Felicity Go Lightly

I have just finshed the first of the three stories featured in Flaubert's "The Tales" I'm not sure if I'm supposed to pity, trivialize, judge, or simply experience the journey of a certain Felicity in Flaubert's A Simple Heart. I realize that, not unlike, many many pieces of literature, I find myself saddened almost to the point of disgust by the unfortunate turn of events that happen to those humble characters that pop up, pluck your heart strings and then falter all in a nice tidy venue such as a short story or novella.

Oddly, at times I found Felicity to be equally as frustrating as I did Holly in Capote's Breakfast at Tiffany's. Both are women who live a tragic existence. Felicity is a victim of class as much as Holly. Fortunately for Holly she can hide her inner self by using charm, charisma and sexual liberation. Poor Felicity is a simple girl, whose joys in life are approved and supplied by those around her. Sadly, they have little feeling for her. Her lot is to live from day to day and serve others with no regard for self. Being religious, she is able to do this with little desire for more. Considered Flaubert's answer to the critics that said he had no "heart" and to impress his friend George Sands, this story is one sad collection of poor judgment, bad timing, self-flagellation and all around class consciousness.

This is not to say that I did not enjoy it, I found it quite advanced for its time. Written in the mid 1870's it features an efficient use of words and phrasing and is just descriptive enough of those things that the reader truly needs to know. It also features a great mechanism by which a parrot becomes the surrogate partner that the heroine can turn to and find all comfort required. Her continual sense of loss pulls at you to the point, where I found myself just wishing she would shake herself loose of her conditioned state of suppliant behavior or just pass away. When death comes to her, it is over in a about a page in a half and I couldn't help but find myself truly relieved. Not as a reader, but out of sympathy to Felicity.

Perhaps the best device of all is the use of both flashback and foreshadowing while also providing an ironic, yet true sense of comedy to her final moment. As she approaches a proverbial "light" she sees a large parrot in the place of the usual St. Peter. I thought this was great, clever, funny and true form.

David Copperfield, A Night at the Theater, and Rejecting the Siren’s Call

David Copperfield
I am now at the halfway point of Dickens’ most personal and autobiographical novel. I have always been a huge Dickens fan and was particularly taken by this book when I first dove into it. Sadly, as I am at the 300 page mark, I am still quite invested, but find that “life” outside of his mid 19th century take on it, is making it hard for me to give it the attention it deserves. There are still some resounding stark prophetic moments that keep me very much interested as to what will happen next. The unfortunate thing is that I may be sitting on this novel for the remainder of the calendar year.

Screenplays for the Stage
I saw the opening night of a very intriguing original script this past Sunday. It was a relatively strong cast led by the protagonist who did an outstanding job in a difficult journey. His strength of craft carried him through the more difficult moments of the story, while his grounded, honest presence added a rich quality to the scripts stronger moments. The female lead was usually weak, considering that so many shows feature strong women and weak men. The 3rd character was involved in a bold creation of an antagonistic, yet liberating force. I felt that it was another case of a playwright writing for the screen. Perhaps not the entire script, but much of it was cut as a screenplay would be, save for the extended moments of dialogue.

What You Want When You Don’t Want It
I was offered a chance to understudy not one, but two plays at one of the most important theater houses in the DC Metro area and due to my recent difficulty at work (transitioning a new assistant while awaiting the arrival of a new supervisor as well as a new division VP) I opted out of this wonderful opportunity. I was proud to be offered a chance, but, again, I had to remind myself: I am not here for that. I know I did the right thing, but I hope that opportunities like this present themselves again in one for or the other

Miracle of Magical Realism

I have finished my journey through One Hundred Years of Solitude. Where do I begin? After all the hype of friends, critics and scholars, I must agree that it was amazing. The role every character plays in the big picture. The recurring themes; the choices of a family of a community and the consequences, accidental, beautiful, maddening, fatal and otherwise sum up the experience of mankind. I don’t think a person can set out to write such a far reaching narrative and actually achieve it the way that Marquez has. I am sure the months and months of preparation and outlining was so that he could achieve this vision, but I am not sure if he actually intended the magical result and almost universal acclaim. As a young writer I can fully appreciate one’s goals and dreams of developing something new and original or even simply building upon an extant style or genre, no matter how proven or unproven the playing field. The most reassuring aspect of the whole process is that he literally saw the town and the family as he listened to the stories of his grand parents. He was writing from what he saw from what he heard. He listened to others and this fueled his imagination and need to tell the story of Macondo and the Buendia family.

I flirt with the fuel and wrestle with the need to tell so many stories, but they are born of pure speculation. Often my research helps me create something more “true”, but I hesitate because I have rarely been able to make any story I tell my own. Not my own story as much as my own take. The author’s perspective is always clear, subtle, refined, perhaps even without judgment, but still it is there. These descriptions alone define the author’s perspective. In short, to have none is still to have one. Marquez has influenced generations of writers and I must say that his embrace of magical realism is one that resonates very much with this reader. I have explored this style on and off for years and have often fallen short in my understanding. After having read a master, I feel like I do understand how to do it well. I now have a very clear path in front of me. I have more fuel and the fumes are tickling my senses more than ever!

50 Pages of Solitude

After finishing a gift copy of Love in the Time of Cholera, I found that many of my friends who had read it immediately suggested that I read One Hundred Years of Solitude. Many suggested quite simply that this was his masterpiece. I now sit on the precipice of finishing this magnificent book. I took a break almost quite literally at the half way point as I was preparing for auditions and then suddenly found myself distracted by the Unbearable Lightness of Being. I have now returned and the words leap off the pages with a comfortable spiral of images and “old friends”. I had no idea how attached I had become to this characters and how much I had already learned about them.

I must admit that as I round the last fifty, I was a bit of a hard sell at first. Yes, I would admit it was a brilliant book. Yes, I would say that it is a landmark piece of text. However, I did not find myself anything other than curious about the book and how it was constructed. Now as I near the end, I find myself dreading the inevitable closing of the sprung paperback and the often fruitless attempts to recommend it to others.

As I near the end all I can say is that it is a bible. It is an allegory, it is a collection of myths and fantasy and every bit as magical as a Rowling or a Tolkien story. I am truly fascinated as to how this story ends. I will see it soon. There will be final reflections upon conclusion.

Immediate Reflections – The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Light vs. Heavy and the meaning of Kitsch are two strong themes in Kundera’s modern masterpiece. I must admit that although I was thoroughly enjoying his writing style it wasn’t until I was about ¾ into the novel that it finally occurred to me that this was indeed a masterpiece. I am now very to track down a copy of another one of his titles The Book of Laughter and Forgetting.

The way that he weaves his commentary about his characters as well as adding “forgotten” elements of their stories did not shake me as a reader as much at it made me feel even more voyeuristic. I felt like the characters were subjected to an almost hostile examination by not only us, but by their creator. In fact, I might suggest that Kundera did not necessarily create these people as much as he stumbled across them, recognized their yearning and successfully described their inner monologues. The relationships resonated with me in a thick and often disturbing way. I found that I could relate quite easily with both females and one of the males, but Tomas, the principal male, was hard for me to identify with. As the novel unfolds I find myself able to relate to his experience as well as the others. It is fortunate for me that by the last few pages of the book I was able to indentify with each character, including the Karenin.

Perhaps the single most disconcerting element of the whole reading experience was that I made inevitable parallels to my personal life. I could not help but trying to see my partner in certain characters and myself in others. For the most part this was simply a healthy transference, but I found it a little disheartening when there were certain moments in the novel involving certain characters that I could readily identify with. These were not moments of strength, but moments of frailty and insecurity.

I am now attacking the second half of One Hundred Years of Solitude. I love this book as well and have found myself missing a certain number of those characters and have become increasingly curious as to the resolution of the story.

You Keep Knocking

Acting

I have just had the honor of being asked to join a cast, but I decided not to take advantage of their offer. I am enjoying my time off of the stage and also am pursuing projects for the early fall. My only regret is not being able to work with two, if not more, superbly outstanding actors. Actors who I have seen perform and would be thrilled to learn from. This being said, the idea of sitting this one out, puts me at ease.

I have an audition for a small company coming up on Saturday and I’m preparing for this with focus and zeal. It is hard to predict the outcome; however, I am hoping that I am beginning to fall back into a zone or preparation, execution and follow-up.

An associate has forwarded a good number of local agent contacts and I plan on submitting my headshot and resume for their consideration. I had an agent when I was in Chicago and I realize that this is often solid, somewhat rewarding, work. This brings up something that I need to address. I have a bit of a mop on my head so I need to consider one of two things: A hair cut or some updated headshots.

Writing
I have begun to rewrite I Watch the Morning and have just completed the second draft of We Will be Here Forever. As exercises it is very important that I follow through on these and at least have them read by others for critiquing purposes. I need to take that “next step” as a writer and solicit feedback. Also, I simply need to finish the projects that I start. (See previous blog).

When The Minimum is Maximized

One of my biggest creative obstacles is finding the courage to finish what I have started. I shortchange the product, by not allowing it to be fully realized. Over the years I have started and explored several mediums and styles of creativity. Often the result is exercises that remain incomplete. Many should stay that way, but many are cheated their full potential by my insistence that the process of beginning an outline or drafting a sketch or preparing the story is all that is required. Many of my fragmentary projects are the seeds of things that may promise great fruit.

I began a series of very short films just about ten months ago. The original idea was to use whatever tools I had available; actors, cameras, locations, etc. and make the most of them. I tagged these as exercises in “maximizing the minimum”. I had been in front of the camera just enough to realize that I had a desire to learn more about the actual film making. I used what resources I had and commenced on a project. The project grew out of several movement and camera experiments I did on the roof of an apartment building. An actor moved toward and away from my cell phone camera and I recorded him to see what effects could be obtained. After about three weeks I had outlined a story and embarked on a series of three short films built around the camera’s limitations and a central theme.

The story is somewhat convoluted and was really only secondary to teaching how to tell a story, film, edit, block, light, etc. The resulting project is entitled Behold a Great Warrior. As I finished the third film and then had to reedit it, I found my self basically bored with the story. I realized quite simply that I was not interested in pursuing the final chapter and phase of the operation. The goal was to finish the three short films and then fold them into one comprehensive piece. It turned out that four films were needed in total. At this point, I have finished three and the fourth is in the early stages of development. The final piece is only an idea at this point.

It is difficult for me to revisit my early experiments without wanting to redo them. Also, it is hard for me to find the vigor to follow through with the original plan and actually finish the product. My producer has encouraged me to finish the final segment. After careful consideration, I feel that it is indeed best to finish this series. I am anxious to begin something far better drafted, sketched, rehearsed and executed, but there’s still much to be learned and that was the original intent of these films anyway. Despite all my life experiences and wisdom I still find myself distracted by the “new cool idea” and the next thing I know, I am headed down that path, my undiagnosed ADD prodding me into fulfilling new directions!

The Hight Stakes of Knowing Who You Are Likely to Be

I have been given the opportunity to audition for the Shakespeare Theatre Company. My second tenure here in DC has afforded me the chance to demonstrate that I have grown as an actor. Receiving an invite from the STC is one of the great benefits of my new maturity and this “second time around”. I have prepared two pieces and have been coached by my recent director and advised by friends of the best way to execute these monologues. One thing I have tried to do is realize who I am likely to be cast as. I do this based on, well, what I have been cast as lately.

Types

While I was finishing up in Chicago I discovered that I was falling into an interesting type. I was cast, not one, two, three, or four, but FIVE times as a man who was in denial of his true sexuality. Some of these roles were “roles of a lifetime”. Some were “not so much”. I never questioned my own sexuality, but became frustrated with getting the same type of character over and over again. Looking back I now realize that I never had it some good! I was lucky that a type found me and therefore I had found my type.

Now, as I have aged and possibly become more at ease as a performer I find myself having shifted into a new type. Picture the “boy next door gone WRONG”. I’m the bad guy with a friendly face. I have been lucky enough to play several roles on both film and stage that fit this description. So, based on what others perceive me as, when casting, and what I tend to excel at, I am trying to embrace monologues that show me at my best and my most likely.

It has taken a while to come to grips with the fact that I will not get the character types that I wish I could do. I may come close, but there are roles that I will not be a first choice for and this is something that still haunts me a little, but just knowing where I stand gives me a great deal of power. I focus my energies in the probable direction. Like and athlete reserving energy for when they truly need it, I can now “know” when to fight for that role and when to tell myself: “I’m not what they are looking for”. And instead of providing myself with a self preserving mantra I can assert this as simply a statement of fact. That is comforting.

Borrowed and Stolen

I must admit that my reading always leads me into a dangerous direction. I don't have the fear that once I read a brilliantly told story I will discover that I have "nothing to say". I actually decide that I want to tell my story as brilliantly as this person has. I am inspired by good art no matter what the source or medium. I am digging deeper into The Unbearable Lightness of Being and am now finding myself on two interesting fronts.

• Front 1

The first front involves my identifying with all three of the central characters. Their individual characteristics are presented to me the reader in such a way that I can clearly understand each of them. This is one of the few books that I see myself in each of them. That being said, I am still only about 1/3 the way through and have many more discoveries to make.

• Front 2

I just finished the first draft of "We Will Be Here Forever" and I find that, although it is probably a form of self flattery, I am lifting a bit of the style of Mr. Kundra. Granted I am not trained and am putting together an awkward mosaic of sorts, but his influence has not only inspired me, but has influenced me. In fact I am inspired to try and broaden my palette by actually trying tackle areas of writing that are historically difficult for me. I am excited to be challenged in this way.

The Tragedy is Done

Closing

The Oresteia closed this weekend. It was a whirlwind run that peaked about mid run and delivered some of the more intense reviews on both sides of the fence and offered many actors a chance to push themselves further than they have ever been pushed before. I found myself to be surprisingly calm amidst the emotions of the run. There were ego flairs and doubts about the process, there were attacks on character and overworked crew and cast. The end result, however, was a show that allowed for artists to be artists. Each artisan was allowed to do their job. We had a great directing team that offered a variety of experiences from their many backgrounds of training. I leave this process a little sad, a little relieved, but mainly proud of whom I have become as an actor and as a person. I weathered my own doubts in a very efficient and productive way. I will miss individuals and the process, but the piece was completed and it was truly finished on Sunday.

New Tasks

As an artist I am now faced with the actor’s follow-up questions: What next? Where do I go? I have two auditions coming up and I am very much looking forward to doing them and doing them well. Also, my writing projects are now going to be underway full force, not to mention my continued reading of the many books that have been loaned to me and that I have started, but not yet finished. There will be a rush of completed reads and projects coming on soon.

Film Making

Lastly, the final installment in my film series, Behold a Great Warrior is due to be completed rather soon. Also, I have a USB cable for my cell phone and plan to create and edit a new cell phone film short. I expect to have something on the web, by the end of June.