Saturday 4 June 2011

A Professional Demeanor

I have a professional demeanor.

Here in London, that seems to be a dirty word.

It reads as 'disconnected', 'dispassionate', 'cold', or 'guarded'.

Whether or not I am able to bring openness and honesty to the table in my work seems to be directly linked with my ability to take direction with or without emotional volatility??

I am pretty unapologetic about my professionalism.  I am happy to try direction whether or not I agree with it.  Primarily, because I have paid $50,000 to come to school for the year under the assumption that the people that I work with have something to offer me: I feel like I would be remiss not to try something they (or a guest professional that they have brought in) suggest.  Secondly, I honestly try to keep my openness to direction in all working environments.  Just because something feels 'right' doesn't mean that (a) it is the only choice, (b) the strongest choice, or (c) that it works within the vision for this production.  If I try something and then don't agree with it, I am happy to engage in a discussion and defense of my original instinct in order to further unpick the direction that I was offered, or to search for an option that neither of us had yet considered.  But I don't feel like "I would never DO that" is a useful statement for the growth of any actor at any stage of their career.

Of course the work is personal.  It is what you create using nothing but your voice and body, your mind and heart.  It was suggested in class yesterday that working for years in this industry forces you to have a thick skin.  The amount of rejection - rejection of your voice and body, your mind and heart - is only bearable if you are able to have a certain amount of resilience.  But I see a difference in a thick skin professionally - one where you can take criticism and direction on your choices without feeling emotionally wounded....and a thick skin emotionally - one where you can no longer access the emotions that are required to share in order to create this art form.  Here, though, a professional approach seems to be thought of as an 'American' quality that is one and the same: if you have thick skin, you are emotionally unavailable.  End stop.

I defy that.

I choose to be open and willing and ready to try.  I choose to make strong choices but not be married to them.  I choose to take direction without being argumentative, or emotionally hijacked by the idea that I have been personally rejected.  I choose to allow my strength and stability, my strong sense of self to be a root source for my ability to be vulnerable.

On a personal note - nothing much has changed on the where-do-I-go-from-here front.  We finished Showcase, and although I had a brilliantly talented and generous scene partner I have no idea whether the work I created was good or not.  Every once in a while it would really get me down at the end of the day - since I am constantly faced with the ghost of the art that used to bring me such joy.  To feel disconnected from it, to be unable to feel confident in it or even clearly judge what 'works' or 'doesn't work' can be emotionally draining.  But the only way I know how to deal is to 'boot-up' and face the day.  I go in.  I do the work the best I can.  I take suggestions and criticism and advice on how to improve it.  And whether I feel it, or as is the case: not, I bring that professionalism to the table.  Things won't change because I force them to.  They won't change because I stare them down, or poke them continually, or strangle them with my desire for them to go back to the way they were.  On the positive front, I feel much more confident about my decision to head back to NYC, since I have had zero agent interest in me here.  It is a small reassurance that I was pretty accurate in my instinct that my desirability as an actor here is pretty limited.  It makes the choice so much easier.  It would be much more difficult if I was longing for home, still unsure of whether I should be an actor or not ... and had a career path opening up for me here.  Sometimes comfort comes in the strangest packages.

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