Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Keeping it Together (as a professional, that is)

Firstly, here comes the disclaimer: Who am I to offer advice on how to keep it together?

Yes, I do have a lot of work experience, the kind you might think would help me to be an expert on the subject of how not to become a sniveler, sappy, crybaby, girlie-man who cries when he sees an event, like a squirrel hiding their nuts in the ground.

Never drink alcohol before making a presentation of any kind (if there is any chance of becoming unwound or losing it, alcohol is guaranteed to bring on a performer's emotional undoing).

Certainly I'm not the first nor will I be the last speaker who worries about keeping it together (not losing it) when the subject of the presentation is one of such heart-rendering emotion. It tests our ability as caring human beings to keep from losing it; a time when we find ourselves unable to continue. I’ve been there on many occasions during the course of my professional appearances.

One would be inclined to think the ability to perform without an overt display of emotion would become easier as one gains in experience. Yes and no. The bottom line, of course, is who we really are as individuals.

Obviously, we’re not all the same. Some of us, by nature are just more emotional than others. An obvious assertion.

For the sake of conversation, I’m limiting what I have to say to those of us who make, or are destined to make presentations to groups in public.

Regardless as to whether or not we have emotional stability in our every day life, we are faced with the task of performing as professionals; reportage, being an event guide, or speaking on behalf of a group of people, either paid, or as an obligation to assist during a time of crisis. The thickest of human skin has suffered through a melt-down at always the most inopportune of times. It could come during an audition for the lowliest of jobs. Environment as well as subject matter, or what may have recently occurred in your (our) own personal life,

Activate the emotional trigger. When pulled, it creates a will of its own.

Holding it together while rendering the voice during a fundraiser commercial for deprived children is one form of public service announcement, which almost always promotes more emotional involvement than the norm. There are many more of similar category.

Have you ever wondered how people who appear to be like you in every way, manage to hold it together, and still show attachment for the subject, or the event they are tending to? This coming at a time when you are inwardly concerned with your own personage.

There are methods, tricks of the trade, supposedly designed to enable one to go on with his or her presentation, while experiencing a lip beginning to quiver or a mouth becoming dry, as a personal sensitivity to the subject matter begins finding it’s way to an uncomfortable place of no return.

I marvel at those who have mastered their own personal method of being able to perform with great passion, while being able to keep from presenting an out-of-control display of emotion. Some very strong men and women have shed a tear during one of these moments.

Many high profile and prominent leaders use the method of reading and rereading a script over and over again, until they supposedly become immune to experiencing an uncontrolled display of emotion. This method carries with it the risk of being perceived as uncaring.

Of course the easiest of all tricks to remember would be an inward feeling or expression of anger, or dismay.

(Even the wrong attitude can serve as something to focus in on in order to break away from what you feel is about to happen.)

What follows is a thumbnail look at some of history's grand men and women, who managed to make it through a variety of trying events.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt addressing congress, and asking for a declaration of war following the December 7, 1941 sneak attack on Pearl Harbor. He was deathly serious, angry, and personally affronted by “a date that will live in infamy,” as he put it.

Our president's visage was grave. Our country had suffered one of the worst indignities; we were hit, and our only alternative was retaliation.

For our president, tears were not an option. Can you imagine if FDR went before congress, and began to sob as he asked them for a declaration of war?

Sir Winston Churchill was in my opinion the best of the very best. Historians have a positive consensus of opinion regarding his ability to rally his country and, many feel, ours as well.

In 1941, as his country experienced the death toll of air raids as a nightly regimen, Sir Winston stepped to the podium in order to address the congress of the United States for the first time.

“[Japan’s leaders] have certainly embarked on a very considerable undertaking [Laughter]…What kind of people do they think we are?”

And for the above, Sir Winston received a standing ovation. Perhaps the most monumentally depressive moment in world history, was never the less treated with the aplomb and dignity only a person of his stature could possibly have effectuated.

"Undertaking" (the word), signifying the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and "undertaking" (the word) as the reference to the corpse at a funeral home, was delivered to congress with complete and total understanding. Hence a moment of laughter, ultimately followed by a standing and thunderous ovation of thanks for the encouragement.

In this situation… there was no time for the shedding of tears. He was a world leader, at work, leading!

The thought of breaking down never entered Winston Churchill’s mind.

Although FDR and Winston Churchill were experiencing a never before crises of overpowering magnitude, the scope of the historical events preceding their speeches far out weighed the grief of any individual's suffering. Their concern was for the survival of their respective countries. It becomes far more difficult to contain one's self when the suffering is individualized.

An athlete making a goodbye or farewell speech at the end of a career, upon retirement, often turns into a tearjerker for all concerned.

I’m always reminded of the movie “Pride Of The Yankees,” when Gary Cooper playing the part of the famous Yankee first baseman Lou Gehrig, steps up to the microphone at a packed Yankee Stadium, and delivers the now immortal line, “Today, I consider myself the luckiest man in the world”; there wasn’t a dry eye in the theater. He touched us as individuals. His loss became ours, and so the tears flowed. In retrospect, much of Lou Gehrig’s departure speech did serve as encouragement for thousands of people who found they too suffering through some form or another of life’s unforeseen trials. Doubtful if this category of speech can ever be properly prepared for.

Margaret Thatcher

At a time in her career when the press as well as the parliament was tossing rocks and boulders at her, she managed from deep within an effervescence, which served as a rallying point for herself and her country at the same time. She stepped up to the microphone on what was to be recorded as one of her most auspicious outings.

It came at a particularly trying time for the prime minister of England, but as opposed to succumbing to human and emotional upheaval, she followed in the sublime footsteps of Sir Winston, as she delivered with:

“Disciplining yourself to do what you know is right and importance, although difficult, is the highroad to pride, self-esteem, and personal satisfaction.”

“I always cheer up immensely if an attack is particularly wounding because I think, well, if they attack one personally, they have not a single political argument left.”

And for me, the most difficult performance assignment is definitely the one where I know in advance of the people who will be in the audience. Those who, along with me, have experienced a loss, or a change of guard, after many years of personal association.

A real life recent example of this would have been delivering the eulogy of the late great basketball announcer, Chick Hearn. (I’m glad I wasn’t the one chosen for this assignment). In this particular case, the high visibility of this very personal individual brings with it the additional pressures of a celebrity-packed audience.

(Note: If you’re ever called on to extol the virtues during the celebration of a person’s life, it’s a necessity to stay focused. Putting names with the faces in the audience can be a terrible distraction. Eye contact is not the key to a good performance in this instance. Seeing a close friend or acquaintance begin to tear up isn’t exactly a stabilizing factor.)

Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about the bad break I got. Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of this earth. I have been in ballparks for seventeen years and have never received anything but kindness and encouragement from you fans.

"I Owe It To Them" Attitude

Some events are obviously far more taxing then others. As the master of ceremonies at a local beauty pageant, the danger of me being driven to tears would not normally exist.

(I mean, how bad could it be, surrounded by a group of look good, smell good, bright young women who by nature are seeking approval.)

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Who Am I

What is it that helps you identify a person by the sound of his or her voice?

Sure the first and probably best answer would be "familiarity." That one's the easiest to remember.

If you chat with a person often enough, you most likely will be able to recognize their sound after just hearing a word or two. We all have our own distinctive voice print. High or low, fast talker or slow, or maybe as clear as a bell; maybe too darn soft, or way too loud most of the time. Some of us even might sound like they need to be oiled to help get rid of that damn squeaky sound. Or there are people like da harv who have that "lived-in" sound that some describe as whiskey, or dry, or used. Voice recognition. For sure it’s the same process as identifying a musical instrument. I mean a musical instrument that’s not plugged into a wall socket. I’m referring to the sound of a violin, or a guitar, or a trumpet. We’ve all grown up listening to these and similar musical instruments as well as listening to an enormous variety of sounds that emanate from the human instrument.

Just as there are many people who are very adept musicians, there are also many actors who are extremely good readers and, in addition to that, have a magnificent sounding instrument.

The very same may be said about singers.

What we’re getting at now is not a question of whether or not they have a recognizable sound, or how pretty that sound may be. What I’m moving towards is what we listen for as casting directors. What magic do these seemingly special people have? The people who manage to get the work. The "demand players," regardless of what art form they have chosen to pursue. Why do they manage to excel in the most subjective art form of all: The Voice Over. The verbal Picasso’s; each of these wonderful artists has developed their own comfort zone. We choose to call it their own "signature."

Imagine that we have a Stradivarius at our disposal. Arguably the best crafted and best sounding musical instrument known to man. Along with our Stradivarius, we are miraculously able to assemble the three most renowned violin virtuosos in the world. Each of our violinists will be playing the same piece of music on our Stradivarius. It’s the classical piece: “Schubert's Serenade.” As each of our musicians concludes their rendering, we find ourselves emotionally moved by the individuality of their musical interpretations.

Here’s the point. All three used the same instrument and played the same piece of music. We found ourselves completely entertained and spiritually moved by their performances. Yet, despite the similarities, there was noticeably a masterful difference that stood out. Each of our players had their own way of telling the truth. Each had an individual signature. When we examine the instant replay and slow down the tape, more of their differences can be observed without even listening to the sound. Each of our musicians handles their instrument with a different form of obvious care. Their appearance on stage is dissimilar; their stances have individuality, as do their facial displays. So what makes them different? What gives one a more dramatic feel than the others? What makes one sound as if only pleasantness has surrounded their lifetime?

The answer to all of these questions surely must be qualified as being subjective. Our experience with many years within the creative world has taught us, if nothing else, that methods for creating emotion can not be manufactured. Our proven method can only help bring out what was already there for you to either share or hide from the world.

Our musicians displayed honest emotions. What they had in common was two-fold. On one hand there were all the mechanical moves for making themselves comfortable. I refer to their setup. Their own way of coming on stage and with a nod, allowing that they were ready to perform. That was the obvious.

But in that singular instant of what appeared to be nothing more than setup time, something else occurred. In an instant almost too minimal to notice, the three of them in their own way displayed a calm and a confidence that emanated from their total and absolute belief: "I belong here. I am entitled." Every odor, every site line, every audience murmur was a reinstitution of personal joy. They reeked of belonging. And what in the name of hell does all or any of this have to do with voice over? The "what’s missing" is the fact that these professionals all were able to consistently visualize there past images of success. All this accomplished in an instant. And all attributed to one simple word: Reflection.

I’ll admit that what I’m about to share with you was said by a kid with a very high IQ. The fact that it was a five year old kid makes the simplicity and depth of what follows a touch on the over-powering side. Trust me for a moment more, I do have a reason for relating a poignant incident.

It happened on a warm and sunny day during a summer school break. The schoolyard on this Saturday afternoon was a bustle with a bunch of kids as busy as you could possibly be, doing what kids are supposed to do: Having fun. You all know how five-year-old little boys play. They go all out until they drop. Then and only then, they know that it might be time to stop. Mom might be calling them home to eat, or dad is there to put his own boy on his shoulders for the ride home.

One of the dads, as he helped to tie his son’s shoe, asked the little guy playfully what was keeping that big smile stamped on his face. “I’m thinking about what a great day I had today, and what a good time I’m going to have tomorrow,” was the reply to his father's question.

Well, you might be under the impression that my story is over. I don’t blame you. That was pretty powerful stuff coming from a five year old. I mean, the kid was able to reflect in order to feel happiness. But remember, I began by saying the kid had a very high IQ. Hold on... it gets better. Since they only lived a couple of blocks from the neighborhood school yard, our young group arrived home in no more than a few short minutes.

Our little boy's closest friend managed to make it home first. When our father and son approached their front door they found the friend sitting on the front porch with tears in his eyes. It didn’t take long to find out that the friend's little dog was nowhere to be found. It was one of those times when a kid knows that an end had come. The two boys sat there on the porch, asking about the dog. In a few minutes, Dad returned to the front porch and found the two boys once again in a good mood. That night after dinner, he asked his boy what had made his little friend happy again. “I don’t know, Dad. All I did was remind him of how great a time we had today, and how we were going to do the same thing tomorrow.” Wow. A promise of future happiness based on a five year old's reflection of the past.

While the afternoon was a fleeting moment in the day of a five year old, it never the less served as a lesson learned. Emotion shared freely brings a purity that can not be challenged. Here we have an incident when a five year old was able to bring comfort to his friend by reminding his friend of what happiness they had shared. Need I use the term "reflection" again? While it might not be necessary, I’m going to end this little sermon with a reminder: The most important commodity we might have been endowed with is a brain that gives us all the ability to recall a pleasant moment. Again, we’re back with my favorite tool for comprehension. The ability to recall honestly.

Emotion shared freely brings a purity that cannot be challenged.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

A Recent Disturbance

Not bad, I would say; after nineteen years of not keeping my love for the United States of America a secret, only one person who partakes in the services being rendered by Kalmenson & Kalmenson has voiced an objection to our generous displays of our country's flag.

The man who did so actually put his feelings in writing. He referred to the American flag as being “Harvey’s flag.” I was under the impression it was our flag. He pointed out: Politics has no place in the workplace. In his eyes, I guess I was making a political statement. I was under the impression our American flag was significant for all political affiliations. In this great country of ours, this complainer has the right to say just about anything he wants to. He also has the right to pick and choose attending whatever event is open to the general public.

Displaying our American flag is a prideful and patriotic gesture. For many out there like Harvey Kalmenson it represents a love I’ve had for my country from the time I was a little boy, and further cultivated as a wartime member of the United States Army.

My American flags will remain unfurled and unbowed.

Friday, December 10, 2010

To Tell the Truth

Remain natural. Be yourself. Don’t go for it.

The toughest assignment for an actor is to remain natural.

As a young director, I was warned by my mentors to try to stay away from asking an actor to be themselves. I was told that many actors haven’t a clue to who or what they really are. In fact I was also told that many actors think they know but are under a misguided conception of what their truth really is. Others might not want to know.

So here’s a very broad statement to chew on. If you don’t want to discover and practice your own individual truth, your chances of becoming successful as a professional actor will be unmercifully diminished. It may not make you happy to discover your truth as a human being, but knowing your truth will definitely give you a tremendous leg up as an actor.

There are times in my travels when an encounter with an actor in an everyday situation is disappointing at best. I'm referring to a chance meeting at some sort of function or during a casual coffee shop conversation. Coming away from the encounter with the feeling that this guy or gal came across as being rather shallow; they didn’t have the ability to share their true feelings with me. And then to meet that same person in the actor/director environment, only to be elated as well as surprised by their total ability to tell the truth through the eyes of another. That other person that I refer to is the character they happen to be portraying. What they don’t want to give into is the fact that, whatever they may think of it as, playacting is still a way of telling the truth.

Perhaps one of the greatest actors of all time said it as succinctly as any actor I’ve ever heard when he responded when asked during an interview what his acting method was:

“Well I just look the other actor right in the eye and tell them the truth. The truth was always evident in any role portrayed by that actor.” - James Cagney

Many actors who had the opportunity to be directed by Alfred Hitchcock usually were in for a big surprise when they discovered how little direction he offered in the way of acting. One day, when Carey Grant asked Hitchcock for some advice on how to interpret the meaning of a particular scene, Hitchcock responded with: “You’re here because you’re right for it.”

In his own way he was telling Carey Grant to be himself. That was the end of the acting direction. Hitchcock sought the truth and that’s what his actors gave him. During another incident involving Mr. Hitchcock, a visitor to the set had the guts (or the stupidity) to endanger his life by, without warning, asking Hitchcock to explain why he wasn’t looking at his actors during a rehearsal of the scene. Mr. Hitchcock’s reply: “I can hear what they look like.”

That response has become a major part of my professional career. For many years, I have earned my living listening to actors. As your audience, if you tell me the truth, I will buy from you, and I will allow you to influence my life.

Just as a reminder, the Kalmenson Method was derived by the means of close study of the most successful actors in our industry during the course of more years than I desire to call attention to.

Many of the attributes the foremost talents have in common became apparent to me. By and large these weren’t the actors that the general public described or held in esteem as celebrities. These were and are the journeyman actors.

John Houseman expounded on his credo for success. He advised us to be journeyman actors, to practice and study our craft, to search for a way to grow everyday, to be an observer with our eyes and with our ears, and to find a way to tell someone, anyone, a story that they might believe.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Goals and Aspirations

I’ve been privileged to work and be taught by some of our industries most recognized dynamos. I consider myself a gleaner. If a guy or gal had even a modicum of success, the Kalmenson sponge (that’s me) was there to look and listen.

Many of da harv’s tricks are nothing more than observances of some noteworthy professionals that I managed to be privy to.

That being the case, let’s try this one on for size. Relax, this may hurt just a little.

You get your chance to get off the bench and get into the game; but because you didn’t believe in yourself, or you were told you’d never get in the game, or you were just too damn lazy to get off that -- uh, butt of yours, and experience the pain of getting and staying ready. You marched up there not ready to sweat.

Not to worry, though. You’re part of a great big club of humans just like yourself. You are average. And because you’re average, you’ll never have to concern yourself with being recognized as a winner. That’s not to say that coaches in management won’t be aware of your average-ness. They know that you may be counted on to be a comfortable person. You’re satisfied with your lot in life. You’re on a level plane. Why try harder? If you try harder you might perspire and that could cause an uncomfortable situation for what may or may not come next in your life.

Well, what comes next in your life is the only situation that places the average person on the same level as the above average person, or "competitor." The reason is simple. None of us ever know what’s coming next.

The cards are constantly being shuffled and dealt out to us. Some of us manage to stay in the game. Others simply fold, throwing in their hand and searching for a more favorable game.

The average person feels that they have been dealt a series of lousy hands. The cards are always running against them. They never stop to think that maybe they happen to be lousy players. Luck just seems to be always going against them.

The fact is and always has been the same. Average people never win anything when the outcome is based on skill. Skills are always developed if they are nurtured. Nurture means practice, and a player who practices finds him or herself ready when he or she is called to get off the bench and get in the game.

In voice over, your game is known as "the audition." When you’re called upon to audition, you’d better be ready. You can’t be average and expect to have even the slightest chance of becoming a winner in our world of voice over. You must be able to read. I mean read without dropping words.

Can you imagine an actor who comes into audition for me and spends most of his time explaining the problems that this script represents? Sound familiar?

This actor wants me to deal him a new hand. The poor bastard can’t read! He’s a lousy player! But he thinks, once again, he’s been dealt a hand to play that’s bad. Guess what? I’m going to make his life a lot more comfortable. I’m never going to call him off the bench again. Not only that, I’m not going to provide that player with a bench to sit on.

When that player’s agents offers us his name for another of our casting calls, it will be explained to them in no uncertain terms that their player should not be recommended to us again. The reason is simple: Your actor better learn how to read if you expect him to play in our game.

Well, at this point if you think I’m a cruel guy, you too should find a different game to play in. Read no further, it’s going to become more uncomfortable for you, but while a higher degree of discomfort sets in, take pleasure in the fact that now you’re joining a more select club. You’re part of my favorite group of people: Those who fall into the select crowd that wear the "above average" label.

These are the actors that we rely on to make us look good as casting directors. We call them in to audition knowing that we will always get an above average performance, regardless of what the script portends to be. These are the Los Angeles, New York, and Chicago professionals; the big leaguers.

They come to play every day. They practice their craft each and everyday. They’re constantly seeking a new and magical approach that will give them that necessary winning edge. I’ve even heard some of them use the term “winning edge” in conversation.

In truth, what has happened for them is that remarkable acting phenomenon called the breakthrough; that moment when true actors find themselves able to convey honest emotions.

They no longer worry about words. They no longer concentrate on what they might happen to sound like. In our world they no longer concern themselves with selling the product. They seek out a variety of stimuli that might enable them to convey as the vendor of truth a reason for their listener to become influenced by their message.

The question remains the same—How did they manage to move on up?

It is pedestrian to say, without practice, forget about making it. I want to strenuously emphasize a couple of simple points that might help you with your goals and aspirations.

To begin with, don’t change — modify. You’re already perfect, so why try to change. Besides, you shouldn’t screw with Mother Nature. Consider yourselves as "the chosen." Let’s try on a sample session experience.

Lets say you auditioned and you won. They picked you because you have the perfect attitude, temperament, approach, and perhaps even hat size. To make things even better when you show up at the session you discover that the producer even dresses the same way you do. It appears that this will be the perfect gig. But after you do the first take exactly the way you did it at the audition, the producer says, “I’d like you to be a touch more forceful on the next take.”

This is the end of the sample session. Stop now. Go no further.

You have no choice, as a must for every audition, session, and even when you’re alone at work practicing your craft. The producer did not ask you to change who you really are. He asked you to modify your approach. We’re talking about behavior modification. Not changing who you are as a person.

You know and understand your “signature.” You’ve got it down cold. That’s not to say that as time goes by an actor’s signature won’t vary. Life has a way of doing that to all of us. What we’re saying is that an actor should make his performance corrections by a modification process within the structure of his individual truth.

When you work out at home, make it a point to modify the direction you’re attempting. In other words don’t read the same script the same way thirty times in a row; exactly, exactly, exactly. Modify the script as a whole and modify your transitions. An attitude change on a single word or phrase can often make the difference that the producer is looking for.

Make your goals with regards to working out a procedure that requires you to modify scripts as you rehearse them. Try on for size the "getting ready" process. Know that you will be the one they will call to come out and save the day. Never be satisfied with what you have accomplished as an actor. It’s always yesterday’s news.

If you treat your acting goals as a passion and not as your work, the modification that is necessary for your success will be within reach.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

A Penny For Your Thoughts

Remembering back a few years ago, when I started on my journey into never-never land, kind of makes me cringe today.

Without the foggiest notion of what acting was truly about and armed in my own personal cape of blissful ignorance, it was high gear all the way, until the money ran out. What I was fortunate enough to have had was a series of teachers with the magic ability to convey a message here or there that managed to make it through my extremely thick cranium.

Each of us has our own special button that is often difficult to uncover, especially at a young age, and even more difficult when the button is part of the male makeup.

There’s an old saying, “a penny for your thoughts.” When I was a young guy that was a common question. I can remember being out on a blind date and having that question asked of me. I happen to be a person who doesn’t have any qualms about sharing what might be going on in my head. In this particular instance it wasn’t a good idea or the correct thing to do under the circumstances. Nevertheless, my (still blind) date asked and I said, “This wasn’t a good idea for either of us, was it?”

What followed was my first real experience with a very uncomfortable extended silence and a distinct change of climate. What she did for the balance of the evening is commonly referred to as “the cold shoulder.”

(Fast forward.)

Years later, as I stood alone, stage center with a group of my workshop colleagues seated as the audience before me, I recaptured that “cold shoulder” moment and relived the question: “A penny for your thoughts.”

Our instructor had called upon me to, without words, portray a man experiencing an uncomfortable two minute period of silence, then upon her command, display a completely comfortable presence, while remaining alone, center stage.

I was able to become comfortable by reflecting upon feeling the relief after dropping my blind date off at home at the end of the evening.

It even included what I felt was a very cool thing that happened during my questioning following the two minutes. One of the students asked me what I was thinking about during the comfortable presence moments that brought the hint of a smile to my face.

Our teacher pointed out that often times reflection can stimulate memories that allow for more than one single attitude. It’s kind of like walking and smiling at the same time. That two-fold display of a cultivated attitude drawn from our memory bank opened up one of the most powerful sourcing tools that an actor must be able to call on.

Reflection upon one single moment can stimulate any number of feelings, either sequentially, or in an untold number of bizarre or surreal sequences. All are slices of life. Almost all happenings may easily be referenced from our vast memory bank. All (usually, that is) with one dominant exception. That exception is our own personal memories of physical pain. Nature has provided the human animal with a turn off that enables us to forget severe physical pain. The condition is an automatic one.

(Certainly there are people who can vividly reflect on physical pain, but they are the exception.)

So now the question comes up, what to do when the scene calls for our actor to show suffering being caused by severe mental or physical pain?

At first, our actor may struggle with his or her memory bank. They easily recall the twisted and broken leg suffered during a high school football game, or gymnastics. While they may recall the circumstances, the scene they are playing lacks the genuine truth that he or she was striving to deliver.

Our actor requests the teacher’s help. The teacher responds with, “We’ll discuss it again tomorrow.” Our teacher then hands out the homework assignment. It requires each of us to view the movie, “Brian’s Song.” The next day our teacher asks that same actor to recount the scene he had struggled with the previous day, but this time to think about the travail that occurred for Brian Piccolo when he discovered, as an athlete at the top of his career, that he was sick with an incurable and life-ending illness.

The result was our actor being able to reflect on Brian’s predicament. What came forth was a beautifully truthful slice of life. Our actor had reflected through the eyes of another.

And finally, that leads us to the question of how do we, as actors, develop the skill of being able to reflect through the eyes of another. My answer to that one is contained in my favorite word: Empathy. Understanding, awareness, being sensitive, and feeling and experiencing the thoughts of others without becoming subjective. And while it is my favorite word, it has become my fervent belief that it is also the most important tool an actor has within his arsenal.

Were it possible to make all the luck in the world happen for each of you, as opposed to it being merely a sincere salutation, then I would choose to say to all of you, “All the luck in your world. The world you have been able to choose and genuinely embrace for yourself!”

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Thanksgiving

Our thankfulness is daily, almost to the point of continual celebration over the blessings far more than Cathy and I could ever perceive as our entitlement.

So on this Thanksgiving Day, November 25, 2010, we say an additional thanks for all the friends, colleagues, and those of good nature who have provided us with an enormously joyous good year.

Good Thanksgiving to you and yours, in prayer and good deed.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Truth Be Told

The magic of the truth. When the truth is there for you, certainly no explanation is necessary. The lack of explanation regarding the recognition of the truth has always been the same.

Truth has always been the actor’s goal. While the word truth or its study thereof by a theatrical production company may differ dramatically, the end result will always be the same.

Most likely every nook and cranny in this great country of ours has its own version or method of guiding actors in their quest for the truth. The most famous of these nooks would be the “Actors Studio.”

In the thirties we had the “Group Theater,” its forerunner and inspiration being Constantine Stanislavski and the “Moscow Art Theater.” Stanislavski, the most searching, dedicated, and powerful teacher of acting in the history of the art, set in motion an ideal that has codified the truth.

On December 3, 1947, Marlon Brando, in an American play called “A Streetcar Named Desire,” put on display a most notable exemplification of the Stanislavski method. Two months earlier, in October, the play’s directors, Elia Kazan, Cheryl Crawford, and Robert Lewis formed a workshop for actors called the Actors Studio. It was there that Lee Strasberg devoted the next thirty years zealously to the development of the Stanislavski method. Fifty-seven years plus, and the method is still gathering momentum.

Method Acting: What was once an awkward admission is now a fact shared by almost every acting student in the country. Method acting has long since arrived. The Actors Studio continues.

Earlier in this piece I mentioned "Street Car" and Marlon Brando. It was in this play that Marlon became one of the first American actors to deliver a speech with his back to the audience. That revolution began long before Kazan staged it in "Streetcar."

There, in the middle of the first act of The Sea Gull, at the Moscow Art Theater on December 17, 1898, a group of actors was seated with their backs to the audience. That same audience, in unison let out a gasp at this sight. The director that night was Constantine Stanislavski.

It is important to know and understand that the year was 1898. Stanislavski had a slim background in directing actors. What he did have was an innate feeling for the truth, and a desire to change the pomp and circumstance that was part and parcel of the then Russian theater. Initially, Stanislavski actors were not the least bit creative. He staged the play as a dictator might. Not only did he tell the actors where to stand, sit, and move, but he also provided exacting line readings. His fierce desire to improve himself was a driving force in his lifelong study that was about to begin.

What I so personally admire about Stanislavski the innovator and teacher is what I got from him as a student. He was a man not unlike myself. I, of course, am not making a comparison of skills, but rather the acknowledgment, and lack of understanding he had at the beginning of his wondrous learning adventure.

I share with him in the belief that being a student is forever. Being an actor is a lifelong study. Answers reveal themselves when the student has lived and studied long enough in order to recognize the answers. And becomes wise enough to allow for each answer to not necessarily be that of the gospel. We develop along with our recognition that life oftentimes does not present us with the answers we happen to be in search of. Concurrently, our questions will forever remain an endless road representing a lifetime of query.

His system and ours is internal. We harvest our truth through and during a lifetime or in a mere momentary reflection.

Sights and sounds cannot be shared tomorrow in exactly the same way as they appeared today. The old childhood neighborhood revisited will be familiar, but somehow not the same.

And as Stanislavski proclaimed the wealth of our ever-changing environment, I found myself becoming a total believer. Your audience will be the informer, as well as your judge, jury, and provider for what can be the greatest passion in one’s lifetime.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Why Improvise; You have a Script

"You should tell them about the time, right in the middle of the third scene, when a cue was misinterpreted and the clock began to strike a full scene ahead of schedule."


Okay then, get off my back. I’m going to tell them now!


(The actor who happened to be on stage is far too public a figure for me to reveal, and I’m sure he reads anything and everything where his name appears. As a matter of fact, his publicist spends a tidy sum keeping his charge from making the headlines. I guess you know you’ve arrived when you have a public relations team whose mainstay is keeping your life private.)


While it is one of my more comedic recollections, please trust in me when I tell you it wasn’t funny at the time. But, I digress. Back to our (very young at the time) actor's prematurely climaxing clock, as we referred to it from that point on. We had a single actor, moving to down stage center and preparing to deliver his most important and most poignant speech of the play.


A long moment of silence, signifying his attitude of deep contemplation, when the clock began to chime. Without any display of outward anguish our actor looked into the stage left wings and caught sight of the actor who was scheduled to appear with him in the very next scene, when the clock should have legitimately begun to strike the appropriate hour.


The actor in the wings was visually unstrung, and immediately began perspiring as if he was the one being “screwed to the heavens,” as it was later on aptly described.


The audience had not a sense of what was transpiring before them. It was then, as a young stage manager, I became aware of what a true actor can accomplish.


(On stage actor hesitates in further contemplation looking skyward, then speaks, unscripted:)

"Thank you, oh Lord, for chiming your recognition and sharing with me the relief of what tomorrow will bring."


(Our actor then turns away from the direction of the off-stage actor as the clock continues, and he delivers the scripted cue line for the next scene. As the clock completes its tolling the next scene begins without missing a beat or our audience becoming privy to what the future holds.)

Success became ours to enjoy because of the improvisational skills of two actors.


Notes:

The premature clock became the scripted scene.

The fellow responsible for the clock striking prematurely could never be found after that evening’s performance. I had nothing to do with his disappearance. He was gone before I could get to him.


***


Here are some things I’ve gathered along the way. Perhaps you will find them useful.


A premise:

“No matter how talented… an actor must be sacrificed if he or she cannot contribute to the harmonious atmosphere of the group.”


Because I have found myself in charge of a great many of “Life’s Happenings,” I need the utmost of displayed confidence regardless of what is churning within.


Remember your elementary school report cards? They had that box on the upper right side of the card, which had to do with your social character traits. "Gets along well with others," "meets new situations with confidence," and "could do better," are the three I feel are the most prevailing attributes for any professional.


Now that you’re no longer in elementary school, the report card as we knew it to be has been replaced by actual human beings. I always get a chuckle when I’m told not to be judgmental. Try telling that to a living, breathing audience.


If you want to get along well with this group of people, your audience, learn how to convey the truth.


Believing in one's self is the strongest ingredient for showing confidence, especially when others are depending on your performance.


All creative people live with there own personally inflicted stigma of "could do better." If you’d like to avoid complete craziness, study your craft relentlessly!


Our life and our work is a process; albeit the fact it is set up backwards has nothing to do with our work habits. The more experience you acquire, the better you will perform, regardless of the creative form you’re involved with professionally. You may be gifted with God given talents, but so are many folks in our subjective form of life’s pursuits. The best of the gifted actors are the ones who work the hardest at the continued process.


And to you, permit me to gently offer :


Enter as if you are a blank page. Be in the here and now while thinking about your past, and at the same time, show a degree of wonderment over what the future may hold.


Fill your blank page with expressions of your past.


The song that you may have hummed to yourself as a child can easily be recaptured.


The marvelous or not so marvelous odor or scent experienced can readily change your facial expression.


Add to this the sounds of today. It may only be your own breath that you’re listening to, but nevertheless, it’s there for you to hear and feel.


Your ability to recall the past and listen to the present is a simple step towards sharing your being and self. Your audience of people will believe in you, if for no other reason than your courage in sharing who you were, who you are, and perhaps additionally, your aspirations for the future, one day to be revealed.


Studying

While looking at the pictures of various historical figures, one might wonder what goals and aspirations a particular figure may have had.


Question Them

What happened to them in their earlier life?

What music did they listen to?

What daily rituals may have influenced their lives, and affected the lives of their most intimate colleagues and loved ones?

Take notice of what age brings to the face of your historical figure. A line in the human countenance may bring an engraved attitude with it.

What do you see engraved in this picture from the past?

What does the face reveal? Bearing; demeanor; calm?


Plain and simply stated, look for the emotion. It’s as if you’re being introduced for the first time.


No salutations are verbally being offered by the other party, yet they are in most cases showing you a great deal.


Many of these expressions are ones that you might be revisiting. The look of consternation on the face of an historical personage may be the very same look that you yourself have displayed at one time or another for the entire world to see. We see, we experience, we borrow, and we do.


While I’m not sure which of my mentors uttered the words, “Go with the flow,” or “Don’t confuse the issue,” I am certain that simplicity was their goal.


"Keep it simple" was the essence. If the truth is the only thing to enter your mind, then delivering a truthful line is the only thing that can be delivered.


The doctrine of the Stanislavski system worked exceedingly well on the plays of Anton Chekhov.


Chekhov wrote truthfully about ordinary men and women. He searched for the inner beauty in people and exposed their triviality and vice. Chekhov’s influence drove Stanislavski to strive to create an artistically conceived image of life on the stage. Whether you’re an experienced actor, or one trying your wings for the first time, Stanislavski has become the most accepted system for any actor to grow with. Comedy or tragedy, the method has become our most revolutionary acting tool. Given circumstances, subtext, images, real or imagined, and the beat goes on, ever changing, and always demanding that the actor continue to develop their improvisational skills. It is not a question of whether or not the actor wants to. If the actor is to grow, and have the ability to meet life’s subtleties, vagaries, tragedies, or outright desperation, then the choice is a simple one. The method will help you grow.


So look into the faces of your historical characters. Live their joys or misgivings. Empathize and redeem what their faces offer. Then through motion, or sound, or both, become, be, and continue to be.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Veterans Day

Veterans Day, honoring the Men and Women who celebrate their faith in our country!

What brighter light could burn, than that which has been nurtured by those who have understood and appreciated the gifts that endow any and all, who may venture within the boundaries of this country's great heart.

Pray for them; they are yours.

Hk / December, 2001

Friday, November 5, 2010

My High School Shortstop




My high school teammate George (Sparky) Anderson; in memoriam.







From: Harvey Kalmenson, November 3, 2010

My high school shortstop is ill
Get well, get up it’s time for us to play
I wish I had the power to heal him
And the others I’ve lost along the way
I see him there with me, just yesterday
On this field at our school
Spring, the time for kindled dreams
And our Fathers are there
Each sharing their sons’ love of a game
Fifty-nine years since together we played
Since we rose to the heights
The title of Los Angeles City Champions
Our high school so proudly displayed
My Dad called him Georgie
And Georgie he will remain with me
When last we were together, and talked of the past
Not speaking as heroes, but rather how long our true friendship did last.
When dinner was over and hugs went around
Carol whispered to me about the loving wife I had found.
You did good Carol said, that’s the way those two are,
And have always been.
One final hug as my high school shortstop kissed me on the cheek.
Carol and George gave me a memory forever to keep.

For whatever I could possibly provide, your call will be served.

Monday, November 1, 2010

The Things my Mother Never Did, or Served Us

Can you imagine growing up without the benefit of having tasted peanut butter?

I was one of those guys who fell in love with the great American spread when I entered the United States Army at age nineteen.

It was one morning at breakfast when I first discovered the delight of the sticky, life-perserving substance.

There in the mess hall, in a huge "number ten can" (as they called it), was this marvelous substance, which became a life support system. Wherever I happened to be in the world, if there was a can or jar of peanut butter, I knew da harv was safe from possible starvation.

But aside from the great ability peanut butter had to provide the sustenance for life needed to make it in a combat area, there was also the trading value on the black market, which for a time was beyond belief. I can remember seeing those number ten cans being used as containers after they were empty. A tin or aluminum can was a valuable tool to a homemaker when there weren’t any “Crate & Barrels” or “Williams-Sonoma” stores in the neighborhood.

Some of the less reputable cooks in the service were making sizeable sums of money trading anything extra they had in their mess halls at the end of the day. As an example, a number ten can of peanut butter often brought in as much as fifty dollars on the black market.

Amongst the United Nation troops, the Americans, The Filipinos, and the Brits were the most familiar with peanut butter as a staple in their weekly diet.

Since peanut butter was originally patented circa 1890-1903, immigrants coming to the United States in that era from the European Eastern Bloc countries had no idea of what it was. Maybe that would explain why as a young kid I had never tasted it. With a dad from Russia, and a mom from Romania, one might understand why my mother never served it.

And then there was the artichoke. My mother not only never served one up, I doubt if she had ever even seen one as she was growing up. Well, this one I can’t blame on my mother being an immigrant. It turns out only four out of every seven people over the age of thirteen has ever eaten an artichoke. All seven know it is green in color, it should be eaten preferably warm or hot, and at a reasonably slow pace. Since it’s not a particularly filling course, it falls into one of the more expensive food sources. Artichokes are preferred more by women than men. Children would much rather have a hotdog or a peanut butter sandwich.

(The preceding information was gathered from my own office staff of seven, and should not be considered as an exact science, unless you’re soft in the head.)

There were many more things my mom refused to include in her culinary repertoire. My mom never gave in to looking at a recipe. If she couldn’t memorize the ingredients, or if the meal required too many ingredients, then you had better forget about it. Measuring cups were not things she believed in. It was always a handful of this or a pinch of that; and I guess that would have to be the main reason she was in the “Guinness World Book Of Records”, holding the title of "The World’s Most Inconsistent Cook" (The Guinness part is a fabrication, in order to make my story more endearing).

The inconsistency drove the family to tears, caused by the laughter from behind-her-back-remarks about her cooking.

On one occasion, the family was celebrating the return from service of a young uncle of mine, from my father's side of the family. They were the Russians with the heavy duty say-or-do-whatever-you-like sense of humor. On that night, my mother was making my favorite: Spaghetti and meatballs. My uncle Nat, the returnee, was seated near the head of the table next to my dad. Everything was very festive. The place looked and smelled good. About thirty family members gathered around the table as my mother, assisted by three or four of my young cousins, began bringing in the large platters of salads, meatballs and spaghetti, and all kinds of Italian rolls.

Note: I was eight years of age at the time.

Of further note was the fact no one from my mother's side of the family was in attendance. I can’t ever remember them socializing at any event other than a wedding or a Bah Mitzvah. Oil and water would be a good description.

All was going well as the salad began to disappear. Then I wondered why the room began to get quite as the plates of meatballs and spaghetti were started on. Around the room, the relatives began looking at each other in disbelief. It was then my mother came in from the kitchen to see how everyone was doing. The aunts and uncles tried not to show any radical expressions, up until a couple of them began to giggle. In no time at all it turned into raucous laughter. My mother, displaying one of her ominous getting-ready-to-explode look, shouted out, “Okay, somebody want to tell me what’s so funny?” My uncle Nat, trying to head off the problem, decided on his own form of humor. He picked up a couple of meatballs, one in each hand and proceeded to tell the group: “These things are like rubber balls. I bet they can bounce.” With that, he attempted to bounce one on the dinning room floor. While they were kind of tough, they were still unable to bounce. And then he tossed the other meatball to my dad at the head of the table. My dad reached up and with a display of perfect timing caught the meatball and placed it neatly back on the original serving platter. It was quite a spectacle. Everyone at the table began replacing their uneaten meatballs. My uncle Nat stood up, wine glass in hand, and proposed a toast to my mom. “Here’s to Lill,” he said. "She made the best spaghetti I’ve ever had in my life.” Without exception, all stood and congratulated her. I have no idea what happened to the meatballs. I can’t recall my mother ever serving them to a group again.

Today, let it be known, I still list spaghetti and meatballs at the top of my favorites list, even if the balls are made from turkey. I go for what I call the old-fashioned spaghetti. I don’t like the crazy, disguised girly kind. And meat sauce should look like how meat sauce should look; tomato color is the only acceptable color.

Artichokes have also become a disturbingly appealing form of da harv's sustenance. In the beginning, I was gripped with a most painful forbearance at the very sight of this green misshapen vegetable form. How or why anyone would order an artichoke was beyond me. The name itself makes me think of a person struggling to breathe.

Then one day, because I wasn’t asked what I felt like eating for dinner, there before me, a very large junior form of palm tree was placed proudly on our dinner table for all to see. Lo and behold, I was the recipient of my very own man-sized artichoke. This gentleman was trapped. I hesitated for a moment as I watched our two guests and my wife dive in with reckless abandon. I immediately discovered that artichoke enthusiasts have a great deal in common. Most eat as if they were raised by a barbarian cult, following the edict of eating as fast as you can because some enemy may take your food away from you.

The other obvious characteristic is their lack of feeling in their fingertips. While I had trouble peeling off the leaves from the main body of the choke (as I affectionately called it) these people, my wife included, without any thoughts of burning palates and no longer having discernable fingerprints, proceed to tear into these butter drenched, malformed, distorted, asymmetrical, and obviously selectively addictive gourmandizing delight of the above-the-crust normalcy, allowable to a privileged few.

And all of what I’ve said, now having been said, I would like to say… I have grown to love my wife’s artichokes. I admit without any real consequence or peril of misunderstanding… hers are the best artichokes known to man (actually, to this man).

Friday, October 29, 2010

I Take It Personally!

Trying not to complain usually isn’t a difficult task for me. I like to heal a wound and move on to higher ground. Most of what people do and say I can manage to take with a grain of salt. The old adage of not taking something someone says to you personally is a practiced art form, but while I endeavor to follow the credo, I still have a degree of difficulty with it at certain times.

This week, an event occurred which I took personally, and will always feel the way I do about it.

While I have stated my feelings in past blogs, I must repeat a point or two as a reminder of the emotions I will never hide, I will always take personally, and will continue to wear on my sleeve.

As a boy of nineteen years of age, I found myself serving my country in the infantry of the United States Army. Frankly, at that attained age I had not yet felt my mortality, and therefore was not gripped with the extent of fear a great many men in my position were experiencing twenty-four/seven.

What I was experiencing and feeling as deeply as anything I had ever felt in my life was pride. I’ve said it before, and here I go again. My mom and dad came to this country as immigrants. Their love of the United States was displayed as unabashedly as any two parents could. That’s the kind of house I grew up in. It was a trait in them I strove to emulate. They would both be proud to know I have succeeded.

When the American flag was unfurled before us in preparation for our very first army parade, my emotions rose much higher than pitching a no-hitter for the first time in high school. I so totally took it personally. Harvey Kalmenson had been selected to defend his country: The United States of America. I think you might be getting my point. If not… I won’t be taking it personally.

Anyone visiting our place of business on Sparks St. in Burbank always knows when da harv is present and accounted for. I always place an American flag, as personal as it gets, on display up front for all to see. Da harv is in the building.

This week, my American flag was stolen. Whoever the culprit may be, I do not and will never wish them well.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

I’ve Never Had A Middle Gear

Don’t tell me about my great passion. This is who I am and who I have been for my lifetime to date.

Scenario A)
The gun goes off and you run as fast as you can for as long as you can.

Scenario B)
They give you the ball and you crash into whomever or whatever happens to get in your way.

Scenario C)
The pitcher made the mistake of being a little too high and tight with the last pitch. You get back up, and on the next pitch you stand in there with as much reckless abandon as God might allow and you swing as hard as you can, from the heels as they like to say.

The question is: Why A, B, or C?

The answer is simple: Exaltation!
You, yours, you’ve.
You were from birth, through childhood, and on and on forever and ever until death do you part from whatever it is we part from.
The charge of what you have to offer to any and all, never fearing the consequences of what may or may not happen.
Born with a middle gear missing.
While some can slow long enough to taste and remember,
I, of course, without choice.
No middle gear to slow the process.
None either to break down at an untimely moment.
Timely or untimely,
No thought about there being a difference between the two suppositions.

What I knew to be true was the sound of the gun going off, the excitement of being in first place, if only for a moment. But in that moment, they viewed my back, and I not theirs. Those with a middle gear could not share my experience.

Nearing the leaders never offers the ability to lead them!

Behind that larger than life teammate, the ball clutched with a strength equal to one's last chance to survive. Suddenly, you move aloft as never before equaled, as over the goal line you dive. There is then a solitary moment, which will remain only yours, you’ve flown by those with a middle gear. You will always know what it feels like to be alive.

That day when he chose to knock you down may have turned out to be different if a middle gear was to be found. What happened then was a simple thing.
The boy got up from the ground, swung his bat a few times dug his spikes back to exactly where they were before he went down.
And then the ultimate pitch came his way.
A crack of the bat, his moment to hear them scream; No middle gears that day, only all out living of a young man's dream.
Suggested from an idea inspired by

The actresses there to see me.

Kathy, Annie, and Jill
Monday, October 25, 2010
Three women there to see me!