An Actor’s Story (Meredith O’Brien)
When I was in my first year of acting conservatory, my mother died of a heart attack. She was young, she was not sick, she was just here one second and gone the next. I went to see my technique teacher, Terry Hayden, a true sage and on whom my sun rose and set. I told her I couldn’t eat, let alone focus on class and rehearsals. She lifted her head, turned toward me, and said, “Walk. And keep on walking.”
Being kind isn’t hard, it’s human.
Exercise has always been therapeutic for me and has informed my life in countless ways. I am truly thankful for it, and I have been repeatedly surprised and delighted by how beautifully it aligns with my work as an actor. Here are a few examples:
In both acting and exercise, things go better when you breathe.
Risk equals growth. (I don’t mean recklessness. No one would jump out of an airplane without knowing how to deploy a parachute). I find it exciting to “jump off the high dive” by signing onto projects that I have no clue how to execute. It’s scary, it’s unnerving, but it is always the stimulus for discovery.
Functional fitness (e.g. flipping tires, doing deep squats, jumping rope) has allowed me great physical freedom onstage. In the production we just completed of Twelfth Night I would not have been able to move in the ways I did as Feste had I not been in consistent practice as an athlete.
Community is strength. I hold deep respect and affection for my fellow athletes at the gym, just as I do for my fellow cast-mates in each show. I am better because of them, and we are all better because of one another.
Unexpected things happen. A prop falls and breaks. I drop a weight on my foot. I must acknowledge it and process it, then move forward.
Some days are better than others. At times onstage I can feel disconnected or scattered just as at times on the track my legs can feel like cement. Tomorrow is a chance to try again. It is all rehearsal.
It is essential to take inventory of what’s happening in my body. We are human beings. How our bodies feel is dependent on many issues: sleep, nutrition, stress, etc. Our constitutions are constantly changing and adjusting, and so are the bodies of our characters.
Take it one step at a time. LeBron James is not thinking about dunking the ball when he is poised for the tip off. I can’t focus on that monologue in Act II when I am poised for my entrance at the top of Act I.
Everyone does it differently. It is impossible to be fully present onstage or in sports if you are concerned that the actor/athlete across the room is ‘better’ or more talented than you are. I have found it imperative to focus on my body, my work, this moment. The actor/athlete across the room cannot do my work my way − only I can.
Communication is key. I have been in many workouts where there is a lot of equipment moving around. Without communication, injury is inevitable. In theater, if the stage manager doesn’t know that you heard her call places, you will either miss your entrance or you will be embarrassed by your delay.
Ask for help/guidance. Leave your ego on Saturn.
Vulnerability is golden. We always love people more when they allow us to love them.
Celebrate small victories as well as large ones. Bettering your mile run time by eight seconds is a considerable achievement. Finding one true moment in a full-length performance is a WIN.
Practice! Don’t let your big audition be the first time you’ve acted in months. Don’t let muscles get weak and rusty and then expect to run a marathon. Actors and athletes both need solid practice in nurturing and stimulating environments.
Finally, in the words of my brilliant acting teacher, Ben Mathes at Crash Acting in Los Angeles: “To be a great actor (or athlete), be a great person.” Show up on time (early). Know your lines. Clean up your dressing room. Wipe down your barbell. Compliment your teammates. Say “thank you” to the stage managers and to your coaches. Walk someone to his car.
Being kind isn’t hard, it’s human.