's see what kind of critters go a-crittering when I rustle the shrubs a bit, shall we?

Enjoy!

An Actor Prepares (Her Taxes)

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Taxes. Bleh. I’m not going to wax poetic about the royal pain in the hoo-ha that is filing taxes every year - especially actor taxes that come in the form of a slew of W-2s and 1099s, a kajillion itemized deductions, and a bevy of industry-specific tax questions that tend to escape the expertise of the average tax preparer. Instead, I plan to arm you with the best resources I have: ONE - Fox Tax. These fellows know their business. They know artists. They specialize in artists. They’re affordable to artists.

TWO - Actor’s Tax Tips. Free! A brand spankin’-new blog by local actor and tax whiz and all-around responsible and intelligent guy, Mark Bradley.

THREE - The Actor’s Tax Guide. Not free! But totally worth it! Chock-full of industry-specific tax info for you, handy-dandy worksheets, organizational advice, AND tax-deductible! By the aforementioned Mark Bradley. And he’s local, so if he steers you wrong, you “know where to find him.”

FOUR - Backstage.com’s Actors’ Assets. I just found these articles today when looking up what it means to be a “Qualified Performing Artist.” They’re well written and quite informative. I must say, though, $16,000 cap on your adjusted gross income?! What a joke. Too bad “Qualified Performing Artist” and “Successful Performing Artist” seem to be mutually exclusive.

If you, too, have a little bundle of actor tax preparation secrets up your sleeve, by all means, do share. Misery does love its company, does it not?

January Noise

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Startin’ off the year in fine vocal form - ten more voice-over spots for radio, six more for TV.  All in all, that makes for a grand total of 34 voiceover spots recorded in December and January alone.  Whee! Wait - just wait - before you start making plans to roll me on my way to the gym tomorrow - know that this is merely preventing a personal economageddon (to make up for the slim 15 hours per week I’ll be performing at the museum until the start of the Dead Sea Scrolls exhibition mid-March).  Therefore, there will not be any extra cash on my person.  And we’ll have to cancel the order for Cristal.

We cool now?  Good.  Until it’s lottery-induced party time, sooth thyself with these here dulcet tones:

[audio: http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/ParentAwareRatings30.mp3] ParentAwareRatings.org :30 ParentAwareRatings.org Recorded at Babble-On

[audio: http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/ParentAwareRatings60.mp3] ParentAwareRatings.org :60 ParentAwareRatings.org Recorded at Babble-On

[audio: http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/StKatesradioInterviewJan2010.mp3] St. Catherine University: Interview :60 (Jane) St. Catherine University Recorded at Babble-On

(audio coming soon) Home Shows: Washington, D.C.; Buffalo, NY; Orlando, FL; Jacksonville, FL; Denver, CO; Indianapolis, IN Marketplace Events Recorded at Audio Ruckus

And, as always, remember you can listen to the whole shebang (most stuff I’ve done over the past couple of years) via VoiceZam.

Bon Voyage

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There is a swirling fog of sadness and loss that sometimes accompanies the delicate act of disentangling from a character. Miss Evelyn Marsden, the nurse aboard the Titanic, provided leagues of inspiration and provoked endless curiosity about the ship, her business aboard it, and her all-too-short life thereafter. While it was my duty to portray her in interactions with museum visitors as part of Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition at the Science Museum of Minnesota, I did so only in name, dialect, and in recounting of daily shipboard life. I learned from more than two hundred hours of research and beautiful letters written by her cabin-mate Miss May Sloan, and Evelyn’s husband, Dr. William Abel James, that she was kind, sensitive, grateful, and beloved. After six months and hundreds of thousands of visitors, I only wish I have given her the portrayal she deserved.

The ship officially sunk Sunday night and will stay that way. Bon voyage, dear Titanic. Goodnight, dear crew. Rest in sweet peace Evelyn Marsden.  Thank you for lending me your story.

A Little Something for The Show-Me State

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The previous post here at the greenroom involved me doing a whole lotta tootin' my own horn, but not so much tootin' of the finished products.  So I'm here to remedy that. Missouri would be proud. In relative order of recording, here are some of my spots from 2009:

[audio:http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/HomeShow_Denver_radio_60.mp3] Denver Home Show with Ty Pennington Marketplace Events* Recorded at Audio Ruckus

[audio:http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/HomeShow_Philly_30.mp3] Philadelphia Home Show with Ty Pennington Marketplace Events* Recorded at Audio Ruckus

*There are a kajillion of these spots in both TV and radio format for locations all over the U.S. I was hoping to post some of my better reads in cooler markets (hello, DC! hello, New York!), but a certain production house wasn't very interested in e-mailing me the spots, regardless of kind, timely requests. *ahem*

[audio:http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/ACME.mp3] ACME: Spring Savings Supervalu Recorded at Babble-On

Okay - now that you've heard the ACME spot, I should warn you that the rest of these "Grocery Store: Spring Savings" spots are nearly identical. Feel free to skip right on down to the Caribou Coffee spots and resume listening there.

[audio:http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/Albertsons.mp3] Albertsons: Spring Savings Supervalu Recorded at Babble-On

[audio:http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/Biggs.mp3] Biggs: Spring Savings Supervalu Recorded at Babble-On

[audio:http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/CUB.mp3] CUB: Spring Savings Supervalu Recorded at Babble-On

[audio:http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/Hornbachers.mp3] Horbachers: Spring Savings Supervalu Recorded at Babble-On

[audio:http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/Jewel_Osco.mp3] Jewel-Osco: Spring Savings Supervalu Recorded at Babble-On

[audio:http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/CaribouCoffee_RippingMonday.mp3] Caribou Coffee: Ripping + Happy Monday Caribou Coffee Recorded at Babble-On

[audio:http://www.leighahorton.com/docs/audio/OldElPaso_Mariachi.mp3] Old El Paso: Mariachi General Mills Recorded at Babble-On

And as luck would have it, I've already recorded a few spots for other clients this month, but those in the new year merit a new post. You'll just have to come back later. Aren't I a tease?

Or hell, you could just visit VoiceZam to hear a more comprehensive selection of my voice-overs to date.  Plenty of stuff is left out for various nefarious reasons (audio is tied to the video and I don't feel like futzing with that whole process, never got a copy from the engineer, sound quality is "meh," my read = "no likey," etc.), but there's a fine sampling of my wares.  Be warned that the damn thing auto-plays as soon as you open the link - probably not the stealthiest way to slack off at work.

2009 In Review

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Oh dearest 2009, how I neglected to give you a proper adieu. But because I always need to have the last word, your shenanigans shall not go untouted nor unscathed. This here is my farewell parting shot: The past year brought a load of work, a load of appreciation for the work I was getting, and one giant, lazy attitude toward writing about it.  Of particular note, midway through 2009 I was able to make a return to performing for a living.  “What?  What do you mean?    Actresses in the Twin Cities aren’t filthy stinking rich and famous?!”  Surprisingly, no, not so much.  See, periodically a girl like me is obliged to suck it up and take a part-time “day job” to keep some steady cash rolling in while filling in the rest with voice-overs and stage work.  What is this world coming to?

What happened was this: in June I was cast as Nurse and First-Class Stewardess Evelyn Marsden in Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition at the Science Museum of Minnesota, as well as joined the museum’s Science Live Theater cast. When at the museum, but not in 1912 costume, I bust out my mad knowledge of nanoscience to thwart an Evil Scientist From The Future, as well as demonstrate the important properties of surface area by blowing giant fireballs and discussing chemical reactivity.  It has been a joy to perform regularly for the (what by now must be) thousands of audience members taking an interest in science.  Additionally, I am responsible for coordinating and moderating public forums for adults about nanoscale science on behalf of NISE Net (Nanoscale Informal Science Education Network).  Moreover, it’s less than part-time, and voice-overs and stage work really ARE filling in the rest.  Even in this wretchedly hobbled economy.  My stars are indeed lucky.  And I thank them regularly.

So here, for posterity, are my performance highlights of 2009:

January Marketplace Events spots - Ty Pennington (that dude from Extreme Makeover: Home Edition) and me on TV and radio urging you to attend particular home shows here and there in the U.S.  TV commercials aired on HGTV and ABC and their affiliates.  Read more about my sister's hilarious request.

February Nothing of note - sometimes that’s a good thing.  Looks like I was in rehearsal.  Not always a good thing.

March

  • Performances of Adam Szymcowicz’s The Captivity Plays at the Bryant Lake Bowl
  • After 18 months of pain in the form of oral torture, treatment was completed and my braces were removed.  I was rewarded with awesomely perfect teeth and new-found confidence.  Join me in reliving my happy dance.
  • Supervalu spots - radio spots for grocery stores around the U.S. - Albertson’s, Lucky, Supervalu, Shaw’s/Star Market, Cub Foods, Jewel-Osco, Kroger, Hornbacher’s, etc.

April Nexxus spots - I don’t believe these were ever aired - just voice-overs for a concept by the ad agency for the client.  If it was approved by the client, the agency would then film 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.

May

June

  • Caroline or Change, The Homosexuals’ Guide to the Universe, Tiny Kushner - now these didn’t involve me at all, save for my presence in the audience.  But I found the first two to be incredibly moving, incredibly powerful pieces of work.  And I was thrilled that Minneapolis was able to honor such a fantastic playwright in this way, and that such a fantastic playwright got to workshop a brand-new play in our fine city.
  • Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition opens at the Science Museum of Minnesota.  This is my new “day job” wherein I get to spend part of my weekdays engaging with the general public and informing them about Miss Evelyn Marsden’s life and the hospitals aboard the ship in a darling English accent. Personal ship preparation stories here.
  • United Health Care spots - my first political spots, something about calling your congresspeople somewhere in New England. Connecticut maybe? Urging you to take a particular stand on some kind of health care legislation.  Don’t remember the particulars, but got to work with the guys at Shout.  And I absolutely adore Mark Benninghofen, so it was a joy.

July Joined the Science Museum of Minnesota to work on NISE Net (Nanoscale Informal Science Education Network) projects - both performing live stage plays and demonstrations that deal directly with nanoscale science, as well as coordinating and facilitating adult public forums about nanoscale science.  This is only 10 hours per week, and I love it.  And it makes me feel a little closer to my scientific heroes of audio over at RadioLab.  And to paraphrase the words of my delightfully brilliant colleague Michael Ritchie: I realize that my day job can never be bad, because I work in a place with musical stairs.

August

  • Fringe Festival fail - this was hard.  This was very, very hard.  The Ministry of Cultural Warfare, the company I have both figuratively and literally sweat and bled for since 2000, planned to do a show.  Due to a Perfect Storm of really crappy circumstances, I had to remove myself from the process, and we ultimately had to back out of the festival at a late date.  It was heartbreaking, and the fallout was equally heartbreaking.
  • Marketplace Events radio and TV spots - the plus side of August was that Ty Pennington had some more home shows to promote, so it was back into the studio to add my special female aural sparkle.
  • The Minnesota State Fair - I spent an afternoon as host of the Labor Pavilion at “The Great Minnesota Get-Together.”  They gave me a wireless mic, put me in a Green building and the adjacent pavilion, and let me loose amongst the various Labor kiosks and the throngs of fair-goers.  There was trivia, there were hand-crafted on-the-spot copper roses, there were nurses and flight attendants and machinists and steel workers and everything in between.  At the end of my shift, they snapped a photo which made its way into the national AFTRA magazine.

September I spent nearly half the month on the road, traveling to Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco - this was for my work with the Science Museum of Minnesota on behalf of the Nanoscale Informal Science Education Network (NISE Net), and it was incredibly inspiring.  It did indeed involve some performing, but it also involved meeting with social scientists to consider the social, political, and ethical implications of nanoscale science, and how to get audiences considering these aspects, as well.  We also met for the purpose of setting goals for years 6-10 of NISE Net’s grant funded by the National Science Foundation, and it involved learning how other organizations engage audiences in learning about nanoscale science.  Inspiring, and the locations were fantastic.  I love the Pacific Northwest.

October Lead role of Hannah in Table Salt Productions' inaugural show, Burned at the Gremlin Theatre.  Nothing like spending an hour before each performance putting glue on my face, letting it dry and manipulating it and coloring it to make it look like nasty scar tissue.  While it was a serio-comic post-apocalyptic tale, it was a joy to make a foray back into dramatic work.  Read a little more about it.

November

  • Workshop and public reading of Dog and Wolf - an incredibly well-crafted, powerful,  and riveting play about a Bosnian refugee by Catherine Filloux, in which I played the lead, Jasmina.  This play is being produced Off-Broadway this February.
  • My first public nanoscience forum about privacy, civil liberties, and nanotechnology.  It was a small group of about 15 people, but helped me get my feet wet.  Now that I’ve done something in the accepted mold, I can hack it and make it more interesting, accessible, and engaging.  Watchout Twin Cities - you’re about to get schooled in nano.

December

  • more Marketplace Events spots - this time for home shows around the U.S. in 2010.
  • Caribou Coffee spots - The tone and delivery in these spots makes me feel like we’re sitting on a front porch swing, lazing the day away.  And they’re all about handcrafted oatmeal.  And I got to spend some good time with my friends over at Babble-On Recording studios.  I love those engineers.
  • General Mills spots for Tuesday Taco Night - you know you’ve made it when your VOs keep getting interrupted by a mariachi band.  Plus more time at Babble-On!  Whee!

Plenty to share for January already - but it’s a new year, so it gets a new post.  Here’s looking forward to a peaceful, prosperous 2010.  And I'll actually work on getting all of these 2009 (and future) voice-over spots posted for your listening pleasure.  It's not as hard as I make it sound, and yet here we are.  Soon, I promise.

Burned

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Burned_Poster_Final

I ought to go back to my resume and actually verify this, but I’m pretty sure it’s been a decade since I’ve played a dramatic role in a dramatic play - Queen Gertrude in a gender-bent version of Hamlet in college, directed by my favorite old salt, the recently departed George Poletes.  I loved that man.  Alright, hang on, a decade?! - that really can’t be true (searching resume) No!  Wait!  I played the lead in Behind a Mask for Hardcover Theater in (searching internet) 2004.  Thank you, internets!  So it’s only been half a decade.  Phew.  And by the way, I loved those plays - period costumes, wooing men in order of societal importance, deception, intrigue - delightful nefariousness!

But to my point: half a decade?!  Good lord.  That Comedy, she is a jealous mistress.  So either I could frame my present production as dusting off an old photograph - a little brittle, a little yellowed; or I could frame this as the whatever-it-is-that-makes-some-wines-awesome-with-age awesomening.  The goal is the latter.  Regardless of frame, me doing drama = rare bird.  So come see.

You’ve two weekends filled with eight performances left.  Even a show on Halloween if you’re like me and dress up for a living, so don’t really think much of Halloween and only get in costume if people pay you.  Ooooooo.....apocaaaaaalypse......spooooooooky!

For tickets and show information, visit Table Salt Productions.  For a barrel of monkeys post-show, visit me.

Art and Fear and Having a Genius

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Several months ago Jason Kottke made mention of a book titled Art and Fear.  One particular allegory in this book struck me deeply, and the sting of shock and self-recognition remains - the story goes thusly:

At the beginning of the semester, a pottery instructor divided his class into two halves.  Each student in the first half was going to be graded solely on volume – the instructor didn’t care about the quality of the pieces, he just wanted as many complete pieces as possible.  The other half of the class was going to be graded solely on quality – each student had the entire semester to complete one perfect piece.

At the end of the semester the students who were graded on quantity had multiple perfect and near-perfect pieces in their vast collections, while those who were graded on quality ended up with only mediocre and good results.  Those who were in the quantity group made mistakes, learned from them, refined their work, and kept producing.  Those who were in the quality group analyzed and planned and got stuck in their heads, and were ultimately paralyzed by their self-imposed restrictions (they didn’t want to waste time making a load of work and choosing the best from that – they needed to focus their energy solely on THE ONE).

Huh.  The quality group mentality sounds embarrassingly familiar.  Who doesn’t follow through on most of her artistic ideas for fear of failure?  Who doesn’t take risks and try new ventures for fear of failure?  Who stops the execution of ideas before she even starts them for fear of failure?  Me.  Me, me, me.  I am outright terrified of failing myself, terrified of learning that I'm not good at something I love; terrified of letting people bear witness to my weaknesses.  I understand full well that performing on stage is ephemeral and a living, breathing organism that changes based upon any number of factors – but in all endeavors, not just the stage, I want to take comfort that I worked hard and know my shit.  I want to be confident that I’ll succeed.

So if I can’t be assured that I’ll succeed, I should just stay home, right?  Artistic Paralysis - 1; Leigha - 0.  With that mentality, the art dies.  The ideas die.  It’s like shooting a foal because it can’t run immediately after it’s born.  Yes, my art is a little baby horse, and I kill multiple little baby horses daily.  Ideas that could fail?  chik-chik, ka-BLAM.  Wrong. So terribly wrong.

Thankfully, there are some artists who have made it beyond the killing fields and lived to tell about it.  There is hope beyond little baby idea carcasses.  Imagine that.

Elizabeth Gilbert, for one - the author of Eat, Pray, Love - gave a fascinating speech at this year’s TED Talks about changing our vocabulary from “being a genius” to “having a genius.”  It’s taking the pressure off of people and placing it on the work – no need for constant perfection, just a need to go forth and artistically multiply.  To be fruitful in one’s work, to try new approaches, to learn, to experiment, to revise, to explore, to revise again, to feel fulfilled in the process, and to let the work be what it is intended to be.  Nothing more, nothing less.

The director of my present production, Burned, is another.  His approach has lent itself beautifully to my tippy-toeing back to dramatic works - it’s been nearly a decade since I’ve done stagework with an overarching serious tone and this water is a wee bit chilly.  Sean’s advice to begin a renewal of trust - trust in myself and trust in the process, allowing the product find its own way, has been a gift.  It’s okay to be ugly, it’s okay to make grand mistakes, it’s okay to grope until I find my way.  The director is there to walk with me and encourage me in the right direction, to shape my work in a way that fits the vision.  My internal director can go suck it.