Category: Commentary

A Restart of Stagework

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A few months ago I took on a new project. Since I retired from teaching I have felt a definite void with not working on a theater stage. It always seemed I would land something somewhere but I really wasn’t sure. I’ve been through a lot over the past few years, and the one common denominator is that I was always happy on the stage. When I retired I left the door open and an opportunity fell into my lap.

I’ve begun directing on a small stage in an outer suburb of the twin cities. My desire to revamp a theatre program has begun the early days of its fruition. I directed a small group of students in a production that each audition landed a role. There weren’t a lot of students knocking on the door to perform and that was a bit humbling coming from a program that had a burgeoning experience over the last decade of definite intrigue with the stage.I had over 100 kids auditioning for shows, so the results were far different than in a program where I’m in a position of begging a bit to get students to try out.

What evolved is rather exciting. I discovered a remarkably engaging group of students that came early and left late. There was really no ego involved only a genuine desire to perform well on stage. I inherited a lot of work ahead to get all the pieces running smoothly in the program, including set and technical needs, but having the students in the mix with an intrigued persona helps. Next step is to find a show that brings in more talent. Not to say I want to eclipse the students I have now, I just want to enhance the mix and take early steps to build the program.

What really moved me the most was how much I really enjoyed directing. I found myself sitting in the auditorium quite often imagining what was going to happen on stage that night. It was really cool to find ideas and have the students that wanted to implement them on stage. The floor was open to any ideas they brought to the project and the students were delightfully outspoken.

I look forward to the months and years ahead. I often believed I would direct well into my seventh decade and God-willing that appears to be the case. It’s the students that drive me forward, no question. I am confident in their future.

Three Days Before Christmas

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I’m sitting alone in my apartment thinking about the days ahead. I don’t want to sound like I am feeling sorry for myself. Actually, I am in a good state of mind, as opposed to the last few years. I recently thought about my niece who is currently going through a round of chemotherapy having been diagnosed with a malignant breast cancer. I’m thinking about the cold outside and those people without a home, just trying to survive the night. Some won’t. My hope is of course that my niece will. But that’s not really the point is it, it’s more about how I am handling a few days before Christmas.

When I was growing up the Christmas holiday wasn’t a big deal. We gathered with family and had friends come by or visited extended family, and that was it. Having dinner and sharing laughs with one another was far more important than the material side of things. I grew up to not expect presents nor have a great comfort level handing them out. Part of that I’m sure had a lot to do with having money on hand. I never had a lot and I still don’t. What I do have is an appreciation for moments that are important to me in my life.

I remember when I was 12 years old I lost my cousin who was five months apart from me in a horrific car accident. He was skitching with friends (holding onto the bumper of a car) and sliding on a quiet road when the car swerved and he lost his life in the confusion. He and a good buddy both died that night and a part of me did the impending weekend of grief. That was my first experience and it came just weeks before Christmas and a planned visit to our cousins and relatives for the holiday. What was celebratory turned into a funeral. I don’t know if I conceptualized that any time soon afterwards. Perhaps years of confusion so much so I still think about it today.

When I was 23 I was living alone in Minneapolis and I was invited over to my cousin’s for Christmas dinner. I remember feeling a bit awkward because I was scraping by in the city and they were all doing well. I drank too much and barely making it through the dinner received a ride home from my cousin shortly afterward. I sat down in my apartment and wondered about the rest of the night. I decided to iron shirts and listen to music to pass the time to help alleviate the loneliness I felt in my heart. I think I had just lost a relationship at the time so I was feeling particularly broken. At one time as I was moving through a closet of dress shirts with my iron, my phone rang and I immediately smiled and wondered who it might be. I went for the phone and oddly it didn’t ring again. One ring and I answered a dial tone, and hung up in confusion. No one ever called back and I think I wept while ironing the remainder of my shirts. I’ll never forget that night and how barren I felt inside.

I bring myself back to tonight sitting in my apartment alone a couple of days before Christmas. I have things planned for the coming days so I won’t be alone. But, I do think about being alone. I lost my marriage a few years ago and now celebrate living alone and adjusting to how different my life is today. I have my kids in my world and so that is a relief. In the first couple of years of the divorce I really thought I had lost them altogether, but not so much anymore as I do see them when time allows and it is always a joy. As soon as they go home I wish I could see them again within the next day, but I’m getting used to the space in between. I will spend time with them both on Christmas day and that will be enjoyable and fulfilling. I spent last night having dinner with my son for his birthday and that was better than a dad could ever ask for. So I do find fulfillment despite writing about being alone tonight.

I think back to a couple of earlier scenarios – the affliction of cancer my niece has been cast, and the homeless tonight. She is upbeat about all of her chemos and how she responds to each. I tip my hat to her as she faces an insurmountable emotional drain having to acknowledge there is cancer in her body. It makes me stop and think about my focus on my woes occasionally. Again, that feeling arises when I think of the plight of the homeless. Tonight, the windchill will drop to well below zero and people will struggle to find warmth all night, some won’t make it to morning. I cannot imagine such pain for my niece and those without shelter. It gives me pause.

So I guess my point to all of this is to acknowledge the days ahead. In my own world I have shelter, enough to eat, a healthy body and the prospect of seeing my kids over the next couple of days. I really ought not need to ask for more, so I am hoping I can continue to see the beauty in life as I know it. I don’t have to find a place to sleep and needn’t dwell on my dependency for chemotherapy. So what shall I do with myself? Well, it starts at home.

I’ll appreciate the world around me. I’ll be thankful to have my friends and family in my life. I express relief in my well being and health. I’ll pray for those with a deeper struggle than my own. I’ll stop short of feeling sorry for myself and focus upon a full heart and kindness for my fellow man. I’ll celebrate the beauty of knowing each other and finding the meaning of love as we come to the close of another travel around the sun. I’ll be one with our world on this the night of our winter solstice. I’ll feel peace and pray.

She’s Having A Baby

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I am a happy man. In just a few short months I will be a grandfather. My daughter is about to have a child and I could not be happier. I’m scared too. I think that is a natural feeling to have for your daughter, your child, a parental instinct to care and protect. I love sharing the moment with her and the other day we had a breakfast together and as I looked at her across the table she had that beautiful glow and when I looked in her eyes I could see her happiness and excitement.

Ours has not been an easy couple of years. Her mother and I divorced a week or two before Covid so there were many aspects that were difficult and straining. She as my daughter had to deal with the difficulty of watching the bond of her mother and father collapse. She had to decide which side to take or whether to take sides at all. I struggled early on as I still do today but the common thread throughout all of it was that I did not want to lose my children or have them ever feel I didn’t care about their mother. Slowly over time that bond has mended itself well enough along the way to know that we can all still have lives together.

My daughter and I have always been close in a father and daughter fashion. She has always known I have her back and would do anything within my power to help make sure she is happy and safe. The divorce offered a wrinkle for me of a wonder whether that bond was destroyed. I walked around for a year or two believing it was as it should be because I took full responsibility for the divorce. I was the problem and I felt ashamed in the eyes of my children. I have cried enough to convince myself how important my relationship is with both of my children. Over time that has healed as well as it can, and we are again happy to see and know one another. She knows I care for her and I care for her mom but am accepting of the reality of the demise of our marriage. And then bring a new baby into the picture and the wow is wonderful.

My daughter married just over a year ago after a long term relationship with her new husband. They always wanted to have children but they were patient along the way. Once they married it was clear to begin trying. Her mother went over the moon with happiness when she found out her daughter’s condition. My ex has always loved babies and now to have one that she can call her own granddaughter gives her a happiness it must surely be hard to describe. My son as well is beyond words happy for his sister. As a prospective grandfather I feel much the same way.

So here we are in a new stage of our lives. I am happy to know I will be an integral part of my grandchild’s life and that there is delight and love all around us. We have a child coming in our future and all we need is to believe in the love that exists in family and childbirth. I remember when my daughter was born it was the first time I felt I had experienced in true form a natural miracle and now life comes full circle again. Embrace love.

On Being

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I posted a meme tonight about the essence of life, and what ought matter the most in our society, our world, our planet. The quote wasn’t my own. It appeared a scrawl on the side of a building like graffiti. It might have been photo-shopped but was effective. It spoke of how the planet doesn’t need more successful people, but instead needs more love and peace and healing. I was taken by it enough to believe it mattered.

I thought about it afterward and concluded with that age old question; what defines success in our lives? I think it meant being comfortable with ourselves to give to others rather than being wrapped up in having to prove our worth. Isn’t success simply being satisfied with who we are without measure? I found myself re-evaluating my life and once again treading the terrain of that slippery slope. What is my success story? I concluded it is undefined.

I have always had rough patches to go along with my happier moments. One would argue without the pain there would be less appreciation for the happier measures in our lives.

I have been through a difficult couple of years, times of which I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. So many cathartic miseries that somehow today are beginning to have positive meaning in my life.

So how do we measure success? How do I measure my own? Instead I would like to choose to live my life with the freedoms put before me. I would like to appreciate my life and the world around me.

That is my measure of success.

A Curious Outcome

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I found him crouched in a corner laying in a fetal position.

The kids told me that is the way he is. Let him go, you don’t want to have him blow up on you. He does that when he gets angry, no one can talk him down. It’s just the way he is.

I remember the day I first experienced a young man’s trials amongst his peers. He had needs that weren’t addressed easily, and had developed a reputation as someone who lost it with a huge temper that exploded when things didn’t go his way. Everyone just left him alone. I had seen him perform in a school play in junior high school and I knew I wanted this young man on stage. I didn’t know what I was getting into, but the story turned into one of the most positive experiences in my career.

One day in the middle of a scene, Sam disappeared and didn’t return to the stage. I asked my student director about him and she said that’s normal for him, he just has to blow off some steam. I said I wanted to go talk to him, and she gave me a look like we’ve done that before, good luck. I found him lying in the choir room. He was crouched in a corner laying in a fetal position. I stepped in closer and said his name out loud a couple of times and he didn’t respond. I knew this guy was going to play a lot of roles in the future. He was in 9th grade at the time. I asked him if I could talk to him and without looking at me, he adjusted himself to a sitting position. I told him we were going to have a lot of conversations like this in the coming years and I saw a smile come across his face. At the moment I didn’t know if it was a sarcastic grin, or an honest appraisal of his moment. After a few minutes of conversation I realized it was the latter and he probably heard me breathe a sigh of relief. We made it through that moment and he returned to the stage and we finished his scene. The night ended and he grabbed his book bag and left without saying a word. I thought to myself it was a start.

Over the next three years I watched Sam come to life on stage. With each role he would hit me with a barrage of questions, the common one being he didn’t think he deserved to be on stage. He deserved every moment. He was good. I got to know his parents well and knew them to be supportive of his son’s efforts on stage. In his junior year we traveled to New York, he was part of a group of students that went on a theatre crawl together. At one point during a production of, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time at intermission, Sam got up and shouted, “This play is about me!” We knew each other well and he turned to me with another smile. This time I knew what was on his mind. I was happy watching Sam grow over his four years on the stage, and graduate school with high marks in every class.

We are given the opportunity as theater directors to work with students from every walk of life. In this circumstance, the degree of autism Sam was experiencing helped him dive into the characters he played on stage. Not only did he find himself on stage, that also carried over into his experiences in life. In all my years directing it was hard to know anyone else as passionate as he was with his craft. So many times he walked off stage with a quit attitude in his mind and then returned shortly after and rocked the room. He just needed to trust the outlets around him. I was honored to work with such commitment.

© Thom Amundsen 5/2022

Why Shakespeare?

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Because acting is life. With every good playwright we find the realities we endure being played out on stage to help us understand. Without knowing the consequence, the moment needs to find reason, and if done properly, can teach all of us something. That is the beauty of theater. That is the marvel of Shakespeare.

I often in my classroom, whether it be English or theater would reference Romeo & Juliet. There is a scene where the star-crossed lovers cannot be with each other yet have each other in their hearts to a point of obsession. I will ask my class, or perhaps my cast, have they ever experienced waiting for someone? Have they known the anxiety of not knowing? When Romeo shutters himself in his bedroom, is that like putting on a headset and tuning out the world? Would both fathers reach out to friends to find out the state of mind of their children? All of these questions relate directly to our lives today. They speak to the anxiety that our children go through on a daily basis – much like the same for adults. So why is it so important we see that played out in the script and inflections created by actors on stage? It tells a story.

Our lives are stories, each and every one of us has experience. If not, then the likes of Neil Simon, Lorraine Hansberry, August Wilson, Arthur Miller, Toni Morrison, Joyce Carol Oates could not be embraced in the manner their words are heard. If not, then William Shakespeare would be just another hack. The truth is though every one of these names speaks to the human condition. Only a few have been mentioned, so many more exist and continue to evolve. The beauty of Shakespeare is his words and moments lifted our emotional bearing in a way that is hard to argue allows us to relate to situations that are as real now as they were centuries ago. Sophocles wrote of the demise of power with great reliance upon human interactions to suggest the deceit that can bury a society or at least mar their credibility.

Today is Shakespeare’s apparent birth date, so it provides reason to be grateful for his words and how they have become statements of who we are in today’s world. Who we are in his eyes of culture a long time ago in an English language often misconstrued. Shakespeare belongs on stage, and it is the mannerism, the expression, response of the actor on stage that lets the audience know there is evidence to the nature of life. We talk of existential crises in our lives, and look to find Shakespeare has played out the catharsis in some scene or soliloquy witnessed in its raw form. The actor is alive on stage..

When we think back to that moment with Romeo & Juliet experiencing teenage lives, imagine how students today go through the same. What better knowledge gained than playing out these lives on stage, with all the emotion and intellect of a simple analogy of the human spirit? The genius of a playwright deserves a lauding on their birthday.

The irony is the next scene in his day.

© Thom Amundsen 4/2022

She Belonged On Stage

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At least those were her words when Becky returned to an audition after years of being away. I’ve changed her name and productions to protect her anonymity. I was first introduced to Becky in a production of Mary Poppins when she played a significant role. She was someone who came out of nowhere, they usually do and found herself with a significant role, one that she would present with a fierceness a director may only wish a student would bring to a program.

I remember her having an edge with the cast immediately. People looked upon Becky and knew she was serious about her purpose in a show. She had her lines down early and was even helping the younger children find comfort with their roles and acting abilities. I remember being able to give her any direction and she always took it a step further. She one time told me she didn’t really get along with anyone else and she was just here to do her job. Though I wanted to disagree with her I could see in her dynamic she did stay close to the chest and it was significant to see her become close to anyone in the production. That wasn’t a bad thing I decided, she was actually so talented I let her do whatever she wanted. Off stage she may not have been everyone’s best friend but when acting and working on her role, there was no question of her commitment.

And then she disappeared. The production ran its course and suddenly Becky didn’t return for the one acts or later the spring play. In fact she vanished from the halls of the school. The next year came and went and no Becky still. I was puzzled because she was so good I was actually mildly planning my season around her (a taboo admission by a director). As I did find out she transferred to an ALC, an alternative learning center. I wouldn’t know the reason for a couple of years but once I did discover her there she did invite me to a couple of poetry readings, so I knew it was evident she wanted to perform. Turns out her angst toward other members of the stage was more likely anxiety, and she just couldn’t maintain a comfort level working with the school productions. I always encouraged her and she would give me a maybe look and be on her way.

Senior year came along and Little Shop of Horrors was our fare for the fall musical. Suddenly on the list of auditions I saw Becky’s name. I was beyond delighted. Here comes a monologue story. Students were mandated to have a prepared monologue for the audition. When Becky got up to do her piece it was one of the most heartfelt pieces I had ever heard – a story of a young woman that knew she belonged on stage but was afraid. She finally decided in the caveat of the reading she needed to take a chance and would go for it. I loved it. It fit her swimmingly. I asked her where she found the piece I would like to see it myself and maybe use it in my classroom. She looked at me with a pensive glance and said, “I wrote it.” In that moment I cast her in the show.

There is something about anxiety and students finding themselves on stage. They may walk the halls of school in a meek manner not wanting to upset the cart, their insides churning with fear the entire walk. Put them on a stage and that persona can change, I have seen it occur time and time again. In Becky’s case she belongs on stage, and to confirm this feeling I had, she continued to excel on stage in her post-secondary studies. I am delighted to reference such a wonderful human being and actor in my theater classrooms.

There is an illusion we all try to reach when performing our realities in the scheme of a stage. When we can lives may also become more complete and validating. For Becky, she did find a zone and embraced her opportunities.

© Thom Amundsen 4/2022

Directing Controversy

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When I first chose to direct A Raisin in the Sun I wanted to put the show on because I had the right students to make it happen. The demographics of the school supported an all black cast of actors, and I thought it a wonderful opportunity to put on a timely show. Lorraine Hansberry’s script turns out to be timeless as its content is still conceivable in our society today. I remember colleagues asking me if I was going to cast the show ‘color-blind’ a term I have grown to dislike. I said I would cast the best person in each role and for this audition I had students come out of the woodwork. Everyone was excited about the show including me.

The auditions proved to be very competitive. I had many students I had never seen in the program before show up as it became an exciting word of mouth opportunity. I posted my cast list and an adventure in theater I hadn’t experienced before slowly began to evolve. In the process of rehearsal I found myself asking students to do something a white director couldn’t really conceptualize from the acknowledgment of hoping to get out of poverty to dealing with a white consultant for a neighborhood this black family could afford to live in based upon an inheritance. They never dreamed of being shunned by a white neighborhood that thought their lives would tumble into hell because of an influx of black families moving in, theirs being the first.

I remember asking my students to play out roles that I had to realize went against everything they believed. They were taking on characters that represented all of the discrimination and systemic injustice the majority of their families and community lived with every day. I was asking my students to act out their worst fears on stage. As a white director I went home many nights wondering if I was doing the right thing, holding rehearsals where the majority of the players would go home frustrated and angry every night. I hadn’t really thought about why. One day I brought one of my students home, he missed his ride and he told me how difficult it was to play a Nigerian student with a significant role in the play. He said it is hard enough to be black in the show now I have to be one from a native country? We talked about it for some time outside his home in a tough part of the neighborhood. He smiled and said good night and I waited for him to enter his house before I departed.

From that point on I began to tell the students this is their show and I was only going to advise them. They took ownership, including the sole white character who withstood the scrutiny of the family the entire performance. I remember thinking back to my colleagues who didn’t think I had enough students to cast the show and hoping they would attend. The majority did not go to the show.

What I did learn from directing this show is that when we put something on stage we have to ready ourselves for the questions that evolve. We had many sit down round table discussions about the characters and their roles in setting the tone. The students took the lead and defined their characters. I basically provided them a set. It was the most fascinating show I ever directed because I learned more than I might ever imagine. The students educated themselves and many expressed a sense of empowerment.

This show taught me that I’m not always right and being a good listener is invaluable to staging a play.

© Thom Amundsen 4/2022

Why Do I Need A Monologue?

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Years ago, when I was pursuing the stage, I was told by my mentor to always have a couple of monologues ready to go – preferably one comic and another tragic, perhaps contemporary or classical, even better always carry one of each in your back pocket and have them all memorized. Have a resource of around four or five memorized monologues. An actor really hasn’t any idea when this prep will come into play outside of the called for monologue in an audition.

As a high school theater director I always instilled this upon my students. I often held auditions that required memorized monologues, if not at least holding it in their hand. This was still high school so I was reasonable, but the emphasis remained. Unless it was a cold reading from the script I wanted students to take the audition seriously. The effort alone to present something outside of themselves was valuable.

My students would shirk and moan and dismiss the idea often just reading off a script found minutes before their scheduled slot. Like I said, I would give them a break but then afterwards cast or not try to explain to them how important it is to represent a character outside of themselves. If they walk into the room beaming with confidence can they express the sensitive nature of vulnerability or emulate the complete opposite.

I always tried to remind them of a funny story of an actor who once auditioned for a Hollywood cop show and after reading a piece for the director as he was dismissed the actor jumped up on the table and delivered a barrage of indignant banter to the director. He was cast in the show as an undercover cop with a personality that expressed a barrage of indignant banter. Now, that wasn’t the practiced theory of a monologue but this fellow knew what he was doing and he got the director’s attention.

I’m not suggesting students jump up on my desk and go crazy but the point was made. This actor knew what he was doing and presented that in their audition. I once had a student do that to me with the monologue “You can’t handle the truth” in true Jack Nicholson form. He scared the hell out of me and I gave him an A because not only did his stance work, he also knew the piece, word for word.

I would share the story of my own experience of an audition with the creative director of a well known theater company in the city. The audition called for cold readings, monologues preferred but unnecessary. So I went with the latter and didn’t tune up my library of monologues not expecting anything from the audition. I was in the last group of about eight people for the session and at the end of our cold readings he asked me to hang back. I was alone in the room with the artistic director. I was quite excited. He then asked me that dreaded question. “Do you have a couple of monologues you can show me?”

Silence.

I told him I had a couple but didn’t have them with me and I probably wouldn’t do them any justice.

“Well, that’s too bad, thanks for coming in,” he emoted and I walked out quite embarrassed. This man wanted results and preparation and I failed on both accounts. This is a message I did tried to implore to my students whenever delivering the ‘monologue’ lecture in class.

Are you earnest about getting a part, or just showing up to check things out? The former will be imperative.

© Thom Amundsen 4/2022

Playing Illusions

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One of the treasures of putting a script to stage is the opportunity to play reality and leave the audience in wonder. Many playwrights spend a lifetime writing scenes that will depict society in its true and sometimes disturbing form. Arthur Miller did just that with the majority of his scripts, my favorite being The Crucible. I remember the first time putting it on stage, using real moments to bring students to the next level, and finding takeaways that might sometimes change their own outlook on life.

I think The Crucible held a grasp on our society as it stood in Arthur Miller’s eyes in the 1950s when the production was first written. Miller wanted to speak to the idiocy of the McCarthy trials, a time that turned the entertainment industry upside down with unfounded or overzealous attempts to blacklist artists under the guise of communism. The idea that entertainment focused on the desecration of America’s freedom of expression destroyed many careers based upon rumor and speculation, and Miller used a common truth to express his indifference with an errant decision making process.

The Salem Witch Trials were a black mark on our history as a free society. In the 1600s dozens of residents of Salem were executed for unfounded involvement with witchcraft. In a similar scope the trials were Miller’s focal point when exposing the atrocity of the McCarthy hearings. The witch trials became a public exhibition of innocent lives and hangings; the careers of writers and entertainers had an eerily similar impact on human beings in a figurative sense. Miller used his genius to draw parallels between the two tragedies.

In order to stage Miller’s depiction of the trials, his script needed to be followed closely. What began as confusion from illness in the town of Salem erupted in a widespread speculation of children of the community practicing witchcraft in the surrounding forest. Imagine if our children were found playing kick the can in the dusk of their neighborhood suddenly becoming the victim of an elder accusation. The world of our children would be turned upside down. Much like the progress of or lack there of history of our political process, our society is easily drawn into discredit and shame as regards our desire to live in a free and safe society.

I think one of the pleasures I found with directing such a difficult piece as is The Crucible is our ability to look at the world through the eyes of a conscientious playwright. Arthur Miller told stories in his plays that emulated our society, our world. His ability to take real situations and act them out on stage would give any director a sense of giving society a value to imagine. My goal with all productions is to leave the audience conversing the symbolic nature and themes played out on stage. Imagine the education our students can receive acting out ‘real’ moments on stage with events that mirrored our society.

The masses need credible information that exposes speculation rather than limit freedom.

© Thom Amundsen 4/2022