Maybe should have done this sooner, but it has been a pretty crazed week and I sort of wanted to take a bit of a breath after the run up to and the performances of Like a Sack of Potatoes.
It was a pleasure to do. A ton of work, but that's what it takes if you expect to be operating on any kind of professional level. All three performances were amazing from my perspective. As often happens they had their distinctly different aspects, including audience response. The first night there was more laughter the second more listening . . . the third was the smallest of the bunch (Sunday evening after all), so it was hard to track the tenor but they all really really liked the experience.
The challenge from an actors point of view, is to avoid the trap of trying to please an audience based upon what they are or aren't giving you. Just because they are quiet doesn't mean they aren't engaged, and pushing the performance to compensate is deadly. You dance with them that brung you; you trust the work that you've done and carry on . . . and spin your web.
So. Onward.
Spent the week working on Happy Days with Bette and my new play . . . with a title now: Writers Block. We're presenting a reading of it in May so I have work to do . . . but it's a pleasure to be thinking like a writer again, not just an actor.
I had to take Tuesday evening off as far as shlepping in for the Fringe Playwrights Unit. Three trips into the city is enough for the week and I needed to kick back a bit.
As to Writers Block: total reconstruction mode. The first draft got it down on paper/screen; figured out the story and how it ended . . . but as often is the case, since I tend to write in bursts, there were things that were redundant or that completely contradicted something earlier in the play . . . what I start off with evolves in the process and by the time I get to the end of draft one I look back at the beginning and have to figure out how to make it work to get to what I came up with for an ending.
So that's where I am now . . . going through it line by line, deleting, rewriting. And when I get to the end I'll have another look and see how it holds up . . . take some pages into the workshop and hear it read. By late May I will be ready.
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Saturday, March 19, 2016
An interview
Review Fix Midtown International Theatre Festival Coverage: Ric Siler Talks ‘Like a Sack of Potatoes’
Posted by Patrick Hickey Jr. on 3/12/16 • Categorized as Theatre
Review Fix chats with playwright Ric Siler, who discusses his production, “Like a Sack of Potatoes” at this year’s Midtown International Theatre Festival.
About “Like a Sack of Potatoes”:
LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES by Ric Siler, directed by Bette Siler; starring Ric Siler. The ‘shotgun and rock salt talk’ usually was enough to keep boyfriends in line, but when one of his daughters marries an abusive husband, a farmer finds more drastic measures may be called for. (Hillbilly Gothic) *AEA Performance Schedule: Tues 3/15, 7:15pm; Sat 3/19, 7:45pm; Sun 3/20, 5:45pm
Review Fix: What was the inspiration for this project?
Ric Siler: Like a Sack of Potatoes began with an image, a cloud of dust raised by something falling in a dusty barn. After that it was figuring out the story, which was inspired in part by my grandfather who was a farmer in Kentucky and grew tobacco, tomatoes and much more. He would sit under the walnut trees in front of his house and sell his tomatoes.
Review Fix: What’s your creative process like?
Siler: I discover the piece as I’m writing it. I didn’t know where Like a Sack of Potatoes was going when I started it, but as the story grew it took on a life of its own. It came pretty quickly and didn’t require much in the way of rewriting.
Review Fix: What makes this different or special?
Siler: Being from Appalachia informs my writing in not only my ‘voice’ but also the stories I tell. I like to think there is an authenticity which gives people a window into people they don’t normally get to meet, except as stereotypes. I refer to some of my pieces as ‘hillbilly gothic’ with a sense of pride.
Review Fix: What did you learn about yourself through this process?
Siler: It’s funny how much autobiography leeches into these pieces. As I said my grandfather was a farmer, and some of my fondest childhood memories involve being in the tobacco fields with him. Many of my character’s traits come straight from him (he really did eat the fat of the meat and he really did go blasting moles in his yard).
Review Fix: How does it feel to be a part of something like this?
Siler: I cherish any opportunity to perform my work. And having three performances in the city is nothing short of a delight.
Review Fix: What are your ultimate goals for this production and for the future?
Siler: For this production: to take people on a ride they will never forget. For the future: More.
Review Fix: What do you think your audiences will enjoy the most?
Siler: The storytelling. This is, I hope, an engaging character. He’s a charmer at first, who takes action when he has to. With any luck people will be on the edge of their seats by the end of it.
Review Fix: What’s next?
Siler: Beckett’s Happy Day’s in August at the Byrdcliffe Theater in Woodstock, with my wife, Bette playing Winnie (Bette directed Sack of Potatoes), directed by Wallace Norman.
Posted by Patrick Hickey Jr. on 3/12/16 • Categorized as Theatre
Review Fix chats with playwright Ric Siler, who discusses his production, “Like a Sack of Potatoes” at this year’s Midtown International Theatre Festival.
About “Like a Sack of Potatoes”:
LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES by Ric Siler, directed by Bette Siler; starring Ric Siler. The ‘shotgun and rock salt talk’ usually was enough to keep boyfriends in line, but when one of his daughters marries an abusive husband, a farmer finds more drastic measures may be called for. (Hillbilly Gothic) *AEA Performance Schedule: Tues 3/15, 7:15pm; Sat 3/19, 7:45pm; Sun 3/20, 5:45pm
Review Fix: What was the inspiration for this project?
Ric Siler: Like a Sack of Potatoes began with an image, a cloud of dust raised by something falling in a dusty barn. After that it was figuring out the story, which was inspired in part by my grandfather who was a farmer in Kentucky and grew tobacco, tomatoes and much more. He would sit under the walnut trees in front of his house and sell his tomatoes.
Review Fix: What’s your creative process like?
Siler: I discover the piece as I’m writing it. I didn’t know where Like a Sack of Potatoes was going when I started it, but as the story grew it took on a life of its own. It came pretty quickly and didn’t require much in the way of rewriting.
Review Fix: What makes this different or special?
Siler: Being from Appalachia informs my writing in not only my ‘voice’ but also the stories I tell. I like to think there is an authenticity which gives people a window into people they don’t normally get to meet, except as stereotypes. I refer to some of my pieces as ‘hillbilly gothic’ with a sense of pride.
Review Fix: What did you learn about yourself through this process?
Siler: It’s funny how much autobiography leeches into these pieces. As I said my grandfather was a farmer, and some of my fondest childhood memories involve being in the tobacco fields with him. Many of my character’s traits come straight from him (he really did eat the fat of the meat and he really did go blasting moles in his yard).
Review Fix: How does it feel to be a part of something like this?
Siler: I cherish any opportunity to perform my work. And having three performances in the city is nothing short of a delight.
Review Fix: What are your ultimate goals for this production and for the future?
Siler: For this production: to take people on a ride they will never forget. For the future: More.
Review Fix: What do you think your audiences will enjoy the most?
Siler: The storytelling. This is, I hope, an engaging character. He’s a charmer at first, who takes action when he has to. With any luck people will be on the edge of their seats by the end of it.
Review Fix: What’s next?
Siler: Beckett’s Happy Day’s in August at the Byrdcliffe Theater in Woodstock, with my wife, Bette playing Winnie (Bette directed Sack of Potatoes), directed by Wallace Norman.
An interview
Final two performances . . . for now
This evening we'll be hitting the boards with Like a Sack of Potatoes, with one more performance tomorrow. I was a touch worried about tomorrow weather-wise but it looks like it's gonna be ok, wet - yes, snowy-yes, but not a blizzard at any rate (we have to wait for the first day of spring to have snow?).
My daughter, Laurette is coming tonight. It will be interesting to see just how much of this piece embarrasses her. My guess is probably a lot! While the two daughters in the piece aren't really based on her, a lot of it sort of is . . . she thinks she has seen this piece before but I'm not so sure . . . she's bringing friends so I hope they don't end up forever referring to her as the one from Mars or Midget . . . which are the two nicknames my character gives his daughters.
Anyway, it should be fun . . . again. I so totally enjoyed the first performance, and the feedback was amazing, but then to have the second one four nights later is a tad strange. We took off Wednesday. After the intensity of the rehearsals leading up to it, it was nice to stop and recharge a bit. When we rehearsed Thursday night it seemed like it had been a week off! So we rehearsed Thursday and Friday . . . and now here we are, coming to the end for this flight of performances.
It's funny how stuff happens. When we put the wraps on this last October in Haverstraw, I didn't know if I'd ever do it again, then, a couple of weeks later I got the email from MITF inviting me along. So who knows what happens next. None of the industry folks I reached out to responded to me, so if they are gonna show up it'll be a surprise. Well one did, Stephen Bishop Seeley, who was the Artistic Director of the Genesius Guild and the moderator of the Revolutionary Writers Workshop there, said he is coming tonight. And Jerry Davis from Burning Coal in Raleigh put it out to his 'peeps' in the area . . . who knows. The one thing I know for sure is that I'm gonna be there with guns blazing . . . telling my story and blowing people's minds just a tad.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: special kudos and love and thanks to Bette, who directed this while working on Happy Days . . .what? Oh yeah, in all her spare time! And directing to her is not a passive thing. She really gets into the weeds and digs and digs and digs . . . the results speak for themselves. She has helped me wring the best out of all the pieces we've worked on together . . . it's an incredible collaboration.
Next up? Readings of my new piece in May (which means really next up will be writing like a demon). And all the while visiting Beckett-land. Happy Days is gonna get the focus for the next few months. And rightfully so. It's an privilege to have the opportunity to do this piece and in the Byrdcliffe Theater no less. Really really cool.
My daughter, Laurette is coming tonight. It will be interesting to see just how much of this piece embarrasses her. My guess is probably a lot! While the two daughters in the piece aren't really based on her, a lot of it sort of is . . . she thinks she has seen this piece before but I'm not so sure . . . she's bringing friends so I hope they don't end up forever referring to her as the one from Mars or Midget . . . which are the two nicknames my character gives his daughters.
Anyway, it should be fun . . . again. I so totally enjoyed the first performance, and the feedback was amazing, but then to have the second one four nights later is a tad strange. We took off Wednesday. After the intensity of the rehearsals leading up to it, it was nice to stop and recharge a bit. When we rehearsed Thursday night it seemed like it had been a week off! So we rehearsed Thursday and Friday . . . and now here we are, coming to the end for this flight of performances.
It's funny how stuff happens. When we put the wraps on this last October in Haverstraw, I didn't know if I'd ever do it again, then, a couple of weeks later I got the email from MITF inviting me along. So who knows what happens next. None of the industry folks I reached out to responded to me, so if they are gonna show up it'll be a surprise. Well one did, Stephen Bishop Seeley, who was the Artistic Director of the Genesius Guild and the moderator of the Revolutionary Writers Workshop there, said he is coming tonight. And Jerry Davis from Burning Coal in Raleigh put it out to his 'peeps' in the area . . . who knows. The one thing I know for sure is that I'm gonna be there with guns blazing . . . telling my story and blowing people's minds just a tad.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: special kudos and love and thanks to Bette, who directed this while working on Happy Days . . .what? Oh yeah, in all her spare time! And directing to her is not a passive thing. She really gets into the weeds and digs and digs and digs . . . the results speak for themselves. She has helped me wring the best out of all the pieces we've worked on together . . . it's an incredible collaboration.
Next up? Readings of my new piece in May (which means really next up will be writing like a demon). And all the while visiting Beckett-land. Happy Days is gonna get the focus for the next few months. And rightfully so. It's an privilege to have the opportunity to do this piece and in the Byrdcliffe Theater no less. Really really cool.
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
Reflections on opening night
I thought the opening went very well indeed. Aside from a somewhat exploding tomato all was well. The audience was responsive, and full of people I know . . . and they were very attuned to what was being presented. The space was a warm little spot, seating 33 or so . . . perfect for this intimate piece. Good comments from people who were there, genuine positive feedback (which you can tell from the faux sort of 'gee that was nice'). It was all I could have hoped for as an opening salvo. Now a night off . . . some touch up work the next couple of nights to keep it fresh, and then a barnstorming last weekend with performances on Saturday and Sunday. I'm still working the industry types to try to get them in, but we'll see. It's doing it that matters, results be damned (though it would be nice to get a little traction here).
On that note a friend asked me yesterday what I hope to achieve with all this (not someone in the arts). My answer was somewhat boiler plate, industry etc. But that question stuck with me for a long time, in fact here I am the next day still thinking about it. It's sort of one of those questions that if you have to ask there's no way to answer. You do it because you can, or must. You do it because that's what drives you. Because there is something inside that has to get out. HAS to get out. Whether it's visual art, writing, acting . . . any form of expression is just that, a form of expression. You want to say something to the world. To make something that wasn't there, and make it as good as it can possibly be. You want to tell stories or enlighten people, or both. But what you really know is that without that means of expression nothing else matters at all.
I have a great deal of respect for the guy that asked me that question, and it wasn't a judgmental question from him at all . . . he really wanted to know. In the moment I couldn't answer him coherently because it was one of those questions you can't be prepared for, or that since it was sincere you don't want to give some half assed answer to. He came to the show last night (drove from Nyack for a 7:15 show - that's a friend). I think after the performance maybe he had a somewhat clearer idea of why I do this . . . I know I did.
On that note a friend asked me yesterday what I hope to achieve with all this (not someone in the arts). My answer was somewhat boiler plate, industry etc. But that question stuck with me for a long time, in fact here I am the next day still thinking about it. It's sort of one of those questions that if you have to ask there's no way to answer. You do it because you can, or must. You do it because that's what drives you. Because there is something inside that has to get out. HAS to get out. Whether it's visual art, writing, acting . . . any form of expression is just that, a form of expression. You want to say something to the world. To make something that wasn't there, and make it as good as it can possibly be. You want to tell stories or enlighten people, or both. But what you really know is that without that means of expression nothing else matters at all.
I have a great deal of respect for the guy that asked me that question, and it wasn't a judgmental question from him at all . . . he really wanted to know. In the moment I couldn't answer him coherently because it was one of those questions you can't be prepared for, or that since it was sincere you don't want to give some half assed answer to. He came to the show last night (drove from Nyack for a 7:15 show - that's a friend). I think after the performance maybe he had a somewhat clearer idea of why I do this . . . I know I did.
Monday, March 14, 2016
Opening Eve
Tomorrow we open in the city with Like a Sack of Potatoes. I picked up the programs today and they look great. We rehearsed tonight and it went acceptably well . . . as often happens though, the 'dress rehearsal' was a little soft, which doesn't concern me, and will no doubt feed me for tomorrow night. You just get to the point where you want to get this in front of people again.
The piece works, that much I know. In the readings and previous performances over the years, the response has always been very good. And in all honesty, the writing is so good that as long as I don't trip over the furniture it should hit the mark.
Aside from the fact that I wrote it and act in it, a lot of me is in the story. I spent time in the tobacco fields when I was a kid, I know the smell and the feel of that . . . I rode on top of the tobacco piled high on a flatbed wagon pulled by tractor to the barn . . . in fact the monologue that I wrote twenty some years ago, that got me into the show with Ellen Burstyn, that got me into Equity and led me to Nyack, was about my grandfather and experiences in the fields . . . it's in my DNA, it's who I am . . . so I really have to work to screw this up!
And I have no intention of screwing this up!
My only job is to go out there and leave nothing for later. I get the opportunity to perform one of my pieces in New York City. How cool is that. I guess you could take that for granted if you're from the area . . . but coming from where I come from, and harboring the dreams I harbored for so many years . . . it's a real gas to actually get to do this . . . it never ever gets old . . . I'm honored to represent for the hillbillies of the world . . .
The piece works, that much I know. In the readings and previous performances over the years, the response has always been very good. And in all honesty, the writing is so good that as long as I don't trip over the furniture it should hit the mark.
Aside from the fact that I wrote it and act in it, a lot of me is in the story. I spent time in the tobacco fields when I was a kid, I know the smell and the feel of that . . . I rode on top of the tobacco piled high on a flatbed wagon pulled by tractor to the barn . . . in fact the monologue that I wrote twenty some years ago, that got me into the show with Ellen Burstyn, that got me into Equity and led me to Nyack, was about my grandfather and experiences in the fields . . . it's in my DNA, it's who I am . . . so I really have to work to screw this up!
And I have no intention of screwing this up!
My only job is to go out there and leave nothing for later. I get the opportunity to perform one of my pieces in New York City. How cool is that. I guess you could take that for granted if you're from the area . . . but coming from where I come from, and harboring the dreams I harbored for so many years . . . it's a real gas to actually get to do this . . . it never ever gets old . . . I'm honored to represent for the hillbillies of the world . . .
Saturday, March 5, 2016
Stop Acting!
I was working on a play once with a cast that included a recent graduate from some acting program somewhere, and one day the director told him: 'You've had 125 hours of acting class and we're seeing every one of them up on that stage! Stop! Acting!'
That is some sage advise if you ask me. And it came to mind as we're rehearsing 'Like a Sack of Potatoes'. It's a strong piece, one of my strongest, and sometimes, when the writer isn't watching, the actor really wants to invest all the feeling and experience and know-how into getting the points across . . . and it just doesn't work. Then my wonderful, insightful and painfully honest director (also wife: Bette) calls me on it.
Moments that are powerful tend to be more so without unneeded actorly punctuation. Of course, the advise to the players in Hamlet springs to mind as I write this . . . it's really all you need to know about acting. Well that and how to peel back the layers that we all resist peeling to really get at the truth and power and depth of a character.
Of course, study is important . . . how else to learn timing, vocal control and movement; how else to exorcise those bad habits . . . but once you are on that stage, everything you know and have done leading up to that moment is behind you . . . all you have is now . . . and now is better if it's emotionally honest and truthful, not some facade you construct with a big all caps WATCH ME ACT on your forehead.
Part of the problem with pieces that are text heavy (a solo piece perhaps?) is that you learn the lines and run them and run them and run them just to get from the beginning to the end without screwing up . . . and then when you start to rehearse some of the bad habits you've developed in running the lines seep into performance. Once you're working on the moment to moment stuff . . . well that's when the magic starts to happen and the discoveries. It's an incredible process.
Anyway . . .
Simple is better.
Makes it sound easy but it's not.
Reminds me of a quote I read somewhere from George Burns (I paraphrase): The hardest part about acting is honesty. If you can fake that you got it made.
That is some sage advise if you ask me. And it came to mind as we're rehearsing 'Like a Sack of Potatoes'. It's a strong piece, one of my strongest, and sometimes, when the writer isn't watching, the actor really wants to invest all the feeling and experience and know-how into getting the points across . . . and it just doesn't work. Then my wonderful, insightful and painfully honest director (also wife: Bette) calls me on it.
Moments that are powerful tend to be more so without unneeded actorly punctuation. Of course, the advise to the players in Hamlet springs to mind as I write this . . . it's really all you need to know about acting. Well that and how to peel back the layers that we all resist peeling to really get at the truth and power and depth of a character.
Of course, study is important . . . how else to learn timing, vocal control and movement; how else to exorcise those bad habits . . . but once you are on that stage, everything you know and have done leading up to that moment is behind you . . . all you have is now . . . and now is better if it's emotionally honest and truthful, not some facade you construct with a big all caps WATCH ME ACT on your forehead.
Part of the problem with pieces that are text heavy (a solo piece perhaps?) is that you learn the lines and run them and run them and run them just to get from the beginning to the end without screwing up . . . and then when you start to rehearse some of the bad habits you've developed in running the lines seep into performance. Once you're working on the moment to moment stuff . . . well that's when the magic starts to happen and the discoveries. It's an incredible process.
Anyway . . .
Simple is better.
Makes it sound easy but it's not.
Reminds me of a quote I read somewhere from George Burns (I paraphrase): The hardest part about acting is honesty. If you can fake that you got it made.
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