Diary of a Southern Immigrant

Reflections and musings from a southern girl who calls the Northeast home...

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

1/4/06

Is an actor an actor when he's not working? Question of the hour, week, lifetime of a performing artist. How do you define yourself when the gig is up? Does a body of work over the years that only exists in the given moment of the performances mean anything when you are currently collecting unemployment and suddenly the immediate question with everyone in your life is, "So what are you doing now?" Collecting unemployment, auditioning for the next prospect, writing, getting back to all those projects I put off while I was working, going to yoga, trying to be a nice unemployed person with some sense of identity and purpose, trying to stay afloat amidst rejection, trying to gear myself up just to go to that next audition where I will probably be rejected, oops, trying to think positively about that next audition.

A friend of mine is distraught by the cycle that she sees her husband go through each time he finishes another job. "We are all ok for about two days, then the sadness descends on the house. I come home and he's watching Music Man for the third time curled up on the floor. The happiest I see him is when there is some kind of consistency. I don't care if it's some dumb temp job for a corporation. He NEEDS structure. The in-between times are tough."

So is life for the performer about getting that next break? Or any break? Or the break between the breaks? We are supposed to be the people who are the most in touch with the present moment as a function of what we do, and yet you can feel the anxiety rush through the cast the last few weeks once the closing notice is posted. The conversation backstage is always about what comes next. I think it is a basic human need to have structure. Not necessarily knowing what will happen next, but at least to have an idea of the context of your life in which things happen.

Now of course we PUT ourselves intentionally into these situations. We are not victims here, by any means. (Why they are reviving A Chorus Line on Broadway this year, I have no idea.) The state of the stage in NYC is a much different place nowadays than it was 30 years ago. But it IS important to examine one's life and choices when a journey comes to a close. And after all those rehearsal hours, performance stamina, passion, energy, focus, fights, and friendships, it really is a journey. But do I look back fondly and say, "Oh I'm so lucky to spend my life this way?" No, not really. At least not this week. Sometimes. Just like any other profession I guess. And can you call it a profession for the 99% of the union that is UNemployed at any given time?

So back to the question of living in between those cracks. Of seeking value and refuge in ourselves and those people that surround us and listen to our stories and lift us up. It is our responsibility to remain positive, plugged in, financially responsible (depending on one's personal situation) and actively deeming yourself worthy. Yeah right. Easier said than done of course. So HOW DO YOU answer that inevitable dinner party question of, "So what are you doing now?" when technically and in the conventional sense of work you are doing nothing? How do you answer with pride or without looking down or fidgeting? What do you say that you do? Are you an actor? Or are you just in between?

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