To the Futureand Beyond

Take Five To the Futureand Beyond December 19, 2011 Ed Stelz Judy Chen, NY City Throughout the past 12 months, I have grown in so many ways as an actor and as an individual. From auditioning at Lincoln Center to working with great people in film and onstage, I feel truly grateful and humbled. However, even more valuable were the times I felt as though I were merely spinning my wheelsquestioning my decision to leave a solid career behind and wondering when I would actually get cast after attending hundreds of auditionsfor those were the moments that reinforced how much I truly loved to perform.Pursuing my passion has certainly made me more appreciative of every moment. Gone are the days of living in a rut and thinking that there was nothing more to life than toiling at a desk job, meeting deadlines, paying bills, waiting for the weekends, and going on a string of bad dates. Instead, I'm happily reading scripts, memorizing lines, and preparing for auditions. I am working on developing projects and productions I want to take part in and be proud of. I reprioritize my time on what is truly fulfilling to me. Having less of a social life doesn't seem like a sacrifice, especially since I get to devote the time I do spend with quality, genuine people who are my closest friends. The support of these friends and family may not make me invincible or feel any less defeated, but it has undoubtedly been the strongest force that impels me to continuously plow ahead whenever I begin to doubt myselfand those moments are still quite frequent.One of the biggest lessons I've learned as a result of being part of Take 5 this year stemmed from meeting people at auditions, in class, on the street, and even online who send emails to my website or Facebook page who found it necessary to share with me how my writing has resonated with them. And that lesson is this: Never underestimate the influence we have on our peers. When I learn from my cast members, I may not have told them explicitly or even known that something they did clicked in my mind until I brought the adjustment with me to enhance a subsequent performance, but we all wield that power to affect others nonetheless. Ironically, I have known since January what I would write for my December column, because regardless of what has changed in our lives and the achievements we have accomplished this year, our goal has remained the same since day one: to become better actors each day. When we progress in our craft, we improve any ensemble we are a part of. For my last sign-off, I want to share with everyone something I remind myself daily: I have no idea what the future holds, but I will do everything I can to get where I want to be.Thanks for coming along for the ride.Jenna Lamia, Los Angeles This month I've been thinking about listening. I remember one of my theater professors at Amherst saying that listening is nine-tenths of one's job as an actor. I think this is an alternate version of the oft-repeated "acting is reacting." And it is a wise and valuable bit of advice for an actor. But, as a writer, I've decided there is a higher form of listening, and that is "selective." Because I write for a TV show, I am constantly getting notesfrom the studio, the network, and the showrunners. It is my job to take in everyone's opinions, and to implement the suggested changes in a way that makes the show better. But it is also my job to have a clear enough vision of the intended final product that I don't let the barrage of opinions sway me off track, resulting in a hodgepodge of ideas that don't hold together in one cohesive story line. In trying to make everyone happy, if I am not careful, I will end up making everyone, including myself, supremely unhappy. Yet, if I have a distinct vision and a way to get there, chances are I will deliver something unique and interesting, even if it's not exactly what everyone had in mind. Because that's just it: There is no final creative product that is going to be exactly what everyone had in mind. I am not advocating ignoring anyone's opinion but your own (though I admit sometimes that's tempting), but I am saying that being clear on what your ideas are and sticking to them with vigor is a great quality for a creative person. If you are steering the ship and you don't know where you're trying to go, good luck to your passengers. Not everyone is going to like your output all of the time, but that's because art is unique and subjective. That's a good thing. As long as the final product is deliberate, I feel I have done my job, and that is true as a writer and an actor. Because this is the last column of the year, I want to use my remaining space here to wax nostalgic. It has been such a pleasure to read about all the other Take 5ers' adventures this year, and I'm grateful to have been included among their ranks. I will never forget buying my first Back Stage at a newsstand on 56th and Seventh Avenue when I first moved to Manhattan and eagerly flipping to the auditions listings. Then, a year or two later when my teacher at Weist-Barron Studios, Rita Litton, put me in an ad for her acting classes, I was so excited to be "in Back Stage," I saved the paper for years in a bureau drawer. Now I have a whole year's worth of Back Stages to save. Thank you so much for having me; it has been a real treat.Ed Stelz, NY City So here we are, nearly a year later. There have been 12 articles, two pilots, and half a feature written; several commercials and a TV episode aired; and the formation of a production company. Yet only a portion of my January 2011 goals is crossed off. How does this make me feel? Pretty solid! Let's take a look, though, at something a little more relevant: the things I failed to accomplish. I didn't make it into an Off-Broadway show or a feature film, and I didn't create any new casting director contacts. Now, we may partly blame this on the void that would normally be filled by a legit agent. But if we dig deeper, we see that my insufficiencies as an artist are truly at fault. Living in NY City, you learn to cope with its many annoyances and quickly appreciate its few conveniences. For instance, traveling to work means letting someone do the driving for you. And considering the amount of meetings and auditions I go to, this en-route time tallies up. But rather than flinging red, yellow, and black cartoon birds at wooden and stone structures, I use my transit time to delve into literature that, I hope, will aid in furthering my craft and career. Just recently, I blew through three books, one of which was Patsy Rodenburg's "The Right to Speak: Working With the Voice." (Patsy, if you are unfamiliar with her, is renowned for pioneering new vocal techniques.) I've constantly battled an internal voice demon. Between voice work at school and on my own, I was unable to get rid of it. It wasn't until I read this book that I understood the anatomical headlock that stifled my voice. On top of this, I finished "Film Directing Shot by Shot: Visualizing From Concept to Screen," by Steven D. Katz. Since the inception of my production company, I've wanted to learn directing for film, camera angles, shot styles, etc. Soon enough, I found myself applying these newly acquired skill sets to my writing and analytical processes for breaking down text. I realized, the answers to my problems are out there. If I keep searching, I'll eventually find them. Each and every one of us has a different journey with different hurdles to tackle. Now, I'm not one to get all cheesy and philosophical, but sometimes we forget the most apparent truths. There are actors out there who are blessed with a great on-camera look, a well-placed voice, and innate acting strengths. They sneak into the system fairly easily. Then there are others, like me, who don't and are faced with two options: improve and become the elite or quit and go home. Hollywood and Broadway do not have gray areas. You're either in it, or you're not. Okay, sentimental time: If I had more than 500 words, I still wouldn't be able to express how grateful I am to both Dany Margolies, our editor, and you, our readers, for riding side by side with me on this journey. It has truly been an amazing experience, and I hope my successes and my woes have helped you even in the slightest bit. Deborah Strang, Los Angeles Time is so relative. When I was 5, a year seemed to last forever. Now it lasts one-sixtieth of my life and is too brief, too brief. This is my final Take 5. I don't think I will miss worrying about deadlines, but I will miss this opportunity to reflect on my journey, to attempt to find the words to describe it, and to extract any meaning it might have. What an extraordinary, challenging, and mind-boggling year this has been. A year ago I was in Argentina, playing with penguins, dancing the tango, eating steak. Nine months ago I embarked on my first Ionesco play with my two fondest collaborators at A Noise Within, Geoff Elliott and Julia Rodriguez-Elliott, and in May it became our farewell to our 19 years in Glendale. In late September, we moved into our new permanent theater in Pasadena, and we had our first audience three weeks later. Since then, we previewed Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night," staged an elaborate gala opening night with a tented sit-down dinner for nearly 400 peopleincluding Pasadena's mayor and various dignitaries and long-, long-, long-term patrons and supportersand previewed and opened Eugene O'Neill's rarely staged masterpiece, "Desire Under the Elms," to great acclaim. We've had full houses, instituted new valet parking, increased our subscriber base by more than 25 percent, carpeted the theater, resealed the outside of the building, scrubbed the floors and sealed the concrete, and instituted and continue to learn a new database system, a new ticketing system, and a new computer and networking system. I'm not sure whether I should classify us as risk-taking innovators or insane fools. It is a major, major thing that we have accomplished. I recently reconnected with an old friend from graduate school who commented on the fact that I have managed to stay the course as an actor, and he attributed this to my perseverance. According to Webster this means "persistence, steadfastness, tenacity" and to persevere is "to continue in a given course in spite of difficulties, obstacleswith a determination not to give up." And yes, I suppose that is true, but sometimes I feel like a train just pulled into the station and I climbed on, or a door opened and I walked through. Perhaps what has led me here has actually been an openness to the task at hand, more of an ability to follow the course rather than stay the course. But however it has come about, I find myself in an extraordinary position at a historical moment in time with a company of artists whom I revere and cherish. I marvel at my present state and can only wonder where this path may lead. And now, life beckons. I have a callback for a new Aaron Sorkin episodic. Wish me luck!KC Wright, Los Angeles Talk about coming full circle. After a year of ups and downs, I will be starting 2012 with a new agent (I sign the contracts this afternoon), my SAG card, my first feature film credits, and a dozen amazing new projects under my belt. I remember wringing my hands in January, waiting for something to change. A few months later, I lost the representation that I had had since graduation and went from big network auditions to crickets. Something changed! Getting dropped by my agent was the biggest hurdle I've faced in my short career but also the best thing that could have happened. As one of the lucky few who were offered representation right out of college, I was never forced to make my own way. I'm not sure I was even ready for the career that I was striving for. But since parting with the agency, I've taken my place with thousands of other young actors in L.A. I discovered a world of talented actors with no impressive degree or family name to stand behind, who have learned to create their own opportunities out of a dollar and a dream. This has taught me to stop waiting for a change; the only thing I can change is me.It hasn't been easy starting from relative scratch, but it has been incredibly satisfying. Each new victory is doubly sweet, because it's proof of how much I've learned. And the more I learn, the more I understand that the learning will never end. A career where you're not an expert at 24? Imagine that! The most profound moments of the past year were rooted in the work. Being on set, even for unpaid or student films, is the greatest learning experience out there. Watching the other actors work, observing the crew, working with sound and camera equipmentall offer lessons not found in a textbook. The various projects I've worked on have taught me so much and given me a real hunger to work in film and television. I will always love the stage, but I'm thrilled to have found a subtly different craft that excites me just as much. I've also changed my attitude toward my business. I've always hated the idea of marketing, but I've come to realize that there is nothing shameful in building up my career. It doesn't have to be pushy and phony, either; it's about cultivating relationships, being a real person, and knowing that I can be of service to the people I meet. If talent, training, and skill are the seeds of a career, relationships are the watering cans.It has been an amazing 12 months writing for Back Stage, and I'm sad to see it come to an end; this job is a regular roller coaster, and no one likes to ride a roller coaster alone. Just one piece of advice: Don't be afraid of the fall. It's scary and dangerous and thrilling, and that's the best part. To the Futureand Beyond December 19, 2011 Ed Stelz Judy Chen, NY City Throughout the past 12 months, I have grown in so many ways as an actor and as an individual. From auditioning at Lincoln Center to working with great people in film and onstage, I feel truly grateful and humbled. However, even more valuable were the times I felt as though I were merely spinning my wheelsquestioning my decision to leave a solid career behind and wondering when I would actually get cast after attending hundreds of auditionsfor those were the moments that reinforced how much I truly loved to perform.Pursuing my passion has certainly made me more appreciative of every moment. Gone are the days of living in a rut and thinking that there was nothing more to life than toiling at a desk job, meeting deadlines, paying bills, waiting for the weekends, and going on a string of bad dates. Instead, I'm happily reading scripts, memorizing lines, and preparing for auditions. I am working on developing projects and productions I want to take part in and be proud of. I reprioritize my time on what is truly fulfilling to me. Having less of a social life doesn't seem like a sacrifice, especially since I get to devote the time I do spend with quality, genuine people who are my closest friends. The support of these friends and family may not make me invincible or feel any less defeated, but it has undoubtedly been the strongest force that impels me to continuously plow ahead whenever I begin to doubt myselfand those moments are still quite frequent.One of the biggest lessons I've learned as a result of being part of Take 5 this year stemmed from meeting people at auditions, in class, on the street, and even online who send emails to my website or Facebook page who found it necessary to share with me how my writing has resonated with them. And that lesson is this: Never underestimate the influence we have on our peers. When I learn from my cast members, I may not have told them explicitly or even known that something they did clicked in my mind until I brought the adjustment with me to enhance a subsequent performance, but we all wield that power to affect others nonetheless. Ironically, I have known since January what I would write for my December column, because regardless of what has changed in our lives and the achievements we have accomplished this year, our goal has remained the same since day one: to become better actors each day. When we progress in our craft, we improve any ensemble we are a part of. For my last sign-off, I want to share with everyone something I remind myself daily: I have no idea what the future holds, but I will do everything I can to get where I want to be.Thanks for coming along for the ride.Jenna Lamia, Los Angeles This month I've been thinking about listening. I remember one of my theater professors at Amherst saying that listening is nine-tenths of one's job as an actor. I think this is an alternate version of the oft-repeated "acting is reacting." And it is a wise and valuable bit of advice for an actor. But, as a writer, I've decided there is a higher form of listening, and that is "selective." Because I write for a TV show, I am constantly getting notesfrom the studio, the network, and the showrunners. It is my job to take in everyone's opinions, and to implement the suggested changes in a way that makes the show better. But it is also my job to have a clear enough vision of the intended final product that I don't let the barrage of opinions sway me off track, resulting in a hodgepodge of ideas that don't hold together in one cohesive story line. In trying to make everyone happy, if I am not careful, I will end up making everyone, including myself, supremely unhappy. Yet, if I have a distinct vision and a way to get there, chances are I will deliver something unique and interesting, even if it's not exactly what everyone had in mind. Because that's just it: There is no final creative product that is going to be exactly what everyone had in mind. I am not advocating ignoring anyone's opinion but your own (though I admit sometimes that's tempting), but I am saying that being clear on what your ideas are and sticking to them with vigor is a great quality for a creative person. If you are steering the ship and you don't know where you're trying to go, good luck to your passengers. Not everyone is going to like your output all of the time, but that's because art is unique and subjective. That's a good thing. As long as the final product is deliberate, I feel I have done my job, and that is true as a writer and an actor. Because this is the last column of the year, I want to use my remaining space here to wax nostalgic. It has been such a pleasure to read about all the other Take 5ers' adventures this year, and I'm grateful to have been included among their ranks. I will never forget buying my first Back Stage at a newsstand on 56th and Seventh Avenue when I first moved to Manhattan and eagerly flipping to the auditions listings. Then, a year or two later when my teacher at Weist-Barron Studios, Rita Litton, put me in an ad for her acting classes, I was so excited to be "in Back Stage," I saved the paper for years in a bureau drawer. Now I have a whole year's worth of Back Stages to save. Thank you so much for having me; it has been a real treat.Ed Stelz, NY City So here we are, nearly a year later. There have been 12 articles, two pilots, and half a feature written; several commercials and a TV episode aired; and the formation of a production company. Yet only a portion of my January 2011 goals is crossed off. How does this make me feel? Pretty solid! Let's take a look, though, at something a little more relevant: the things I failed to accomplish. I didn't make it into an Off-Broadway show or a feature film, and I didn't create any new casting director contacts. Now, we may partly blame this on the void that would normally be filled by a legit agent. But if we dig deeper, we see that my insufficiencies as an artist are truly at fault. Living in NY City, you learn to cope with its many annoyances and quickly appreciate its few conveniences. For instance, traveling to work means letting someone do the driving for you. And considering the amount of meetings and auditions I go to, this en-route time tallies up. But rather than flinging red, yellow, and black cartoon birds at wooden and stone structures, I use my transit time to delve into literature that, I hope, will aid in furthering my craft and career. Just recently, I blew through three books, one of which was Patsy Rodenburg's "The Right to Speak: Working With the Voice." (Patsy, if you are unfamiliar with her, is renowned for pioneering new vocal techniques.) I've constantly battled an internal voice demon. Between voice work at school and on my own, I was unable to get rid of it. It wasn't until I read this book that I understood the anatomical headlock that stifled my voice. On top of this, I finished "Film Directing Shot by Shot: Visualizing From Concept to Screen," by Steven D. Katz. Since the inception of my production company, I've wanted to learn directing for film, camera angles, shot styles, etc. Soon enough, I found myself applying these newly acquired skill sets to my writing and analytical processes for breaking down text. I realized, the answers to my problems are out there. If I keep searching, I'll eventually find them. Each and every one of us has a different journey with different hurdles to tackle. Now, I'm not one to get all cheesy and philosophical, but sometimes we forget the most apparent truths. There are actors out there who are blessed with a great on-camera look, a well-placed voice, and innate acting strengths. They sneak into the system fairly easily. Then there are others, like me, who don't and are faced with two options: improve and become the elite or quit and go home. Hollywood and Broadway do not have gray areas. You're either in it, or you're not. Okay, sentimental time: If I had more than 500 words, I still wouldn't be able to express how grateful I am to both Dany Margolies, our editor, and you, our readers, for riding side by side with me on this journey. It has truly been an amazing experience, and I hope my successes and my woes have helped you even in the slightest bit. Deborah Strang, Los Angeles Time is so relative. When I was 5, a year seemed to last forever. Now it lasts one-sixtieth of my life and is too brief, too brief. This is my final Take 5. I don't think I will miss worrying about deadlines, but I will miss this opportunity to reflect on my journey, to attempt to find the words to describe it, and to extract any meaning it might have. What an extraordinary, challenging, and mind-boggling year this has been. A year ago I was in Argentina, playing with penguins, dancing the tango, eating steak. Nine months ago I embarked on my first Ionesco play with my two fondest collaborators at A Noise Within, Geoff Elliott and Julia Rodriguez-Elliott, and in May it became our farewell to our 19 years in Glendale. In late September, we moved into our new permanent theater in Pasadena, and we had our first audience three weeks later. Since then, we previewed Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night," staged an elaborate gala opening night with a tented sit-down dinner for nearly 400 peopleincluding Pasadena's mayor and various dignitaries and long-, long-, long-term patrons and supportersand previewed and opened Eugene O'Neill's rarely staged masterpiece, "Desire Under the Elms," to great acclaim. We've had full houses, instituted new valet parking, increased our subscriber base by more than 25 percent, carpeted the theater, resealed the outside of the building, scrubbed the floors and sealed the concrete, and instituted and continue to learn a new database system, a new ticketing system, and a new computer and networking system. I'm not sure whether I should classify us as risk-taking innovators or insane fools. It is a major, major thing that we have accomplished. I recently reconnected with an old friend from graduate school who commented on the fact that I have managed to stay the course as an actor, and he attributed this to my perseverance. According to Webster this means "persistence, steadfastness, tenacity" and to persevere is "to continue in a given course in spite of difficulties, obstacleswith a determination not to give up." And yes, I suppose that is true, but sometimes I feel like a train just pulled into the station and I climbed on, or a door opened and I walked through. Perhaps what has led me here has actually been an openness to the task at hand, more of an ability to follow the course rather than stay the course. But however it has come about, I find myself in an extraordinary position at a historical moment in time with a company of artists whom I revere and cherish. I marvel at my present state and can only wonder where this path may lead. And now, life beckons. I have a callback for a new Aaron Sorkin episodic. Wish me luck!KC Wright, Los Angeles Talk about coming full circle. After a year of ups and downs, I will be starting 2012 with a new agent (I sign the contracts this afternoon), my SAG card, my first feature film credits, and a dozen amazing new projects under my belt. I remember wringing my hands in January, waiting for something to change. A few months later, I lost the representation that I had had since graduation and went from big network auditions to crickets. Something changed! Getting dropped by my agent was the biggest hurdle I've faced in my short career but also the best thing that could have happened. As one of the lucky few who were offered representation right out of college, I was never forced to make my own way. I'm not sure I was even ready for the career that I was striving for. But since parting with the agency, I've taken my place with thousands of other young actors in L.A. I discovered a world of talented actors with no impressive degree or family name to stand behind, who have learned to create their own opportunities out of a dollar and a dream. This has taught me to stop waiting for a change; the only thing I can change is me.It hasn't been easy starting from relative scratch, but it has been incredibly satisfying. Each new victory is doubly sweet, because it's proof of how much I've learned. And the more I learn, the more I understand that the learning will never end. A career where you're not an expert at 24? Imagine that! The most profound moments of the past year were rooted in the work. Being on set, even for unpaid or student films, is the greatest learning experience out there. Watching the other actors work, observing the crew, working with sound and camera equipmentall offer lessons not found in a textbook. The various projects I've worked on have taught me so much and given me a real hunger to work in film and television. I will always love the stage, but I'm thrilled to have found a subtly different craft that excites me just as much. I've also changed my attitude toward my business. I've always hated the idea of marketing, but I've come to realize that there is nothing shameful in building up my career. It doesn't have to be pushy and phony, either; it's about cultivating relationships, being a real person, and knowing that I can be of service to the people I meet. If talent, training, and skill are the seeds of a career, relationships are the watering cans.It has been an amazing 12 months writing for Back Stage, and I'm sad to see it come to an end; this job is a regular roller coaster, and no one likes to ride a roller coaster alone. Just one piece of advice: Don't be afraid of the fall. It's scary and dangerous and thrilling, and that's the best part.