Balance

Tom: In our year of lunches and conversations, the one word we kept coming back to over and over … was balance.  An actor needs balance.  So why is that, do you think, and in what ways does an actor need balance?

Austin:  Well, for me the first thing that comes to mind is actor self and actor character.  But more importantly – and this evolves with maturity – is a balance between art, career and life!

Tom:  And balance between playing to the partner and being aware of the audience.  Balance between taking the work seriously … but not taking yourself too seriously.  But I want to go back to your first comment: actor self and actor character.  What do you mean by that?

Austin:  You know, I was never taught those terms when I was in school.  In fact, most training – at least modern American thought – believes in little-to-no separation between the actor and their work.  And I do believe that the closer you are to the character then the more fulfilled your performance.  But I discovered those terms from re-reading Stanislavsky and from the writings of one of his students, Evgeny Vakhtangov.  It introduces the dualism that exists between the actor and their creation.

Tom:  So where do you stand with that?  Do you believe there should be little-to-no separation between the actor and their work?
 
Austin:  Now I do believe in this dualism because I truly believe that an actor is – and should always be – aware that they are on stage and they ARE performing.  After all, what we do IS for the audience.  Therefore, the only real emotions that an actor can experience while working is pleasure that they fulfilled a moment, or frustration/disappointment that they did not.  Everything else is a fabrication – no matter how truthful or realistic it may feel on the inside – but a fabrication of the actor’s imagination.  And I like to think of it as the actor is driving the character, if that makes sense.  I know this is not a very American tradition in thinking, but I believe that it is a more healthy “balanced” way of approaching art.  Would you agree?

Tom:  I think so, and I definitely think we should revisit the words “truthful” and “realistic” at a later time…

Austin:  Without a doubt!

Tom:  But I guess where I get hung up is that there are many actors, and many successful actors, working in many different styles.  Some seem to wholly invest into “being the character,” which strikes me as perhaps borderline unhealthy, but then again, it seems to work for some actors.
 
Austin:  Daniel Day-Lewis in “Lincoln.”

Tom:  Exactly.  And that was an amazing performance.  And on the other side of the coin, there are some actors who are wildly aware of the audience, and sometimes that works as well, but often – frankly – I want them to forget about us a little.  It’s the balance that I like.  But even saying that, I know there are some actors who land on one part of the spectrum…

Austin:  …and others who land on another.
 
Tom:  Right.  So let me ask you this, and let me put it in the most simplistic terms: when you say it’s a fabrication of the actor’s imagination, are you saying that’s a good thing or a bad thing?
 
Austin:  I believe that the fabrication of the actor’s imagination is a “good” thing.  I hate to use a term like “trick,” in fact coax or lure is probably more positive terminology, but I believe that the imagination triggers an actor’s natural emotional instincts.  I believe that’s the thing we’re really after, because we KNOW what we’re playing with is fictional – a creation – but we allow our resources to be used for that creation.

Tom:  It’s that balance of knowing and tricking.

Austin:  Yes, and I think the place where it can go south is when personal and private experiences are exploited in unhealthy, schizophrenic ways.
 
Tom:  I completely agree.  And let me just point out that we often use the phrase “going south” for negative connotations.  Aren’t you from the south?

Austin:  You know, one of my favorite sayings – and yes, I am a southern boy so it might seem odd – is “that went South faster than Sherman!”

Tom:  I love it.

Austin:  But one last thing about those actors who DO submerge themselves in the character.  I think it takes a strong technique to walk that tightrope.  We are all after the same thing – truth – but not everyone is strong enough mentally to handle that way of working.  So I think it’s dangerous to teach young actors – who haven’t even matured emotionally themselves – to start dabbling with the dark arts, so to speak.
 
Tom:  I confess, early on as a teacher I think I was far more concerned with emotion than I am now, if only because the students were craving it and I thought I’d give it to them.  It became a yearly thing: on the first day of class, students would ask, “Are you going to teach us how to cry?”  And so we concerned ourselves with that.  But I came to realize that it is indeed a tightrope (there’s that balance again) and all that can come at a later time … if at all.  And actually, I prefer the notion of “personalization” rather than “emotion.”

Austin:  Have you ever seen actors who almost enjoy rolling around in their own emotional junk because they think that’s what fine acting is?

Tom:  Oh, yes, and I’m guessing you have as well.  I once did a play with a guy who was really into “the emotion,” and he wanted all the cast to get down and dirty and for everyone to “feel it.”  I got so frustrated that once, during rehearsal, I blew up at him.  I mean, I just lost it.  And he LOVED it.  It’s exactly what he wanted: my personal meltdown.  It didn’t help me as an actor, and it certainly didn’t help my performance, but what it showed me was that people have vastly different ways of working.

Austin:  You bring up an interesting point that I want to touch on, about the other actor LOVING your actor self reaction to his work.  What bothers me most about his technique – or lack of one – is that I feel most of those choices are driven from the actor, NOT the character, and they are in no way in service of the story but to the actor’s ego.  I always say, another Stanislavsky-ism, “We go TO the character, we don’t bring the character to us.”  And yet again we bring all of our OWN personal and emotional experiences with us TO the character.
 
Tom:  Which brings us to the emotional event.  Why does emotion play so big a part in all of this?

Austin:  I don’t know if you feel this way, but still, after so many years acting, my first choices are about giving it everything, almost OVER-acting, because somewhere I feel like that is what it’s all about.  Or that by really going for it, then that’s more truthful because it has more value, or the intensity will trigger emotion.  It’s clearly not the case, but I wonder if this sensation is some residual or instinctual belief that THAT is what acting is really about: showing the world that you can do it.

Tom:  I know what you’re saying.  Some part of us remembers the performances that knocked us out when we were kids - why we became actors in the first place - and so we strive to do the same thing.  Not with technique, but with EMOTION.  It’s a trap.
 
Austin:  Exactly, as if we have to deliver a memorable product that is tangible enough for the world to say, “you are talented, son!”  But with balance, we can even things out.
 
Tom:  Of course.  It always comes back to balance.  I think back to the Greeks and their notion of the world: “Everything in moderation.”  (Of course, Benjamin Franklin took it one step further:  “Everything in moderation, including moderation.”)  Every aspect we talk about with acting - actor self vs. character self, emotion vs. technique…

Austin:  …business vs. craft…

Tom:  …work vs. play, it all requires balance and moderation.  And that’s harder than hell because, frankly, some things – like playing emotion on stage – just feel so darn good.  But the actor has to find that balance.  Don’t you think?

Austin:  Without a doubt!  I think that it’s even harder since most creative types have really addictive personalities!  But let me ask you this: do you think emotion trumps the connection we have with our fellow actors?

Tom:  I think what trumps emotion is the actor trying to get something from (or do something to) their scene partner.  If that WANT is active and believable, then as an audience member I’m engaged, I’m interested.  Period.  So, in that case, connection (true connection, not SHOWED connection) trumps emotion.
 
Austin:  And do you think it’s more important for the actor to have the experience or the audience?  More specifically, can the audience have an emotional experience without the actor having one?

Tom:  I don’t think the actor is responsible for the emotion of the audience; the play and the circumstances and the character’s struggles will help achieve that … assuming the script is good and the actor is honestly trying to achieve something from someone else on stage.  So yes, the audience can definitely achieve an emotional experience without the actor achieving one.  Having said that, I think it’s important for the actor to be present.  They don’t need to cry, for example, but they need to be present, so I as an audience member believe their struggles, their wanting to get something from other characters in the play.

Austin:  Yes, for me it is ALL about that need – the active pursuit of an objective or task.  I think that if we want to talk about real life – and I do like to compare our creative work to the workings of reality – we are always after something, even if we aren’t aware of what that is or we can’t articulate it.  The difference is that in real life we don’t have a known end, so to speak.  Theatre takes place in that imaginary world where the actor’s choices have to be active enough to be compelling to watch, and that comes from that specific focus from going after something.  That’s when I am moved by a performance.

Tom:  Agreed.  And there’s that balance again: knowing the “known end” (I love that!) and yet allowing yourself to be tricked into not knowing … so you’ll fight like hell to get it.

Austin:  I think we’re always going to come back to balance.