Last week I had the most terrific Christmas present ever. I booked a gig on the hot new FOX sitcom, The Mindy Project. It was answered prayer and a true blessing.
It was as if all of the stars aligned. First, the audition went well. I even got a parking place right in front of the casting office. Then, within two days, I was booked and the next day I worked. It was like magic, one of those little miracles we all pray for.
It was a small role. Just two lines. But as the saying goes...there are no small roles, only small actors. I really don't care about the size of the part. I just love to work. And it had been a very long time since I had worked on a prime time show. I was really excited about the gig, not to mention that I was making real money as well.
When I got my call time, I couldn't believe that it was a civilized hour. I didn't have to show up until nine a.m. My call times have always been of the zero dark thirty variety, so nine a.m. seemed like a real gift. I also got a Star Wagon. Wow, a real space with a TV and radio and bathroom. It was absolute luxury.
The talent wrangler was warm and friendly. The wardrobe, hair and make up people treated me with such consideration. I felt beautiful and like I was an important part of the team.
When time came to go to the set location, I was vanned over with the rest of the regular cast. They each introduced themselves and made me feel welcomed. There was no pretension, no you're just a day player and I'm a star. They were just real people and fellow actors. Maybe that is why their show is so popular, that realness spills over into their performance.
On set, everyone seemed to know my name. No one said, "Hey you, over here," which has happened to me as a day player on set. They made sure I was comfortable, knew what was going on, and was able to do my best work.
I was amazed by the way the set worked. Technology has upped the game since my last time on a TV set. They worked with two cameras, rarely cut, and were improvisational during the takes. It was amazing to see these talented young actors go with the flow, changing up the scene to make it funnier. And they were terrifically funny. It was such a pleasure to watch their work and to be a part of it.
They were also aware of my work. I don't believe I have ever received recognition of my participation on a set before. I can't tell you how gratified I felt when they said I was funny. It was a high compliment indeed from this group of actors. They liked my work enough that I was invited back for a second day. I had been hired for only one day. This was a total surprise. My manager was over the moon, and so was I.
The Mindy Project was the most auspicious end to what has been a very difficult year. I am trusting that it is the spectacular beginning to 2013. Whatever 2013 brings, I feel blessed to have worked with The Mindy Project cast and crew. I wish them much continued success with the show and every blessing they so richly deserve in their personal lives.
Thank you, The Mindy Project, for the best Christmas present ever.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Friday, December 7, 2012
Ilan Rosenberg
I am theatre trained. That means I learned to project my voice, use large gestures and facial movements so they could be seen in the audience of the large opera house I was trained in at college. When I began working post-college, I always worked in big theatres, Oklahoma tending more to large auditoriums as opposed to the intimate store front theatres here in Los Angeles. Consequently, I have a big, loud mouth, a rubber face and hand gestures that look like an Italian having an argument.
Needless to say, I was little prepared for the realities of acting for film and television. The techniques of theatre acting and film acting are polar opposites. Theatre requires you to be large, to act with your whole body. Film wants you to be intimate, to act with your eyes and your brain.
My first day on the set at Mighty Morphin Power Rangers would probably have been my last if it hadn't been for a wonderful man by the name of Ilan Rosenberg. Ilan was the director of photography for MMPR. For those of you who don't know what a DP does, he is the man who decides on the lighting, helps the director frame shots, and runs the camera during filming. A DP can make you look good or like a toad.
Having never taken an acting for the camera class, I had no idea what I was doing when I stepped foot on the MMPR set. Things like not looking into the lens of the camera, making sure you look at the appropriate side of the camera when you are supposed to be talking to someone during a close up, hitting a mark on the floor while talking, doing an action exactly the same way while doing multiple takes of a scene, etc., were foreign to me. Not only was I clueless, but I was very nervous on my first day of work. Ilan saved my life and gave me an education on camera work.
From our first meeting, Ilan went out of his way to make sure I looked good on camera and didn't slow down the production. He would have techies place sand bags at my mark so that I didn't have to look down to see the tape, which is what is used to identify a mark to hit. Ilan would have a PA stand to the side of the camera I was supposed to be looking for my close ups, he'd remind me of how far up I held an object during a take. He taught me how to "think" so that my face didn't overdo expression.
To this day, I am not sure why Ilan was so generous to me. I only know that I am so very grateful for what I have come to call my film acting 101 teacher. What I learned from Ilan Rosenberg really made it possible for me to continue with career. I am so grateful and I hope I told him so.
Needless to say, I was little prepared for the realities of acting for film and television. The techniques of theatre acting and film acting are polar opposites. Theatre requires you to be large, to act with your whole body. Film wants you to be intimate, to act with your eyes and your brain.
My first day on the set at Mighty Morphin Power Rangers would probably have been my last if it hadn't been for a wonderful man by the name of Ilan Rosenberg. Ilan was the director of photography for MMPR. For those of you who don't know what a DP does, he is the man who decides on the lighting, helps the director frame shots, and runs the camera during filming. A DP can make you look good or like a toad.
Having never taken an acting for the camera class, I had no idea what I was doing when I stepped foot on the MMPR set. Things like not looking into the lens of the camera, making sure you look at the appropriate side of the camera when you are supposed to be talking to someone during a close up, hitting a mark on the floor while talking, doing an action exactly the same way while doing multiple takes of a scene, etc., were foreign to me. Not only was I clueless, but I was very nervous on my first day of work. Ilan saved my life and gave me an education on camera work.
From our first meeting, Ilan went out of his way to make sure I looked good on camera and didn't slow down the production. He would have techies place sand bags at my mark so that I didn't have to look down to see the tape, which is what is used to identify a mark to hit. Ilan would have a PA stand to the side of the camera I was supposed to be looking for my close ups, he'd remind me of how far up I held an object during a take. He taught me how to "think" so that my face didn't overdo expression.
To this day, I am not sure why Ilan was so generous to me. I only know that I am so very grateful for what I have come to call my film acting 101 teacher. What I learned from Ilan Rosenberg really made it possible for me to continue with career. I am so grateful and I hope I told him so.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Jonathan Tzachor
Sometimes in your career, little miracles happen. Mine started in the offices of Katie Wallin and Thom Klon, casting directors for Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. Katie and Thom sent me to producers call for the show at the old studio in Culver City. (After the earthquake, Saban moved the show to Valencia.) The producer I met for my audition was Jonathan Tzachor. Going to producers is a big deal. It means that you are now in a smaller pool of people being considered for the job and that you have some quality they like. Which means...you could book the job.
I remember very little about my audition. I was very nervous. I wasn't getting many callbacks, let alone going to producers. I'd only been pursuing my career for a short while and, to be truthful, I was pretty green. All I really remember is that after I left the MMPR office after my audition, I was disappointed with myself. I have to be honest, that is the way I leave most auditions. I always feel I could have done better, been thinner, prettier, funnier, whatever...anyway I never feel I am enough. So I was walking down the stairs to leave the building totally absorbed in self-pity, knowing that I wouldn't get the job, when Mr. Tzachor came up behind me. I thought, "He's coming to tell me to find another career." Instead, he said they had decided to cast me and would I please come back up to the office to look over the contracts. My impulse was to hug him and do a little victory dance, but, of course, one must maintain a professional demeanor. I was screaming inside, but calm and collected on the outside. I was going to be Ms. Appleby on a show that no one at the time knew would become such an amazing success.
I didn't see Jonathan much during three years recurring as Ms. Appleby, but I kept in touch with him by correspondence (snail mail). He always graciously wrote me back. And he was so generous. He always made sure I was invited to the wrap parties even though I was just a day player. I think I only attended one, a great party at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. My last note from him was when he left the show. I've lost touch with him to my sorrow.
I will always be grateful to Mr. Tzachor for seeing in me the potential to bring something to MMPR. It was my first professional industry job. And my connection with the show has given me my fifteen minutes of fame, which is delicious, but about all I can handle.
Yes, sometimes little miracles happen in a career. Jonathan Tzachor provided me mine.
I remember very little about my audition. I was very nervous. I wasn't getting many callbacks, let alone going to producers. I'd only been pursuing my career for a short while and, to be truthful, I was pretty green. All I really remember is that after I left the MMPR office after my audition, I was disappointed with myself. I have to be honest, that is the way I leave most auditions. I always feel I could have done better, been thinner, prettier, funnier, whatever...anyway I never feel I am enough. So I was walking down the stairs to leave the building totally absorbed in self-pity, knowing that I wouldn't get the job, when Mr. Tzachor came up behind me. I thought, "He's coming to tell me to find another career." Instead, he said they had decided to cast me and would I please come back up to the office to look over the contracts. My impulse was to hug him and do a little victory dance, but, of course, one must maintain a professional demeanor. I was screaming inside, but calm and collected on the outside. I was going to be Ms. Appleby on a show that no one at the time knew would become such an amazing success.
I didn't see Jonathan much during three years recurring as Ms. Appleby, but I kept in touch with him by correspondence (snail mail). He always graciously wrote me back. And he was so generous. He always made sure I was invited to the wrap parties even though I was just a day player. I think I only attended one, a great party at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. My last note from him was when he left the show. I've lost touch with him to my sorrow.
I will always be grateful to Mr. Tzachor for seeing in me the potential to bring something to MMPR. It was my first professional industry job. And my connection with the show has given me my fifteen minutes of fame, which is delicious, but about all I can handle.
Yes, sometimes little miracles happen in a career. Jonathan Tzachor provided me mine.
Friday, November 16, 2012
The Process
I am so excited. I'm in a play! Yes, I have a very nice role in a local Christmas production. I haven't done any theatre in recent years because I teach a late class on Thursday nights and most small theatre have Thursday night performances. This production has only two performances on a weekend in mid-December, so it is perfect. My first rehearsal is tomorrow and I can't wait.
I love the process of rehearsal. It is the discovery of what it is to be someone other than yourself. You get to step out of your own shoes and walk a mile in someone else's. It is a complicated game of finding in your own behavior what best suits your "new" personality. What does your character have in common with you and how are you different? I love answering those questions because it usually means that I have to confront a part of me with which I may not be very comfortable and introduce it to the part of me with which I am content. After I go through a rehearsal process, I am usually mentally much healthier. And I've usually overcome some personal inhibition.
Rehearsal and performance also engages me with a community. That temporary family thing that happens in a cast makes my heart sing. As actors, to do a good job, we have to be vulnerable, emotionally accessible. I love that! In a world where so many people are closed off, to be with folks who can express their feelings easily is a real treat. Okay, maybe not everyone, but most actors share and it is delightful. I don't get enough outside stimulation. No one's fault but my own, but it's the truth. Rehearsal get me involved with others. I need that, particularly as we begin the holiday season.
In all honesty, I have to admit that I am also an adrenaline junky. Rehearsal and performance will get the adrenals pumping so I'll get my fix. Heighten adrenaline means more activity means more stimulation means more...well, you get the point. It's a healthy high and very good for me.
So I'm in a play. A true theatre fanatic...I'm in heaven. Totally blessed, I am doing what I was created to do. So let's kick start this holiday season and let the games begin.
I love the process of rehearsal. It is the discovery of what it is to be someone other than yourself. You get to step out of your own shoes and walk a mile in someone else's. It is a complicated game of finding in your own behavior what best suits your "new" personality. What does your character have in common with you and how are you different? I love answering those questions because it usually means that I have to confront a part of me with which I may not be very comfortable and introduce it to the part of me with which I am content. After I go through a rehearsal process, I am usually mentally much healthier. And I've usually overcome some personal inhibition.
Rehearsal and performance also engages me with a community. That temporary family thing that happens in a cast makes my heart sing. As actors, to do a good job, we have to be vulnerable, emotionally accessible. I love that! In a world where so many people are closed off, to be with folks who can express their feelings easily is a real treat. Okay, maybe not everyone, but most actors share and it is delightful. I don't get enough outside stimulation. No one's fault but my own, but it's the truth. Rehearsal get me involved with others. I need that, particularly as we begin the holiday season.
In all honesty, I have to admit that I am also an adrenaline junky. Rehearsal and performance will get the adrenals pumping so I'll get my fix. Heighten adrenaline means more activity means more stimulation means more...well, you get the point. It's a healthy high and very good for me.
So I'm in a play. A true theatre fanatic...I'm in heaven. Totally blessed, I am doing what I was created to do. So let's kick start this holiday season and let the games begin.
Friday, November 9, 2012
I Wanna Be An Actor
At least once a month someone asks me, "How do I become an actor?" My initial thought is, "If I have to tell you, you don't really want to be an actor." What I think these people are really asking is, "How do I get rich and famous?" Unfortunately, no one can tell them that.
Being an actor is not being rich and famous. Most of us aren't. I don't know what the statistic are now, but when I was in college my acting teacher used to quote these--only ten percent of actors ever make a living at it and only about one half of one percent become wealthy from acting. If you want to be an actor for money and fame, better find another career field.
For the most part, acting is a continual search for a job. It's a numbers game. The more you audition, the more likely you'll get cast. Acting is, at best, a "few weeks" job. Then it's back to the hunt again. For some of us, me for example, it's usually a "one day" job. It can be disheartening looking for that one day. You try and you try, you do your best and you still don't get the job. But somehow, if you are an actor, you pick yourself up, you get out and you do it again, and again, and again.
The moments when you do work are heavenly. The worst day on a set or stage is better that the best day doing anything else for me. I love the process and I suspect most of my colleagues do too. The work is what being an actor is about. Creating a character that resonates with an audience. Making a statement with art that makes people think and expand their horizons. Of course, the money is nice and if people remember your work, that is the icing on the cake.
So how do you become an actor? I think you are born needing to perform. Some of us search for our own identity through trying on others. You have to be hungry to perform. If you don't have the hunger, you won't have the persistence that keeps you out there, against all odds, searching for the next job. And boy oh boy, you better be persistent because it's a crowded job market.
When I came to Hollywood in the 90s, there was good news and bad news. The good news was I found out I wasn't the only large sized woman in the world like I thought I was. The bad news was every other large sized woman was here looking for the same jobs I was. I go to auditions and there are a dozen other "Royce Herrons" looking at me as I walk in the door. No one is alone in Hollywood. There are hundreds of every type, all talented, all looking for work. That's the acting game.
So you want to be an actor...good luck. No, that's not sarcastic, that's genuine. If you have the hunger, need to do it, will work (even for free) to be involved in the process, come join the fray. I wish you the best as I hope you wish me the best. I'll see you on the set soon, I hope. Right now, I need to go submit myself for auditions. Like I said...it's a numbers game.
Being an actor is not being rich and famous. Most of us aren't. I don't know what the statistic are now, but when I was in college my acting teacher used to quote these--only ten percent of actors ever make a living at it and only about one half of one percent become wealthy from acting. If you want to be an actor for money and fame, better find another career field.
For the most part, acting is a continual search for a job. It's a numbers game. The more you audition, the more likely you'll get cast. Acting is, at best, a "few weeks" job. Then it's back to the hunt again. For some of us, me for example, it's usually a "one day" job. It can be disheartening looking for that one day. You try and you try, you do your best and you still don't get the job. But somehow, if you are an actor, you pick yourself up, you get out and you do it again, and again, and again.
The moments when you do work are heavenly. The worst day on a set or stage is better that the best day doing anything else for me. I love the process and I suspect most of my colleagues do too. The work is what being an actor is about. Creating a character that resonates with an audience. Making a statement with art that makes people think and expand their horizons. Of course, the money is nice and if people remember your work, that is the icing on the cake.
So how do you become an actor? I think you are born needing to perform. Some of us search for our own identity through trying on others. You have to be hungry to perform. If you don't have the hunger, you won't have the persistence that keeps you out there, against all odds, searching for the next job. And boy oh boy, you better be persistent because it's a crowded job market.
When I came to Hollywood in the 90s, there was good news and bad news. The good news was I found out I wasn't the only large sized woman in the world like I thought I was. The bad news was every other large sized woman was here looking for the same jobs I was. I go to auditions and there are a dozen other "Royce Herrons" looking at me as I walk in the door. No one is alone in Hollywood. There are hundreds of every type, all talented, all looking for work. That's the acting game.
So you want to be an actor...good luck. No, that's not sarcastic, that's genuine. If you have the hunger, need to do it, will work (even for free) to be involved in the process, come join the fray. I wish you the best as I hope you wish me the best. I'll see you on the set soon, I hope. Right now, I need to go submit myself for auditions. Like I said...it's a numbers game.
Friday, November 2, 2012
A New Beginning
I'm an actor. I've been doing it for 48 years...that's right, longer than some of you have been alive. I believe acting saved my life. Sounds extreme, I know, but I feel it's true.
I had a gypsy childhood. It sounds like a soap opera when I tell it, but my childhood included a parental abduction, foster homes, and continual moving. Needless to say, I was a fairly reclusive child. At fourteen, I finally managed to get my dad to keep me with him and I found myself in a school where the drama department held open auditions for the school play. I don't know where I found the courage to audition. I was bookish and shy and chubby. I had no self-confidence. But I did audition and I got a part...Daisy Stanley in The Man Who Came to Dinner, Moss Hart and George Kaufmann.
This was the beginning of two careers--actor and costumer. The director, Mr. B, looked at me and said, "Oh you're large. (Duh, didn't notice that when you cast me.) Can you do your own costume?" When he found out I could sew, it was, "Can you do them all?" Of course I could. I would have done anything for Mr. B. I began costuming shows, which led to my theatre scholarship and my seventeen years at Glendale Community College.
I also fell in love with the rehearsal process. For me, it was instant family, something I longed for. Actors have to be emotionally available to each other if a show is to be any good. I came from an emotionally inaccessible family. Rehearsals were a little slice of heaven. Little did I know that it was also instant divorce when the show was over. Oh well, everything has a downside.
I also loved the adrenaline high of performance. It was like flying. The slight fear of forgetting lines and blocking. The "magic" of making it perfect. And the applause, oh my God, the applause. It was like the audience reaching out and hugging me. For my love starved heart, it was pure delight.
48 years later, these truths still hold true. I love the work, whether it pays or not. I am a true theatre junky. Show me a stage and I want to be on it. I long to leave Royce Herron behind and become whoever the play calls for.
So here is the beginning of my new adventure into blogdom. Friday is the day and the subject is acting--what I'm doing, what the business it like. Sometime personal, sometimes rant, sometimes blubber. Ask me questions. If I have answers, I'll give them. If I don't know, I'll make something up. If no one reads this, then I'm talking to myself. But what else is new? I'm an actor, which means I'm not running on all cylinders. If I wasn't crazy, I'd be doing something I made money at.
So I'm sending this out to the world wide web. Let me know if I make any sense at all.
I had a gypsy childhood. It sounds like a soap opera when I tell it, but my childhood included a parental abduction, foster homes, and continual moving. Needless to say, I was a fairly reclusive child. At fourteen, I finally managed to get my dad to keep me with him and I found myself in a school where the drama department held open auditions for the school play. I don't know where I found the courage to audition. I was bookish and shy and chubby. I had no self-confidence. But I did audition and I got a part...Daisy Stanley in The Man Who Came to Dinner, Moss Hart and George Kaufmann.
This was the beginning of two careers--actor and costumer. The director, Mr. B, looked at me and said, "Oh you're large. (Duh, didn't notice that when you cast me.) Can you do your own costume?" When he found out I could sew, it was, "Can you do them all?" Of course I could. I would have done anything for Mr. B. I began costuming shows, which led to my theatre scholarship and my seventeen years at Glendale Community College.
I also fell in love with the rehearsal process. For me, it was instant family, something I longed for. Actors have to be emotionally available to each other if a show is to be any good. I came from an emotionally inaccessible family. Rehearsals were a little slice of heaven. Little did I know that it was also instant divorce when the show was over. Oh well, everything has a downside.
I also loved the adrenaline high of performance. It was like flying. The slight fear of forgetting lines and blocking. The "magic" of making it perfect. And the applause, oh my God, the applause. It was like the audience reaching out and hugging me. For my love starved heart, it was pure delight.
48 years later, these truths still hold true. I love the work, whether it pays or not. I am a true theatre junky. Show me a stage and I want to be on it. I long to leave Royce Herron behind and become whoever the play calls for.
So here is the beginning of my new adventure into blogdom. Friday is the day and the subject is acting--what I'm doing, what the business it like. Sometime personal, sometimes rant, sometimes blubber. Ask me questions. If I have answers, I'll give them. If I don't know, I'll make something up. If no one reads this, then I'm talking to myself. But what else is new? I'm an actor, which means I'm not running on all cylinders. If I wasn't crazy, I'd be doing something I made money at.
So I'm sending this out to the world wide web. Let me know if I make any sense at all.
Monday, January 2, 2012
New Beginning
Wow! It's been almost a year since my last post. I can't believe time flies so quickly by. 2011 was an eventful and stressful year filled with many challenges and lots of change. I breathe a sigh of relief in its passing. I look forward with anticipation to whatever 2012 brings.
Writing becomes increasingly more important to me as a creative outlet. It is my intention (hopefully accomplished) to write on a more regular basis in this space. My book progresses well. After spending a productive weekend with my excellent friend, Cynthia, I am more than ever motivated to finish it. She gave me valuable feedback on chapters 1 through 3. She read them aloud and they sounded good. (I was surprised. I know, lack of confidence.) Chapters 4 and 5 are complete. Chapter 6 is underway and I should be committing murder by chapter 8. I can't wait!
This space is my practice room. A place to play with word crafting. I hope, over the course of this year, my stockpile of words will grow if only to prove my dedication to my creativity. If anyone is reading this blog, I covet your comments. They can help me grow as a writer.
So Happy New Year. May the words roll on in 2012.
Writing becomes increasingly more important to me as a creative outlet. It is my intention (hopefully accomplished) to write on a more regular basis in this space. My book progresses well. After spending a productive weekend with my excellent friend, Cynthia, I am more than ever motivated to finish it. She gave me valuable feedback on chapters 1 through 3. She read them aloud and they sounded good. (I was surprised. I know, lack of confidence.) Chapters 4 and 5 are complete. Chapter 6 is underway and I should be committing murder by chapter 8. I can't wait!
This space is my practice room. A place to play with word crafting. I hope, over the course of this year, my stockpile of words will grow if only to prove my dedication to my creativity. If anyone is reading this blog, I covet your comments. They can help me grow as a writer.
So Happy New Year. May the words roll on in 2012.
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