Nurturing talent
Local performers need more training opportunities
Machele Miller Dill, director of the Musical Theatre Program at the University of Tulsa
Greg Bollinger
Four weeks into a five-week series, the eight actors in Machele Miller Dill’s community Meisner Technique class had reached maximum discomfort. The buzz in the room was electric. One young woman nodded bravely as Dill challenged her—“your stakes have to be higher”—and then offered suggestions on how to get there.
Fueled by pure trust, the actor began an improvised scene with a partner using Sanford Meisner’s renowned method of repetition, developed in the 1940s. (“You’re sitting.” “I’m sitting.” “You’re sitting!” “I’m sitting….”) After a few minutes of this befuddling exercise (and guided by another Meisner slogan, “fuck ‘polite’”), a sudden well of emotion opened up, the young woman began to cry, and the scene dove into new and rich terrain.
The actors in Dill’s class, which she offered at $10 an hour, ranged from wide-eyed young adults to trained, established theater artists like Jessica Davenport and Rebecca Ungerman, both of whom were exhilarated to learn a new technique.
“I thought, whoa, an actual workshop, an affordable training opportunity for adult actors! Where do you find that?” Ungerman said. “There’s a whole DVD set of Meisner himself teaching his class, but knowing what I know now after four classes, I see how much of it is dependent on connection.”
Tulsa’s performance calendar may be full, but there’s a void when it comes to continuing education for performing artists. “This is the first class I’ve seen in the community that’s a real acting class,” said Davenport. “It’s about developing your art form—treating acting as an art form, as a discipline. We should practice. We shouldn’t just have rehearsal.”
Freelance dance artists can find a handful of training opportunities locally, but for actors there are “how to audition” workshops, many offerings for kids, and that’s about it.
If Tulsa wants its performing arts to grow—in breadth, depth, and national esteem—it needs to make sure its artists can grow. As we begin to realize the economic impact of getting more “butts in seats,” we shouldn’t forget that the best way to attract those viewers in the first place is by putting on performances of superior quality. And quality, like art itself, doesn’t just happen.
Director Frank Gallagher, who describes himself as “really positive on Tulsa theater,” observed that “most people here did some stuff in high school, and they love it and they want to keep doing it and there’s nothing wrong with that. But they’re dealing with a limited skill set, and then they teach themselves from there.”
There are many highly trained artists in town, too, he notes, but even they need to keep learning and practicing. (Mikhail Baryshnikov still takes class, for heaven’s sake.)
“Are you grounded in the fundamentals? Do you have a philosophical foundation?” Gallagher asked. “If you don’t have that, you and the audience can have a lot of fun, but you’re not going to continue to get better in an obvious way. You’re just going to kind of play around.”
Local performers, by and large, work full-time jobs and rehearse and perform (often without pay) on nights and weekends. Not only is it tough to find time to take a class, it’s tough to find the money, too. For those with the expertise to teach, finding affordable space can be an issue. The cost of space rental is then passed on to students, driving up class prices and discouraging enrollment.
“The lack of workshops and classes is a money issue,” Gallagher said.
Local performing arts companies already have their hands full (and their bank accounts strained) putting on shows. They need help in deepening the work, which takes more than self-instruction. Gallagher suggested a grant devoted to theater education for adults, which would make it possible and affordable—free, even—for people to receive training.
Artists like Dill are hearing requests for more classes—in everything from basic acting to stage combat—and are eager to offer them.
“I’m still a student,” she said. “I just love what I do and I’m passionate about it. If that can help somebody, awesome.”
Her community students noticed that the training was helping them to be more connected, honest, and fearless actors—“to live truthfully under imaginary circumstances,” as Meisner himself put it. When the actors benefit, the audience and the whole community benefit, too.
The talent is already here, but it needs ongoing training and development if it’s going to stay and thrive.
For more from Alicia, read her article on Thomas Williams's solo cabaret, "Villains."