Discover possibility and what lies beneath with Anne Knoll

Meet my dear friend, Anne Knoll:

Anne Knoll, photographer, writer, performer, director has combined these talents into her Fine Art and Portraiture work. She has been entertaining and educating young people for years. Her experience with children's theatre includes The Evergreen Players, a troupe she originated performing for children in schools, libraries and parks across Long Island. She has been involved in children's education for many years, having taught theatre and directed school performances in Illinois, Michigan, New York and New Jersey

Ms. Knoll originally targeted her writing toward young audiences with "The Sun Princess" and "The Sun Princess and the Royal Surprise," the first two books in a series concerning adoption. Both printed as private editions. In addition, she wrote a play for young audiences entitled "Mrs. Tinkerton's Toy Shop." The books and the play have been adapted and produced by Puttin' On the Ritz Theatre in Oaklyn, New Jersey, as part of its children's theatre programming. She is frequently invited to read her work in schools and libraries throughout southern New Jersey.
Her endeavors in the realm of poetry yielded two books entitled Weaving and Root Soaking. The latter, was a hand-made, numbered and signed Limited Edition of 145 copies that sold in bookstores and galleries in Vermont and New Jersey.

On stage, her work has included such roles as Elizabeth/The Crucible, M'lynn/Steel Magnolias, Stella Mae/Come Back to the Five and Dime Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean, Ma Allen/Dark of the Moon, Ms. Prism/The Importance of Being Earnest.

You can see some of Anne's gorgeous work HERE.

Once again, this is not a quick sound byte. This is a nice long, delicious, juicy read so grab a cup of green tea, settle in and enjoy. Anne and I reference ACN, the Artist Conference Network, several times. In the founder, Beverly Cassell's words: "The Artist Conference Network is a kind of miracle space for gifted fools. It is a safe place to take on doing things you don't know how to do. It is a structure for living your dreams. It is an environment of informed generous acknowledgment, where making up stuff precedes the production of results, and there's a bunch of folks there who know what it took and celebrate with you..."

As usual you catch Anne and I in mid conversation:


AK: I’m very concerned about the future of creativity in our world. For some kids the spark will just rise to the surface but many kids need to be exposed to it to know that they like painting or playing an instrument or whatever it might be that speaks to them.

KV: Were you creative as a kid, did the spark rise to the surface for you?

AK: Yes. For me, creativity became my salvation and it did just surface. It came out of a kind of self conscious desperation. I lived in a very dysfunctional family. My dad was an alcoholic. Later in life he he took the road of recovery and became an important part of my life and my children's lives. However, during my childhood he was still struggling and my mom was busy dealing with all of that so as a result my house was a creative wasteland.

I’ve spoken to other people and they talk about when they were little there were books in the house and their parents took them to museums and plays and they always had crayons and paper and paint. I had none of that. My mother liked to listen to Mitch Miller - that was the extent of my creative exposure at home.

I remember when I was about five, I was so alone. My sister was six years older and was off to school so I needed to occupy myself somehow. I have no idea where this came from - I made theatres. I made all different kinds of theatres as I imagined them because, of course, I had never actually been in one. My mother sewed all of my clothes so I made my theatres out of scraps of fabric I’d get from my mother and from old shoe boxes and newspapers. I made so many of them over the years. I wish I still had some of them today.

I would also “play” theatre. We had an unfinished basement in our home and I remember I found an old army blanket down there. I clipped that old blanket up and it would function as a curtain or a backdrop. So, then, I had a theatre. I was everything. I played all the parts. You know what’s astounding - when I took my bow I could truly hear the applause. Only a kid can do that.

KV: Did you find a creative outlet in school?

AK: In elementary school I went to a four room school. We didn’t do plays, we didn’t have music class. There was nothing theatrical. So, to think, I started out in my basement and then went all those years with nothing. I pleaded with my mother to let me attend the public high school but she said, “no.” So, I went to what was then Sacred Heart High School. I went to school as a secular day student with the postulants and novices who were studying to be nuns. Once a month a nun came in, played the piano and we sang some songs - that was music. We saw her eight times a year.

Gratefully enough they did decide to do one act plays my freshman and sophomore years. All of a sudden, I was alive again. Then, my junior and senior year they actually did full length plays. What a time!!

I went off to college hoping to be a theatre major but at the end of my freshman year my mother said, “You can’t be a theatre major. You will NEVER get a job and you need to get a job.” So, I sadly changed my major to English. I tried to stay as involved in the theatre department as I could. Initially, I had decided to do a double major but it became more than I could handle. I wound up being two courses short of the double major.

Once I graduated I started teaching and ironically every teaching job I ever held I was hired for my theatre work. I taught speech and theatre and directed the plays at school. Once again I was involved in theatre. It was in a very different way than I ever expected but it was very fulfilling and I loved it. I loved watching the kids love it.

I believe there is passion and indescribable magic in every single person. There is never anyone who is ever born into this world who doesn’t have that inside them and along with that passion and magic they have a driving desire to share, even if only for a moment, what lies beneath in them. It’s this concept that has become a mantra for me. It has become the way I live my life, it has become the way I see people. I think that it allows me to relate to people differently and it’s also what allowed me to take the portraits I took as a photographer. I didn’t want to show the natural beauty of a person on film. I wanted to capture something, if I could, that went beneath.

I’ve always known, even as a child, that I had a particular gift of allowing people to “be” with me, whether I was a teacher or a director or a photographer. I’ve had people tell me that I have an aura of safety about me. When I get that from people it’s very humbling because they will give you parts of themselves that they normally don’t let people see. I look upon it all with a boundless sense of gratitude. I think almost every creative thing I’ve ever done has been without intention. That creative process led me, I didn’t lead it, and it took me where I was meant to be.

KV: That leads me to one of my questions. I was there when the poetry started coming to you. You didn’t go in pursuit of it, it just came to you. I’m wondering if all of your creative endeavors have followed this same pattern.

AK: They have. I learned from ACN that so many of us who are artists hit our greatest roadblocks when we are attempting to make art happen. Our best work will ALWAYS, not sometimes, not frequently, but ALWAYS be generated by allowing it to happen.

ACN was a gift to me. I was creatively on fire in ACN. I say this with a great deal of humility because it was almost overwhelming to me. You see, ACN was a safe space and I didn’t know what a safe space was. All my creativity up until ACN was despite my surroundings. When I hit ACN and found myself in a place of no criticism and no judgment - !! Those were the rules at ACN - no criticism, no judgment and recognizing your stories. We learned to identify our stories and our place in them so we could move beyond them. That is a gift I will never, ever be able to repay.

You see, you can live in this space where all of this “stuff” is - thinking, feeling, emotions, judgment, criticism, joy, happiness - ALL of it. You’ve got to get from there to HERE, which is where choice and possibility live. Nothing else is there, just choice and possibility, because possibility is based on NOTHING. It isn’t based on education, talent, circumstances - nothing! When you learn how to get from point A to point B, it is astounding what happens because you don’t encumber yourself as an artist with the eight million stories we tell ourselves that stop us so often. As a result of being in this space of possibility I accomplished so much creatively and the very soul of who I was as a creative person was not only alive but validated.

KV: The concept of letting go of my stories has been very helpful to me, too. Could you elaborate on it a bit more.

AK: Yes. Being able to get out of my stories has been invaluable to me. It is almost impossible for me to put into words how that has impacted my life as a creative person - and as a person in general. Throughout the day I constantly ask myself: is this a “story,” who am I being is this story, did I make that up ( yes, I did). Who or what do I need to be to get out of this story?

Since the chapter of ACN I attended closed, which has been over six years ago, I have never quite had that same grasp. So much of that is because I no longer have that utterly supportive community to meet with twice a month.

Over the past two years it has felt like I’ve been in a creative wasteland. I’ve been saying to myself, ”Just be calm & it will come. Whatever it is I’m meant to be doing will come.” So, I guess what I’m meant to be doing is baby-sit my grandchildren because that is what has entered my life. And, just recently I had an email from a friend who has asked me to be his mentor as he begins his first foray into directing. I am so thrilled, honored and excited to take this journey with him.

KV: That’s wonderful. It will be great for both of you . You can help him create a safe place such as ACN was for you. I wonder if you find that many of us aren’t just reacting to outside forces but are also reacting to the voices of judgment and criticism within?

AK: I think every artist does. We get negative feedback not just from family and schooling - it’s just out there. I think artists as a whole live with negative feedback. I mean, look at things now, and it’s not just due to the economy, although that’s the big excuse at the moment.

KV: I find this how many people validate art: “is it good, is it bad...”

AK: Ah! There it is. I think that’s what the vast majority of people do regardless of the art. They are instinctively, immediately judgmental. They can look at something and either like it or not like it and then place a value or no value on it very quickly. I don’t do that now. It’s easy to slip back into it but if I find myself in that place I get myself out of that story. When you love art, you have a willingness to learn a different way of seeing.

KV: One of the many things I’ve admired about you is that you carry all of your creative efforts to their fruition, at least that’s how it appears to the outside observer. Is this something that comes naturally to you or is it something you’ve learned to do?

AK: Again, I look upon that as a gift. The best way I can describe it is: I can’t not. It’s just a natural part of who I am. It’s akin to making my bed. I can’t NOT make it. It’s not obsessive in any way. It’s just a calm doing because that’s who I am.

KV: Although you said earlier that you feel like you are currently in a creative wasteland, you also mentioned that you’re working on Hairspray. I’ve known you for several years now and I’m willing to bet that’s not the only thing you’re working on creatively…

AK: Well, I have been working on my memoirs. I was generated to do so because Herman and I are older and our grandchildren are very small. We will never have the opportunity to know them as adults. When that realization hit me it was difficult. I so want to know them at every single stage of their lives and there are things about my life I want them to know. There is so much about art and creativity and what it can do in their lives that I want them to know. I want them to sit with the words on the page and say, “Wow, this is how much my Nonna valued art and being creative.” Although the memoirs are not exclusive to that, a huge part will be devoted to art.

KV: As an outside observer , it seems to me that you are frequently inspired by people.

AK: (laughing)Hmmm, yes, almost totally. It was always there but it wasn’t something I consciously recognized, it was not an active thought until I picked up a camera. I was a cold January day, I had an old Minolta at my house, I had a roll of film sitting in the refrigerator (God knows how old it was). I had never taken anything but vacation shots and family shots by the Christmas tree. Now, again, something prompted me. I don’t like walking outside when it’s January and it’s freezing cold but something prompted me to take a walk outside and take pictures. Later, when I had them developed and I looked at them, I was shocked. I called my friend, Gary, who is a photographer and asked him if he had time to look at the pictures. He graciously went through them and then, went through them again. He asked me why I wanted him to see them. I told him that they had surprised me, that I found some of them really beautiful. He said, “I do, too.” I told him how I’d gone for a walk and all of a sudden I was taking photographs of things I normally would have walked by and not even noticed. How do you explain that?? You don’t. You say, “Thank you Universe.” That’s how it all started for me.

Initially, I was photographing things. That is when the concept came to me, that has been with me and will be with me until I go on my next journey, the concept of the mute eloquence of objects. Leaves in ice - they speak to us. Trees, clouds, rocks, - they speak to us. Then I went to see the play The Fantasticks. When the character of The Mute came out onstage I thought I wouldn’t be able to contain myself. It was like an implosion had happened and I thought, “My God, it’s the mute eloquence of people. That’s what it is. That’s what I need to photograph.” And, that is what I’ve done from that day to this. Everything leads to the next thing.

KV: Your photography eventually led to you to a workshop with Dennis Keeley.

AK: Yes. I, of course, went there with all of my stories because, unlike ACN, he was there to critique our work. I invented all of these scenarios in my mind where he’d single me out as the one person who didn’t really belong there. So you can imagine when he looked at my portraits and said, “I wish I could take portraits like that” my breath left me for just minute. I almost felt numb. I didn’t know what to do with what I felt. The next day he asked me to meet him at lunchtime. Right away I went in to the negative stories again, they are just so inherent. So, I met with him and he said, “I’m going to say something that will be difficult to hear.” I remember I was staring at the grass and my eyes started to well. He continued, “There is an element of genius in what you do.” What I remember about that moment was the different shades of green in the grass and that if he had told me to go home that somehow would have been easier. That’s huge. That’s how we are, unless someone unconditions us along the way and allows us to continue to learn how to uncondition ourselves to that kind of response.

It’s amazing how difficult it can be for an artist to hear good things about their work because we are so conditioned otherwise. I think somewhere in my worldly psyche I want to take that conditioning away from every creative person I know in whatever way I can. Nobody could offer you anything better than that - the freedom to be comfortable with what you create.

Tap Into Your Infinite Interconnectedness with Liz Filios

Meet my friend Liz Filios. Liz Filios has worked in India, South Africa, and Italy, but now calls Philadelphia home. Liz was seen recently in The Arden Theatre’s productions of Sunday in the Park With George, and Candide as Cunegonde. Critics called her performance “dazzling,” “a phenomenon” and touted the newcomer’s talents – which include “a gleaming high soprano voice, and a sense of humor.” Liz has also performed for Philadelphia audiences at The Wilma Theater (Eurydice, The Life of Galileo), The New Candlelight Theater (Lend Me a Tenor, Hello Dolly! ), and The Walnut Street Theatre (Les Miserables). She holds a B.F.A. in Musical Theatre from the University of Michigan and has performed as a vocalist with The Philadelphia Orchestra, the International Opera Theater and the Cape Town Opera Company. She is currently nominated for both a Perry Award and a Barrymore Award.

Liz and I met at La Citadelle in Philadelphia to catch up with each other and conduct the interview before she headed off to India for a friend's wedding. It had been so long since we had seen each other that I found we were discussing issues I wanted to address before I'd even had a chance to open my notebook or turn on my recorder.

ME: OK, I'm ready now. You were talking about being cracked wide open - the deconstruction that occurs before construction.

LIZ: Yes, well, sometimes you choose consciously to make sacrifices for your art and then other times you don't have any choice. You can try to make sense of it in retrospect. You can say to yourself, "Well, this wouldn't have been possible had I not lost this or given up that." That can be of some comfort but there is an arbitrariness to it all that is inherent, especially if you're in the arts, and you have to just learn how to enjoy the ride. Otherwise it can drive you nuts.

As I get older, I've been trying to look at all of this with new eyes. Yes, I might be making this many dollars but what is my quality of life? You don't just get paid in fiscal currency, you get paid in artistic currency as well.

Of course, in order to do this you do often have to break things down in order to build them back up again. Destruction is a necessary part of creation and you can take pleasure in knocking down the blocks. Learn to not get too attached to one temporary thing but appreciate its transience. That makes it easier to let go and easier to start again.

ME: I know actors often find themselves between jobs. What do you do to stay inspired when you're not technically employed.

LIZ: Oh my gosh!! I am a workaholic! I will find something to do!! I can't sit still. I would just go crazy. There are classes to take, there's a turn-out to work on, there's a high note that needs refining, there's an acting technique to explore, there's a teacher out there from whom I can learn. To me, it's getting back to the real part of my career, the honing of the craft and working on the weaknesses. Getting the job is the fun part. The real works comes when you're free to study. In Philly, I've taken classes with Antonio Fava, in commedia dell'arte, I've taken classes with the Philadelphia School of Circus Arts. I tend toward the physical classes because I think one of my main faults is that when I get into a show I get so buried in the material and the text that I become disconnected from my body. I get so much in my head that I start to censor myself. I find that taking classes that reconnect me with my body helps to generate new ideas. For instance, I took a class with Steve Pacek when I was between shows in February and March of this year. I knew Steve because I'd seen his work and he is brilliant! I love watching performers and not necessarily dissecting their work but asking myself what it is that makes them great. So, when I heard Steve was teaching a class, I said, "I'm there." It turned out his class was full but I wrote to him anyway. I said, "I've seen you in this and this and these are the reasons why this class is really important to me." That got me in. We did a lot of work on Viewpoints and Laban. Steve would have us perform our songs, choose two Laban "effort shapes" and try to do the movements without focusing on anything but the movement. Suddenly, things would just pop out of me. When I think about vocal pedagogy I am stuck in academia, but when I think about "slashing" suddenly this incredible high note will soar out with out having to "pass GO and collect $200," if you know what I mean. It was really crucial work for me and I wouldn't have been able to do it if I'd been in a show.

Now, some shows kick you in the butt and force you to learn. When I was cast as the Narrator in Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat I said, "I can't do this. I can't sing this." I was more scared of it than I was of Cunegonde because it was belting. Musical Theatre can be very dogmatic, things must be done the way they were done before. If you do A Chorus Line, you'd better do the original choreography! The role of Narrator is one of those things. I'd just come back from working on the cruise ship and had all this money saved up. I blew it all on about ten different teachers trying to figure out the secret to belting. At the end of this journey I was working with one teacher having finally mastered my belting technique and I was singing away. She said, "Now can you do that in your head voice?" I said, "Why would I want to do THAT??" She said, "Just try it for me." So I did and then she said, "WHY would you ever want to do anything else?" So, after all those hundreds of dollars and voice lessons, the most valuable thing I learned was - I can just be me.

(The Narrator, by the way, is the role for which she received her Barrymore nomination)

ME: Speaking of teaching, I know you've been doing some of that yourself.

LIZ: Yes, teaching is another thing about which I’ve become very passionate. At the same time I was taking Steve Pacek’s class, I was working for Maureen Mullin at the Arden doing an outreach program called Arden for All which correlates to their children‘s programming. They train theatre artists and send them out to public schools. We teach the text and a little bit about the play and they get to see the play for free. The idea is play, have fun and learn about the play but really you’re teaching them grammar and the basic building blocks of story and writing. It was great to get those nuts and bolts in but sometimes the lessons were so oriented toward meeting the requirements it sucked the fun out of it. So, I tweaked the lessons a bit. Then a month later someone from the Montgomery Theatre called and said they had a pilot program and needed a couple of teaching artists who could come help them build it from the ground up. So, Maureen said, “Well, I have this one person who was really ballsy and changed my lessons plans, maybe she thinks she knows what she’s doing.” So, they brought me on for this project and it was huge! I partnered with four teachers from High Schools in Souderton. Two of them were English teachers, one of them was a Chemistry teacher and one of them was a Trigonometry teacher. We brought theatre into the classroom and made learning fun. I enjoyed it as much as performing because I got to use other parts of my brain.

ME: That sounds so interesting. Can you tell me a little about one of the programs you did. How about the English class?

LIZ: They were studying The Great Gatsby and we created this one idea that was based on Facebook because social networking is such an important part of the story and the kids have this framework built in ready to access. They understand what social networking is now in a way that when I was studying The Great Gatsby we never would have been able to fathom. Facebook was blocked for the school but we used a similar program that allowed us to create profiles for the characters in the book. They were then able to make “friends” and send private messages and public messages to each other. So, the students got to see the whole social interaction and the intricacies of how the characters related to each other. Even the kids who initially treated it as a joke were in character!! It was awesome!!

We also did a section on jazz. F. Scott Fitzgerald called himself a writer of the jazz age. So, I brought in a bunch of jazz recordings. I also introduced the students to several musical terms such as scat, syncopation, and chromaticism and helped them make their own links to the literary parallels.

I found it all just as inspiring as working on a character on play, maybe even more so because of the ripple effect. I also have such respect for teachers who do this year round. I enjoy being the breath of fresh air that can come into the classroom.

ME: Do you have any other creative outlets? I mean besides teaching, acting, singing, dancing and trapeze work?

LIZ: Yes, I kind of discovered it by accident. I started writing music last year while I was working on a cruise ship. The discrepancies between my living conditions as a performer and those of the other staff angered me. After weeks of seeing the injustices toward them I got so mad I had to write something. I didn’t sit down one day and think, “Now I’m going to be a composer.” It was more like working out my frustration on the piano. Some people punch pillows, I pounded on the piano keys. Then, words surfaced and suddenly there was a song. It may not be a great song but it was an outlet. I found that after I’d plugged into this I could express other things. Then I started playing my songs for people and I would see their reactions. It was such a simple yet profound experience to be able to sing about my heartbreak and then suddenly theirs would come to the surface and they would tell me how they thought the song was about their family or their loved one. I kept writing because I wanted to help other people. I didn’t want to make money or even make a recording or have my songs published . I just wanted that experience of being able to sit down in a little room at a piano with a few of your friends and say something you don’t have to courage to say outright. You can say it in a song and it’s OK and they can listen to the song and cry and it’s OK.

It’s so cheesy but I was reading Eat Pray Love on the ship and there’s this part that talks about how some of the major religions of the world explain human suffering. The way that Elizabeth Gilbert explained it was, Christians believe human suffering comes from original sin. Buddhists believe it comes from desire and if you can let go of your desire you won’t suffer - as much. Then there are the Hindus who believe (I just love this) it’s just a case of mistaken identity. We suffer because we believe we are individuals and we think we are these lonely, isolated organisms that are totally alone in the universe and that our suffering is our own private burden. Whereas, if we knew that we aren’t alone, that we are a part of this huge fabric of infinite interconnectedness then our suffering wouldn’t be so great. We would realize that everyone has the same experiences. When I play my songs for other people I can see that web, I can see my connection to every other person in that room so clearly.

ME: Do you feel any difference between using your words as opposed to singing words someone else has written?

LIZ: Yes, but I sort of cross the wires. I find it can be a really successful mad scientist experiment when I’m singing someone else’s words to try to make them my own. Whereas when I’m writing my own material instead of making it about me, me, me, sometimes it’s easier to zoom out and write about something I know nothing about. It’s like throwing out a larger net, then you reel it in and say, “Ok, this works, this works and this I obviously know nothing about.”
ME: I’m also wondering about the two mediums from a very raw, creative output standpoint. In theatre we have many other people’s input, the director tells you this, the choreographer tells you this, the vocal director tells you that whereas when you write a song it’s much more direct.

LIZ: There is a joy in my personal creative projects but there's also an aspect that’s truly terrifying because it’s just you and it’s your fault either way. I’m coming back to Elizabeth Gilbert. Have you heard her Ted Talk about Creativity?

ME: Yes (you can find it here)

LIZ: She says that genius was considered to be this separate entity that comes to you and inspiration comes through that. So, if it was good you couldn’t take all the credit necessarily and likewise if it was bad you did have to take all the blame. I think when I’m creating something, the most important thing for me is patience. I want it to be right the first time but it doesn’t have to be and that’s why it’s called the creative process. It’s frustrating but that’s also the beauty of it. When things are born in nature normally they don’t happen over night. Sometimes it takes days, or weeks, or months or even years.

There’s story of the acorn and the oak tree and how the acorn has this force pushing it up out of the ground. But, there’s also there’s another invisible force which is the actual oak tree itself projected in the future that is pulling it up and saying , “Come on, you can get there, you can reach it.” I think that works for artists as well. You can say, “OK, I’m only this far off the ground at the moment but it’s exciting to know that there’s still space to grow.” If I hit the ceiling every single time I sat down to create something, I’d be bored. It can be hard because it entails a lot of failure along the way.

I have friend who is a director in town and she said, “Why do we do it? It’s embarrassing. Why do we choose to do something in life where we constantly fail?” We try and try and maybe one of these projects that we try over all of these years might succeed.

ME: (laughing) and it’s all public and they write about it in newspapers…

LIZ: I know and we do it over and over!! I guess we’re oblivious to that. We don’t care how many times we fail. We keep trying and you have to treat success and failure as

TOGETHER: impostors. (we’re remembering an earlier point in the conversation when Liz mentioned that her Dad introduced her to Rudyard Kipling’s poem, IF and how it has been some of the best advice she’s received.)

LIZ: It’s not about quantifying it. It might be kind of impossible to take the pressure off of yourself when you first sit down to the blank canvas to say, “It doesn’t matter if I succeed or fail because they’re both illusions and it doesn’t matter if I finish it today or twenty years from now," because we do carry all of these social pressures with us when we sit down to create. But, I know when I’m most connected to my inner child I’m not thinking about judgement, I’m just expressing myself. So, maybe that’s selfish but it’s important to be selfish sometimes.

ME: Well, perhaps the initial impulse may be to just to get the thing out on to the piece of paper but then comes the part where you share it and I think that goes back to what you were saying earlier about being interconnected and that’s why we share our stories.

LIZ: and that’s selfless because there’s that gap you have to bridge and the choices you have to make to share and that takes a lot of courage. So, it’s no longer about you.

ME: Since we're talking about courage, how do you approach auditions? So many of my students find them terrifying. How do you frame them for yourself?

LIZ: I try not to want it too badly. I tend to sabotage myself the more I think, "I need this job" or "I would be perfect for this role" or "I hope this person doesn't show up for this." Those kind of thoughts are completely useless and I've left most of them behind. If I find myself wanting a part I will try to tell somebody else about it. It's sort of like audition karma! If I tell my friends who are also my competition, it takes the pressure off of me and I can't want it as badly now. So, spread the love! And remember that the real audition happens after you get the job. You don't get jobs from auditioning as much as you get jobs from jobs. If you're lucky enough to get a good gig just do your job and be on your best behavior and pour yourself into it - all your energy, all your eagerness, all your creativity and that will get you ten times more jobs than one audition will. So, when you audition just use the talents you've been given in the best way you can. Share. Go in and say "here" and a little bit of that invisible fabric will appear if you do your job right - and that's all you wanted in the first place.

The Ripple Effect of Jenny P

Meet my friend, Jennifer Pilong - singer/songwriter, actress/playwright. When I decided to venture into this interview experiment Jenny was the first person who came to mind. In fact, the person and the idea basically came together. Now, I know MANY talented and creative people but Jenny seems to be dedicated to the creative process itself. As she says, "I have a real fifth chakra thing going on!" She has her hands deeply in so many mediums I was curious to know how she balances it all.

I first met Jenny in her incarnation as an actress. She is a card carrying Equity member who has been performing professionally since she was 17 years old and whose theatre credits are too numerous to mention here. Just believe me when I tell you she's a powerful and organic performer.

On the other side of the stage Jenny has musically directed some theme park shows, written a Christmas show which was performed at the Scottish Rite Theatre in Collingswood, NJ and Snug Harbor, NY. She also co-wrote the musical Fruitflies which was part of the Philly Fringe Festival and PGLTF. Most recently she wrote Ripples, a beautiful play about how the ripples we create can make a huge difference. Ripples had a reading at the Walnut Street Theatre this spring and after a few revisions, Jenny is now in the process of submitting it to other theatres and festivals.

Jenny-the-singer is also very busy. Jenny and her song writing partner, Stephen Kocher, make up the singer/songwriter duo, Jenny & Me. They are, as she says, "two happy kids with a penchant for sad songs." She also lends her powerful voice to Hotsy Totsy, "a three gal band that sings killer three part harmony in a style reminiscent of the Andrew Sisters."

As if all that isn't enough, Jenny also designs jewelry, paints, is a "bonafide fancer (that's a fake dancer)" and has recently started the lovely blog, Tiny Stone Big Ripples.

Jenny and I met for coffee last week and had a wonderful conversation. Here's some of what we covered :

Me: Jenny, you are involved in so many creative endeavors. Is there one that you consider your main discipline or are they all equal in your mind?

JP: I think they're starting to become equal. In the beginning, it was singing that I felt most comfortable with but then I got to AMDA (the American Musical and Dramatic Academy) and I realized that it doesn't matter if there's nothing behind the voice. One of my teachers said, "It's nice but it's vanilla pudding." At first I thought, "What do you mean, I just hit a high b-flat!!!" But after my initial impulse I immediately got it. I started putting the intention into my singing and that led naturally to the acting.

I've also always written but never with any discipline or intention until I became an adult.

Me: That leads me to another one of my questions. Did any of your talents come as a surprise to you?

JP: No. I was always drawn to anything creative. If we would have had more fat cabbage when I was growing up I would have taken any kind of dance class, painting class, ANY kind of artistic class I could get my hands on.

Me: Do you ever feel that because you are involved in so many different areas that one suffers while you concentrate on another.

JP: I used to. I always used to say, "If I'd just focus on one of them I could probably be really successful at it." And so, I had to make some decisions. I closed my on-line jewelry shop and sold off my inventory because I decided that the jewelry was just going to be for fun and just for me. I had to decide what I really wanted to make a living doing and I really want to make a living with something like Ripples. I want to write plays that make an impact and be an actress/singer. The acting/singing/writing all seems to work together for me.

Me: Has the fact that you've decided that some endeavors are for fun and some are how you make your living changed your approach to any of them?

JP: No, not really because I still love them all!! I guess the singing/writing/acting thing is just what resonates most strongly for me. I have a real fifth chakra thing going on. There's something about putting forth my truth...!!

Me: Is your creative process the same for everything? For instance when you're working on your jewelry, do you sit down and just start stringing beads together?

JP: Yes!

Me: And when you write, do you just sit down and start stringing words together?

JP: Yes!

Me: So, it's basically the same process?

JP: Kinda. For instance with Ripples, about ten years ago I said, "I want to write this show and I think it's going to be about 'this'." But, I didn't have the focus then. I wrote out the concept, some character sketches and a couple of scenes but that was it. I didn't touch it again until, well, just last year. But, when I started working on it again I scrapped just about everything except the core of the original concept and most of the characters. Then, I just started writing. I write long hand which helps free things up for me. I have this thing about how my writing can't be seen until it's perfect. (Laughing) I'm working on that! But, there's something about the long hand that frees you from that because who's going to read my chicken scratch. I can barely read it. So, I can write and even if I think, "this is crap" who cares because by the time I get it to the keyboard it's going to change.

Me: You mentioned that when this concept initially came to you, you were younger and didn't have the discipline needed to finish it. Did you have to deliberately create a writing routine for yourself?

JP: Well, I started again last summer... and the Phillies games came on at 7:00pm...so, I would make myself sit down at 4:00pm and say, "You don't have to write the whole time but you don't have the Phillies until 7:00...! So, I'd put on Annie Lennox or something cool and relaxing and I'd just write. Sometimes it was godawful hard, like extracting a tooth and sometimes it was easy. I also gave myself deadlines like, "I want Act 1 finished by here, the edits done by here. I find I work better that way even if they are self imposed deadlines. Otherwise...

Me: You may not bring the project to fruition?

JP: Right.

Me: So, now Ripples is in a transition phase, recently re-edited and ready to submit. How do you flow to the next project? Does something catch your eye, do projects seem to just come into your life or do you deliberately say, "Basta, I'm done with this" and then seek out something new?

JP: All of the above. For instance Sadie (Jenny's six year old friend) was over the other day. She was sitting at the piano and she was singing and making up songs. She looked up at me and said, "It's better if you close your eyes." She had no worry about whether anyone would think it was stupid. She was just in it! The whole day was like that. The next day I wrote a song.

(the song, by the way, is Circles which is wonderful and which you can listen to here)

ME: Do you ever get stuck?

JP: Yes.

Me: How do you get unstuck?

JP: I find that spiders show up in the house when I'm stuck or when I need to get moving on something. Or, I'll dream about spiders, which are about creation and weaving. So, when the spiders start showing up I know it's time to get moving. I also write everyday but it's just writing...

Me: Like what Julia Cameron would call "Morning Pages?"

JP: Yes, just free flowing to get all the crap out. Sometimes, I walk or meditate or have a six year old over.

Me: What feeds you creatively?

JP: Louie, Louie and I together..

Me: Yes!

JP: We are pretty much always in collaboration.

Me: Are you good about taking care of yourself when you're really immersed in a project?

JP: I'm better. I'm starting to recognize that those little things can get me stuck if I don't take care of them. I can't work until the checkbook is balanced or the apartment is clean but again - Louie! If I'm really immersed in a project then he's got those things covered and he brings me sandwiches. And vice versa, I do it for him.

Me: OK, this question is mostly just for me because we both operate in the world differently than most people. Our schedules are much different than those of the rest of the world. I find I need to follow my natural rhythm, in fact, if I don't it can be one of the things that blocks me.

JP: (agreeing) YES!

Me: And, it seems to me that you're totally OK with the way your rhythm falls.

JP: Yes!

Me: So, if you get up at 2:00 in the afternoon, you're OK with that?

JP: Yeah! Louie says, "Don't TELL people that" and I say, "Why not, it's AWESOME!!" But, I've been this way all my life.

ME: Me,too, but I always feel guilty. Everyday I get up and say, "OK, tonight I'm going to bed early and I'm going to get up early."

JP: I have NEVER felt guilty. I've never felt I have to be a certain way. I think it's easier to just go with the flow and adjust as you need to.

Me: Are there any other ways that you have to adapt because the world works one way and you function differently?

JP: Well, it sucks that things close just when I'm ready to start something!

Me: What's next for you?

JP: Well. I'd like to do a full recording of Jenny & Me, I've been hitting the audition scene again and I'm getting ready to submit Ripples.

This is where the "interview" morphed into a full on conversation about where to submit the play, working styles, former roommates, SYTYCD, the Tonys, energy medicine and well - you get the picture. So, imagine yourself sipping the beverage of your choice, relaxing, and enjoying the laughter and vibrant energy of Jennifer Pilong. Let the vibration of her mantra, "I am a creative being here to bring peace, joy, healing and harmony to Mother Earth and all of her inhabitants" ripple over you!

Coffee Creativity Connection

I am so happy that I am following through with the inspiration to interview the many interesting, talented and creative people I know. My life has been enriched in a myriad of ways by them and I know that by sharing their thoughts, words and ideas here they will enrich and inspire many other lives.

After my first interview I can already see that this is also going to be one of those experiences that will return to me a thousand fold. What a wonderful, joyful, unexpected bonus! The interview process gives me the undivided attention of these folks. Given that they are talented and highly creative they are busy and in demand. Although I know, have worked with and socialized with them, we have not had these kinds of conversations that allow me to see more deeply into who they are.

My first interview took place yesterday afternoon. We laughed, talked, laughed, got way off topic, laughed, connected and when we finally came up for air I couldn't believe how much time had passed. I am already planning our next get together. I feel so blessed to have her in my life. I know you will enjoy getting to know her, too. She is a singer/songwriter, actress/playwright whose mantra is "I am a creative being here to bring peace, joy, healing and harmony to Mother Earth and all of her inhabitants."

I'm off to transcribe and organize. Look for the interview in a couple of days.

Auditions

Part of what I'm exploring here on my little ol' blog is my creative process. My absence from blogging is worth exploring because it is indicative of an aspect of my creative way of being but I will write about that later. This time I just want to remind myself of my typical reaction to auditions. I'm not sure that at the age of 48 I can retrain myself but I certainly can and do recognize the pattern.

I rarely feel "nervous" about auditions. Instead what I feel is a sort of free floating dread and anxiety. No matter how good I feel prior, at about 30-24 hours before the audition I begin to feel hopeless. It's not just that I think I can't do the audition, I start to think that EVERYTHING I've ever done or will do is pointless and/or a failure. I feel what is akin to the deepest chemical depressions through which I've journeyed. I also begin to feel sick. I develop flu-like symptoms and frequently run a fever. Many times I'm unable to sleep at night, again, not because I feel nervous but because I feel sick or in pain. At the time I am going through all of this it seems enough to justify my never performing again. I could say, "If it's this much agony, then maybe it's your body telling you that you shouldn't be doing this." But, I also know that if I tough it out and just go to the audition, I will be fine. I ALWAYS find that burst of joy and adrenaline during the audition and even if I still feel unwell after the audition, I know that will dissipate within about 24 hours.

I've tried to re-train my mind, and actually, I DO think of auditions as opportunities and once I'm there, I enjoy them. But, my body has it's own way of responding. It's almost as if my body knows I must wrestle the demons out before I can effectively approach the creative fires of the audition process. I've learned to just acknowledge what is happening, to pamper myself a little but to just keep moving forward despite what I feel.

First Rehearsal Blues

We begin the process of re-mounting The Heidi Chronicles tonight. I always have such trouble with first rehearsals. You would think that after years of performing that this would be old hat to me. Unfortunately, I put myself through a ridiculous amount of torture every time. I can never sleep the night before - I awaken with some sort of free floating anxiety - it never seems related to the show but to life in general. When I finally drag myself out of bed I'm filled with dread about the impending rehearsal and then filled with guilt about the dread. Every self-doubt I thought I'd dealt with and put aside comes sneaking back into my mind. I become paralyzed - unable to do anything other than physically get myself ready for the rehearsal.

I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I could just bop along grateful and excited for the experience. But, this is another of my "who I wish I was and who I really am" moments. Due to the fact that I know other people occasionally read my blog, there is a part of me that wants to express only positive things and not contribute to the negativity in the world. But, it's not true, it's not authentic. The truth is - I'm frequently a big fat mess before the first rehearsal. That is the truth about my current creative process.

My only consolation is that after years of experiencing this irrational behavior, I know to expect it and I know it will pass. By the time I'm at the theatre tonight, I'll be fine and on opening night when everyone else is dealing with jitters - I'll be calm and happy ( I think that comes from my opera singing years when I knew once the show opened, the conductor couldn't yell at me from the pit anymore - hee hee!). Until then, I'm going to just go easy with myself. I'll go for a little walk, watch some mindless TV and try to eat something and keep telling myself over & over that this too shall pass.

Endings and Beginnings

The Heidi Chronicles is over - for now. We are slated to remount the show in September. I just wanted to make note of a couple of things before they escape my memory.

In one scene my castmate, Joanne, had to eat a breadstick. She was slightly stressed about it. It was a hard scene to start with, her character carried the scene and flitted from topic to topic. It required a great deal of concentration and the whole idea of adding food to the mix was a little overwhelming to Joanne. She solved her problem by taking just the tiniest little nibble of the breadstick. Then one night in performance the worst happened. The breadstick SNAPPED, breadcrumbs flew all over and Joanne was stuck with a mouthful of breadstick. She could have crumbled but because she had done all of her creative homework - it just opened the floodgate - she completely embraced it and suddenly she just relaxed and was able to really settle into the character. It was a great reminder of how facing our fears can open doors.

Like everyone, I frequently question whether I'm good enough to be doing what I'm doing and I wonder if what I'm doing has any relevance. Today we had a tiny, quiet audience but at the end of the show one sweet older woman stood up to give us a standing ovation. And, I thought, "That's enough. If all I did was move one person - that's enough. I'm in the place I am meant to be."

I'm also reminded of how one creative endeavor leads to the next. The cycle continues. Even as Heidi closes, I've been approach by two separate people regarding two very interesting projects. BUT, for now it's time to re-set, restore and re-stock the pond.

RECEPTIVITY

If you’re looking for my Wreck this Journal entry just scroll down. I don’t yet know how to post a direct link to it. I’m so glad I decided to take the leap and join Jamie Ridler’s reading group. Everyone has been wonderful and it’s so exciting to explore all the other blogs. I’m overwhelmed by the talent, creativity and generosity. It’s very inspiring!! I will slowly make my way through everyone’s entries. I’m in tech week this week - for those of you who don’t know - that means my every waking minute (and many of my sleeping minutes) are dedicated to the show that’s opening this weekend.

One of my “5 Things” last week was Uta Hagen’s dvd master class. It has led me to re-read her books and the following quote jumped out at me (my time to hear it).

“The most important thing to keep in mind when exploring and testing you relationship to others during rehearsal (or during a performance, for that matter), is to remain wide open and vulnerable to your partners. From the perspective of your character, be receptive to everything they do, to each action sent to you. Be alert even to the flicker of an eye, the furrowing of a brow, the slightest hesitation, the nuance of inflection or a tone of voice, their lightest touch…An analogy can be made between the stage and the tennis court: The strokes that are practiced against a wall may be executed brilliantly but serve little purpose until they are tested in a delivery across the net to an opponent, when the player knows that his next shot is dependent on how it will be sent back, on how he will receive it - during a singles or a doubles match. Our fellow actors must be treated as worthy partners, not as ball boys.”

This passage from Uta Hagen’s A Challenge for the Actor really resonates with me. I frequently find myself in the “good student” mode, focused on “doing “ - and doing it perfectly. Being a woman, I also frequently focus on giving. It is hard for me to receive. It never comes from a lack of confidence in my fellow actors but from a lack of confidence in myself. I always want to be sure that what I am “sending” is good . I still struggle with trusting myself enough to just open to what’s there and responding with my intuition. If I’m busy planning my next move - how can I be open to what is happening NOW? You must RECEIVE before you can SEND. I am going to make tonight’s rehearsal about applying this principle.

Digging my Way Out

(i wrote this over a week ago)

Part of what I’m trying to do here is examine my own creative process. It’s especially important to me now because I am trying to dig my way out of a creative abyss and I’m hoping if I make note now of what works and what doesn’t that it will help me in the future. From a performing standpoint, I have been stagnant since my last project which ended in November. I was exhausted on every level at the end of it and I needed a break. I think because I had allowed myself to become completely burnt out - it made it harder than usual to return to the process. Then, of course, the longer I waited the more insurmountable it all started to seem. So, my first lesson would appear to be to not let myself burn out. I knew as it was happening that it was happening and I didn’t take action. I should have taken time off, gone to get a massage, pampered myself in any way I could to help lessen the effect. I’d also given up yoga and meditation because I “didn’t have time.” These are two practices that are beginning to seem imperative to me.
Depleted, inert and out of shape I began rehearsals for A Midsummer Nights Musical. I skipped the first rehearsal because I still wasn’t ready to face the task of starting again. When I did finally get to rehearsal I felt like I was just going through the motions. I couldn’t see myself in the role, I felt nothing. Oddly, during this whole time I had a song that I couldn’t get out of my head. I was a little obsessed with it and couldn’t figure out why. Just yesterday it came to me - although it’s not a song from the show, it’s my Titania’s song. This has happened to me other times in the past when a certain song will represent a pivotal moment in the show to me. The song itself then becomes very important to the development of my character. I’ve learned a long time ago never to revel my secrets otherwise they won’t work for me anymore - so I’ll not name the song!! So, happily, although I didn’t know it, I was already subconsciously working. Finally, I read the play. I wish I could clearly identify what led me to do it. A sense of responsibility? Fear of public humiliation? Creative curiosity? I don’t know. Mostly, I think I just felt like it was my job to read it so I read it. That in turn led me to watch several different versions of the play and then the creative juices started to flow. Ideas started to form about the character and her relationship to the others. Seeing the set helped me, too. Although I was unable to see myself as the character I could see the character on the set and I could see myself on the set. Now after a week of inner work the two have begun to meld together. The “it’s my job” motivator also spurred me to look at the music and the funny thing about music for me is - once I start singing - I start to think creatively. I can’t sing through something through just to learn it. Now, at last, after a week of inner work, reading and re-reading the play, and exploring the music, I have begun the task of physically getting ready. This is the part I wish I would have maintained throughout my hiatus. It would have been so much easier to visualize myself as Titania if I didn’t feel like a fat, stiff, bloated mess. So, this would be another important lesson. Although it is a big pain in the ass, it’s much easier in the long run to keep the instrument in shape.

The Obstacle Is Actually the Doorway

As I prepare to tackle Lilli in Kiss Me Kate I've been working hard to get myself into shape vocally. I've been concerned (read OBSESSED) with "I Hate Men" because it seems to require a more "belty" sort of sound and I'm a more legit sort of singer. I've spent hours working on my sound trying to produce something that might pass for belt. Yes, I was breaking one of my own rules - bringing expectations. I'd become so absorbed with the sound that I had completely forgotten that my true goal was communication. I was imposing a certain sound on the song and myself - leaving little room for innovation. It was my voice teacher, Forrest, who brought me into the light. "You just need to tear this whole thing apart and make it your own whole new creation." DOINK!! Of course - and then the ideas came in droves about how to make this wonderful song my own and how to use it to show off MY vocal skills - not try to imitate someone else. What I had perceived as my obstacle was actually my greatest gift. I'm a little embarrassed that I didn't see this myself but it's a perfect example of how we block ourselves from creating. We make up stories about how something NEEDS to be. We invent these phantoms that keep us from our art and if we're lucky a smart, joyful voice teacher (with the energy of a spider monkey on crack) will show us that our phantoms are not real and will then gently lead us back to our work.

Listen

At a cast party for On Golden Pond tonight we entered into a conversation about acting. I tend to wander away from these types of conversations. I tire easily of the cerebral exercise of trying to compartmentalize something that is essentially inexplicable. But, tonight there was a young high school student there who was trying to make sense of all she had been hearing about acting technique. The actress who plays Ethel had the courage to say, "It all comes down to one thing - Listening. Listening, REALLY listening and being in the moment and then responding to what the other actor has said. Just listen and be in the moment. And, I'm not sure anything other than that really matters - backstories, motivations, blah blah blah - LISTEN!" I thought how true this is of any creative endeavor. Just listen and respond in the moment. Don't bring expectations, don't impose something on it. So often we want the security blanket of the intellectual work behind what we do. It takes courage to be in the moment, listen and respond. But, there's nothing quite as exhilarating or satisfying.

Ebb and Flow

Wow! It's been a long time since I've been here. The ebbs and flows of my creative life tend to be drastic. The fallow periods are so long and inactive that I often fear my creative life has left me for good. Although I posted some this summer and was in rehearsal for On Golden Pond I still can't say it was a particularly productive time for me. I've tried to come to peace with the empty spaces. I think they are inextricably linked with a low grade depression so it's hard to feel positive about them. I'm always desperately relieved when the fog has cleared (like the Claritin commercial) and I feel alive again. Thomas Moore wrote a beautiful book, Care of the Soul that has helped me immensely with my perspective on depression. I am slowly coming to see it as a gift. Just when I have my life neatly wrapped up, depression comes along and pokes a hole in it, blowing it all to smithereens. It leaves me empty, which, when the dust clears, leaves - POSSIBILITY. Still, I grudgingly accept the gift, wishing that I could just be happy and full of energy all the damn time even as the leaves fall from the trees and animals get ready to hibernate. In order to have what you want you cannot push against what you don't want. Is it all about "loving what is"(the phrase and book that has made Byron Katie famous)? I do know that as I stand here ready to tackle Kiss Me Kate with all of its particular challenges for me there is a deep solidity to my center that wasn't there just 3 months ago. The emptiness, questioning and soul searching of the past several months has led me to a place where I am ready to learn ALL the lessons from this experience. I think I started out as a singer/actress for the same reason many do - I loved it and I needed it and it was all I knew. Now, I think I'm pulled here because this is where my life lessons are.

January 14, 2008

It's been quite a while since I've been here. I've been busy with rehearsals trying to apply my new attitude. Today it was hard because we were dancing. In the past, I've tended to constrict - close myself off with thoughts regarding my inadequacy as a dancer. As if my lack of skill isn't enough, I feel I must keep reiterating the point verbally "I'M NOT A DANCER!!" I've been on the receiving end of this kind of mind set and I know how exasperating it is. I always want to say, "Just shut-up and DO IT!! Stop making excuses. You're just wasting time. " So, I said it to myself and tried to keep the demon voices at bay. It worked. I had fun and I caught on much more quickly than I have in the past.



I have two pages gessoed in my art journals but my body is tired. I don't know when I'll get to them. I've been coloring mandalas to stay visually stimulated and spiritually centered. I find mandalas very soothing and I frequently get great ideas about poems, acting choices or even what to make for dinner while I'm coloring. I own several books but I also found a great site that has lots of free mandalas to color. http://www.coloringcastle.com/mandala_coloring_pages.html

ZOINKS

It occurred to me as I drove to rehearsal tonight that as I "stayed open to possibilities" one of the possibilities could be that the director might say, "Do the line like this..." and if he did I could try it to see what might happen without being attached to any desired outcome. ZOINKS! It worked. My ego got out of the way, gone was my needy people pleasing side, I went with it just to see what would happen. Such a small change in perception made a HUGE difference!!

TRYING

Hard to remain open to possibilities when you have a director actually say to you, "Say the line like this." I know directors do this sometimes just to expedite the process but once it happens I find I'm almost immediately pulled back into that black hole of trying to please the director and MAKE something happen. It wasn't until I was in the car on my way back home that I slowed down enough for it occur to me that after I'd delivered what the director wanted, I could have put my focus back on the other actor, the energy in the room - ANYTHING - and remained open to the possibilities. So simple and yet so hard!