Credibility: A Recipe for the Beginning Actor

By Jim Ryan PhD

Acting is a subjective, idiosyncratic art. One actor’s sensibilities and specific performance methodology or process may, and typically does, differ considerably from that of another actor. However, there are inherent objectives and considerations that are common to anyone who steps on stage. In Credibility: A Recipe for the Beginning Actor these considerations, as well as strategies and specific tactics designed to achieve an honest, life-like, credible performance are explored using the metaphor of a chef’s carefully-planned, meticulously and incrementally-executed meal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665571968

Jim Ryan PhD

Dr. Jim Ryan received his Bachelor of Arts degree in Theatre from California State University at Long Beach in 1968. Following completion of his Master of Fine Arts degree requirements at Detroit’s Wayne State University in 1972, he was one of twelve students from the United States selected that year to be admitted to the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art (LAMDA) for advanced training in classical acting. It was there, under the direction of acclaimed Royal Shakespeare Company actress, Elizabeth Spriggs, that he conceived and performed his first one-person show, What A Piece of Work Is A Man. Following performances in London and Dublin, he returned to the U.S., created two additional solo pieces (Sculptures in Sand and Storms and Dreams: An American Mosaic) and began to tour. During the ensuing years, the three productions were presented in excess of 1400 times. In addition to stage, he appeared in numerous television shows including The Wild, Wild West, General Hospital, Lou Grant, The Eddie Capra Mysteries, Sandburg’s Lincoln, The Young and the Restless, Kojac, and Shannon. In 1992, he received a Ph.D. from Michigan State University, with the focus of his dissertation being solo performance methodology. During his twenty-three-year tenure as a Professor of Theatre and director at Emporia State University, Emporia, KS, he was the recipient of numerous awards, including the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences Excellence in Teaching Award, the Xi Phi Outstanding Faculty Award, and the Roe R. Cross Distinguished Professor Award (the highest honor given by Emporia State). The Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival has, on three occasions, honored him for his directing and, in 2002, named him one of three teachers of acting in the United States to be awarded a fellowship for advanced study of acting pedagogy at the Actors’ Center in New York City.

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© 2022 Jim Ryan, PhD. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  09/26/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7197-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7198-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7196-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022917844

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Dedicated to

my grandmother,

the source,

my mother, the faith,

and Anna, Conner, and Brennan, the inspiration.

In remembrance of

Dr. Jon Baisch, the guide.

CONTENTS

Preface

Introduction

Chapter 1 Selecting the Dish

Chapter 2 Two Cups Technical Proficiency and Preparation

Chapter 3 Two Cups Self

Chapter 4 Two Cups Textual Analysis

Chapter 5 One Bite at a Time

Bibliography

PREFACE

I think of an actor’s performance, metaphorically, as a meticulously prepared meal or culinary offering served to a hungry audience. It is an appetizing feast of spoken words and physical actions that is subtly seasoned, well-balanced, and fulfilling to both chef (actor) and consumer (audience). Credibility (truthfulness in performance) must be considered the foundational ingredient, upon which the entire entree (his or her characterization) rests. After studying the works of noted acting theorists, observing and having in-depth discussions with accomplished actors, innovative directors, and respected teachers (the great chefs, if you will), and spending years in personal trial and error, I have formulated and now seek to relate a rather basic, yet detailed, recipe for the preparation of this entree.

Credibility

Each Serving Provides

Calories: 0

Total Fat: 0 grams

Cholesterol: 0 milligrams

Artistic Fulfillment: 100 percent daily recommended allowance

Ingredients

3 cups self (main ingredient)

2 cups work ethic and desire (You must be hungry.)

2 cups technical proficiency and preparation (well-trained voice and body)

1 cup sensitivity (being other focused)

1 cup concentration (Life, is diffused light. Life on stage, is a laser-beam)

1 cup vulnerability (being open and unguarded)

1 cup imagination (Let’s pretend!)

2 cups textual investigation and analysis (immersion into the dramatic world)

2 cups heightened sensory perception and moment-to-moment, nonverbal processing (really looking, listening, and evaluating)

2 cups spontaneity and responsiveness (organic reaction and response despite memorization and rehearsal)

Preparation

1. To meticulous in-depth textual investigation, combine well-developed vocal and physical skills, heightened concentration, responsiveness, vulnerability, and imagination.

2. Fold in self.

3. Marinate and refine for several weeks in a rehearsal hall while adding moment-to-moment interaction with fellow chefs and subtextual seasoning to taste.

4. When blending is complete and the desired texture and consistency is achieved, remove from rehearsal hall and serve hot to an audience with added garnishes of costumes and makeup.

This book is for the beginning actor and his or her early mentors as they search for foundational keys to a truthful performance.

INTRODUCTION

I often think back to the times when, as young boys in southern California, my brother and I would visit our grandmother at her San Gabriel home. Our two-week vacation with her each summer was always an eagerly awaited, fun-filled adventure, highlighted by frequent trips to the public pool and a bus ride to downtown Los Angeles for dinner and a movie. Simply put, the love and respect that we had for this remarkable woman of strength and kindness was limitless.

And the food—oh, the home-cooked food that we had. I vividly remember sitting at her kitchen table and watching in amazement as she prepared meals. Our admiration increased by the second as she worked her culinary magic. My grandmother, as all grandmothers seem to be, was a marvelous cook. Her signature dish (and our favorite) was gnocchi: a small, Italian potato dumpling. These tiny gastronomic wonders tasted delicious and invariably increased in size as they rested in our stomachs.

Looking back, they seemed, through young, impressionable eyes, quite difficult and time-consuming to prepare. We were keenly aware of the skill that was required, in part because Grandma would often let us attempt to help. Always unsuccessful in this endeavor (more hindrance than assistance), we would emerge from the experience with our faces covered in flour and our muscles aching. For the most part, we simply watched in wide-eyed wonder as she created a meal that would make anyone’s mouth water. It certainly made ours water.

Without hesitation, calculation, or the use of a measuring cup; relying solely on some internal, unerring instinct or sense, she would combine in a bowl the simplest ingredients: quartered boiled potatoes, a few handfuls of flour, some eggs, a pinch or two of sugar, some salt and a little water. These would then be combined, not with the aid of a modern appliance but with strong hands and muscle memory. She was simply doing what she had done thousands of times before. In short order and to our delight, a large amorphous mound of dough would be removed from the mixing bowl. She would then knead the dough, pressing it with her palms and fists, all the while leaning into her work with her entire body. When the mixture had reached the right consistency, she would cover it with the same bowl from which it had emerged and let it set (no timer needed, only her unerring internal clock).

Then the fun would really begin. What followed would be a flurry of motion—a blur of hands flying over the dough in precise movements, the way a concert pianist’s fingers fly across the keyboard. First, she would cut the large ball into smaller pieces and swiftly roll these pieces into long, thin, snakelike strands. She would then cut the strands into bite-size pillows. Finally and most astonishingly, in rapid-fire, two-fingered jabs, displaying the same dexterity that had served her as a skilled seamstress and buttonholer for years, she would shape each pillow into an exquisitely perfect little shell ready to dance in boiling water, cradle delectable red sauce or melted butter and, ultimately, delight our taste buds.

While I’m sure it wasn’t easy, she made it seemingly so. I’m convinced that over the years, she had found a way to eliminate unnecessary actions, unneeded efforts, and unwanted complications. She simply got to the heart, the essence of the task. She found the things that were essential to creating a meal that was so special to all of us who loved it, and loved her. At one point as this process was effortlessly unfolding, I remember her looking at our mesmerized faces and with a gentle smile, quietly saying, Sometimes the best-tasting meals are made with simple ingredients and simple steps. I have not forgetten these words.

Years later while a senior in high school, I took an elective theater course and subsequently appeared in my first play: a thrill-ride melodrama of minor literary merit. In it, I played a psychiatrist who was helping the police search for a former client, who happened to be the principal suspect in a series of murders. Having never acted before, I had no idea how to approach the role. As the weeks of rehearsals passed, despite the encouragement and praise of my director and fellow actors, I became frightened, frustrated, and confused. Although the production turned out to be a success, those unsettling feelings persisted.

I could not understand why the audiences seemed to like what I had done. Even worse, I had no idea what I had done. I felt that I had somehow tricked everyone. I was an emperor keenly aware that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. I had achieved success once, but it most assuredly could never happen again. I vowed to search for answers; to find or formulate a personal methodology for this craft to which I was suddenly drawn.

The search continues. I have spent the majority of my life as a professional performer and teacher, trying to better understand and simplify the process of acting. Perhaps therein lies the rub. Some might argue that answers are more likely found when not overanalyzing something children seem to do instinctively. I tend to agree. However, I do not subscribe to the notion that you should just hitch up your trousers, go out, and do it. Experience may indeed provide the ultimate education, but when principles and techniques inherent to any art form are clearly understood and diligently and systematically employed, it leads to greater ease and effectiveness in expression. The aim of this book is to provide a few elemental insights for actors in the formative years of their craft and, in so doing, help them avoid some of the frustration and uncertainty that I encountered in my early exploration.

CHAPTER 1

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SELECTING THE DISH

From the moment she began to prepare gnocchi, my grandmother knew the exact result she wished to achieve. The goal was clear; the dish firmly fixed in her mind. All subsequent actions were undertaken with the express purpose of achieving that end.

Similarly, for an actor to be fully effective in performance, it is imperative that the goal remain distinct and close at hand. The first step when approaching our craft is to have a precise understanding of the actor’s fundamental and paramount objective when he or she takes the stage. When I conduct workshops for young actors, I always begin by asking them these questions: What are you trying to achieve in your performance? When you step onstage what, above all, do you want? Of course, the answers are many and varied: to entertain, to captivate the audience, to tell a story, and most frequently, to be believable or to become the character. These latter two responses always pique my interest.

With time and experience, I came to the realization that believability in performance is impossible. Let me explain. When one sits in a darkened theater, does he or she truly believe that they are in the presence of, for example, King Oedipus, Lady Macbeth, Hamlet, Alexander Hamilton, or Blanche Dubois? Do they, for an instant, believe that they are actually witnessing the death of Shakespeare’s tormented Danish prince or the emotional unhinging and brutal violation of Tennessee Williams’s aging and fragile southern belle? No, they don’t. One of the great paradoxes of the theater is that while audience members become involved in the world of the play and empathetic with the characters therein, they never fully forget that they are in a theater. The ticket stubs in their pockets remind them of the high price they paid for the privilege of sharing an armrest with the stranger in the next seat. They know that what they are witnessing is a fictive world, populated by fictive characters created in the mind and imagination of the playwright—even if these characters are based on living or historical figures.

As the curtain descends and Hamlet, Laertes, Claudius, and Gertrude lie dead, do audience members expect to hear sirens outside the theater or see bodies being carried off? Of course they don’t. They eagerly await the curtain call and an opportunity to show their admiration and appreciation for the skilled actors who portrayed these characters.

Certain theater philosophies, such as those held byBertolt Brecht and Helene Weigel, founders of the Berliner Ensemble, seek to free the actor from emotional engagement and, in so doing, keep audience members at arm’s length: to alienate them through nonorganic or stylized physical mannerisms and an eccentric vocal delivery. This approach, theoretically, enables the viewer to more readily and objectively grasp the message or underlying philosophical bent within the text. In the main, however, theater artists hope that the spectator will become absorbed in, and connected to this pretend world by accepting the unfolding action as truthful or credible, while not necessarily believing it to be real.

At one time or another, those who attend the theater regularly, have experienced that jarring moment, in an otherwise absorbing production, when an actor who is unskilled, inexperienced, ill-prepared or miscast, jolts them out of the world of the play. The essential task, and first obligation of each actor is never to allow such a moment to happen. Rather, he or she must keep the audience engaged in the action and immersed in the unfolding story. The goal, the main course an actor serves an audience in a theatrical banquet, is credibility: to be a credible inhabitant of the imaginary world of a production. How is this best achieved? What are the principal steps in the preparation of this recipe? Let’s begin by examining the main ingredients.

CHAPTER 2

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TWO CUPS TECHNICAL PROFICIENCY

AND PREPARATION

Gnocchi is a relatively uncomplicated dish resulting from the skillful blending of simple ingredients. However, before my grandmother began to form these little potato-and-flour dumplings, she had to meticulously prepare the dough. If she had not paid careful consideration to the ingredients, no matter how elementary or few; had not arduously kneaded the dough to just the right consistency, or rushed or slighted the preparatory work in the least, she knew the resulting meal would be inferior.

Likewise, if you hope to achieve credibility in performance, you must be extraordinarily diligent in your preparatory work. Remember, while the pianist sits at an instrument tuned to produce notes of beauty, range, power, and subtlety, and the visual artist stands before a canvas with brush in hand and a palette of carefully-mixed and varied hues, an actor has only one’s self. You are the palette and the lone instrument. Your voice and body are the only sources; your vocal and physical expression the only spices through which a variety of theatrical flavors can be achieved. You must have the needed training to stock your personal shelf with the seasonings required for all recipes. Command of technical skills is the leavening agent that causes an actor’s performance to rise. If you are not committed to maintaining and improving these skills, you will be living in a house of cards; one which the demands of a role beyond your capabilities will surely send tumbling down. Vocal and physical preparation and proficiency (a well-trained voice and a conditioned, espressive body) are essential to performance credibility. In addition, you must season your ongoing training and preparatory work with healthy amounts of the following:

• sensitivity and responsiveness (being other-directed and other-focused)

• sensory awareness (really seeing, hearing, feeling and experiencing)

• focus and concentration (life is a flood-light, life on stage is a laser beam)

• openness and vulnerability (risk and reveal)

• imagination (let’s pretend)

Your preparation is a process: one of personal and artistic evolution and maturation. To fully employ these necessary ingredients during performance, you must first make them essential parts of your daily life: of the person you are. They do not magically appear when you first attempt to cook onstage. You must stock your personal pantry for years in advance, and continue to do so throughout your career.

Relaxation

Let’s look closer at an actor’s preparatory work: specifically regarding the matter of relaxation. For the ingredients of our recipe to be blended smoothly and effectively into a delectable finished product, the chef must be at ease during its preparation. An actor who is engaged in the fictive world of the text, and mentally in action from moment-to-moment, must not be distracted by nerves. It is completely natural to experience a certain degree of preshow jitters. In fact, this normal anticipatory reaction can give an actor a needed edge, or perhaps stimulate heightened energy. Abnormal anxiety or extreme tension during performance, however, is an enemy—perhaps the enemy—of natural, relaxed expression, as well as an inhibitor of easy, unaffected, and credible behavior.

When preparing gnocchi, my grandmother would accomplish a difficult and arduous undertaking in an effortless and relaxed manner. She seemed, at all times, to display an inner calm; a contained and controlled countenance that belied the physical effort and sustained concentration involved in the task. She made it look easy.

Tension, in any endeavor, inhibits performance. This is clearly true in the process of acting. If you are tight, vocally or physically, you cannot convincingly portray an individual who is simply and spontaneously living in his or her world. The principal aim of an actor’s preparatory work is to master and control the natural rise of tension that accompanies the unnatural state of performing before large numbers of spectators.

There are numerous ways to address nerves and feel more relaxed prior to, and during, performance. The first, is through a systematic, thorough, pre-performance physical and vocal warm-up; one designed to free the voice and body from tension and, consequently, maximize one’s potential for relaxed expression. I have found the following strategies, and suggested exercises, effective in addressing physical tension and freeing the voice.

Tension Clusters and Target Areas

Each of us is unique. And, as one would expect, the manner in which, and the degree to which actors experience tension or heightened degrees of anticipation prior to going onstage, greatly varies. The specific source, frequency, duration, and intensity of this most uncomfortable, and potentially paralyzing of feelings, similarly differs from one actor to another. So too does his or her method of dealing with it.

We often hear that by wearing a hat and keeping one’s head protected from the elements during the winter months, the entire body is kept warmer. Similarly, it is my experience that while tension ultimately seems to be pervasive, it typically originates in a specific area, or areas, of the body and then, like ripples in a pond, spreads. I refer to these pockets of tightness, or epicenters of uneasiness, as tension clusters. Their location and intensity frequently vary from person to person. In the most fortunate of performers they may, in fact, be nonexistent. To older, more seasoned actors, those long-dedicated to their craft and acutely aware of theater’s enduring social and cultural significance, it often seems a cruel irony that young performers, unfazed by, or unaware of grand traditions or legacies; who act simply because it’s great fun and a good way to meet others with similar interests (often of the opposite sex), are less prone to the agonies of tension or stage fright. No matter the motivation or breadth of experience, however, by warming the body prior to taking the stage, and loosening those areas in which tension typically resides, the most acclaimed or least experienced actors typically find that they remain more relaxed during performance.

A Warm-Up (The Body)

The mastery and practice of a systematic warm-up is an essential ingredient of the disciplined actor’s preparatory work. Because physical tension hinders natural expression and results in subsequent vocal tightness or strain, it is advisable to first warm up the body and then proceed to the voice. If you already have a favorite and effective method to physically loosen and relax your body, by all means, continue to follow your routine. It may be unique or a bit out of the box. Dr. Sita Thomas, for example, noted multi-disciplinary director and presenter in the UK has incorporated boxing moves, short sprints, and jumping into her warm-ups. If it is successful, and you enjoy it, keep doing it. If, however, you have not yet found a satisfying and effective physical warm-up, here are some thoughts.

The first step is to locate your specific tension points: those parts of the body where you typically experience tightness when performing. No matter how far these sites are from your vocal chords, they still affect sound. Such areas include the face (in particular the jaw and lips), neck, shoulders, hands, abdomen, knees, and spine (nerve central). When doing a warm-up, begin with larger sections of the body and then proceed to smaller, subtler points of focus. A progression might include some of the following steps:

1. Shake, Rattle, … (Overall Loosening)

Begin with overall loosening. Get your heart pumping faster and your blood really flowing. And be sure to have fun while doing so! Be childlike and play. Walk around the room briskly, while at the same time shaking your arms and hands. Increase the pace until you are walking as fast as you can. Abruptly change directions and continue to walk as swiftly as possible. Suddenly, freeze! Hold the frozen position for several seconds while feeling yourself breathing heavier. Then spring forward again. After several seconds, instantly change directions once more. Moments later, freeze again. Feel your heart beating. Repeat this sequence numerous times.

Then, break into a slow, rag-doll run. Imagine that your body has no bones and allow it to just flop around, with shoulders bouncing, arms and hands flailing, face loose, and mouth slightly opened. Think of the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz. Imagine yourself shaking away any physical tightness. Add an ah sound to your movements (as when the doctor asks you to say ‘ahhhh’). Think of this sound being bounced out of your body, not consciously produced or placed. After thirty seconds of movement with sound, come to a gradual stop. Your heart should be beating strongly, and you should feel warm all over.

2. … and Roll (The Spine)

If the foundation of a home is not strong and stable, the