Working Title: Chatter, Abortion, and Bay Area Blah Blah Blah

Will Leschber talks around our creative babies.

You hear that? You can’t hear that?! Oh it’s getting loud. That’s Bay Area chatter. That chatter is the building discussion of the future of theatre in the Bay Area. Where are we? Where are we headed? Who in the area is steering the ship. Can we just get some damn people to care about this flexing vessel that so many Bay Area artist call their home community. Many do care and that’s why I suppose so many conversations have surfaced. The list I’ve witnessed goes something like: Brad Erickson’s Executive Director’s note in this month Theatre Bay Area magazine; to a round table discussion of Theatre Pub bloggers (Claire Rice is crazy well-informed on this ; to the new podcast sensation “Born Ready” with Rob Ready and Ray Hobbs (the episode with fellow T-Pub blogger Allison Page was quite good.); and on to casual conversations I’ve had among friends. If you listen…the conversation will come!

The conversation breaks upon a macro levels and micro levels. The TBA Executive Director’s note will tell you, “For far too many, the particular power of theatre is largely unrealized.” It’s wonderful to begin the discussion with an overarching statement like this but it doesn’t give me any direction to work towards. It encompasses everything but helps us fix nothing. The point of the note isn’t to fix everything; it’s to address an issue, which it successfully does. Discussing small micro issues can be more beneficial and to the point. Or maybe just that addressing one specific point can be more productive.

Take for example Velina Brown in her July/August TBA column, “The Business of Show Biz”. She gracefully speaks to a concerned reader about ‘Feminism vs Career’. A young actress writes in to say, “My problem is I am mostly cast as victims of some sort–domestic violence, rape, etc…I want my work to show more positive images of women, but I also don’t want my career to come to a screeching halt while I wait for the few strong women’s roles to come around. What do I do?” Velina wisely addresses the issue. She comes to the point that individual artists have to decide which roles are worthy of their artistic goals and stresses the benefits of maintain integrity while navigating accepting or politely passing on a project Brown says, “the bottom line is you have to live with the ramifications of your choices. If the idea of doing a project doesn’t feel good to you, don’t do it. Sure, you ‘ll have to make touch choices at times. We all do.” Addressing this one specific topic and insisting on maintaining artistic integrity on an individual basis is just as important as an overarching general conversation. Moreover, it can improve the larger theatre scene by progressing the stories playwrights/producers choose to tell instead of remaining mired in tired portrayals that too often appear on stage.

Reading this column reminded me of the wonderful new indie film, Obvious Child. Talk about turning a tired genre on it’s ear… Obvious Child is being marketed as the “best romantic comedy about abortion that you’ll ever see!” Now I know, you are thinking What the fuck?! Just wait. I’m telling you, you should go out of your way to see this. It’s possible the funniest film of the year. Also it tells a familiar story in a genuinely fresh way with a new unique voice. Jenny Slate plays the lead role as a 20 something comedienne whose unexpected pregnancy forces her to deal with her issues and bridging the gap into adulthood.

You may know Jenny Slate from her television work (Parks and Rec, Married) or possible her notorious single season on SNL in which she let slip on air the F-bomb. Her contract was not renewed. If not there you may recognize her voice as the viral phenomenon Marcel the Shell. It would have been easy to typecast Slate as a nasally voiced annoying bitch best friend, but she’s so much more than that. This odd comedienne/actress was actually the valedictorian of her university! She’s smart, funny and has created/worked on a myriad of projects ranging from critically acclaimed variety shows, to podcasting with her long time comedy partner (and husband), Dean Fleischer-Camp, to animated shorts and voice work, then on to diverse acting roles. These culminate in Obvious Child. Jenny Slate’s multi-talents help layer her character with depth, humor, crass vulnerability, raw emotion and exuberant empathy. She may not be everyone’s cup of tea but Slate’s character is nothing if not a fully realized and worthy of your time.

In all the chatter about the future of theater in the bay or spotlight indie films, we still need to remember that what we choose to see and the individual artistic choices we make all have consequences. If we are building something together, we should be conscious of our shared influence. Both Velina Brown’s advice and the thematic through-line of Jenny’s Slate’s Obvious Child ultimately comes down to making an informed decision and then realizing that our choices have consequences. Slate’s character takes a risk and continues on her path in the wake of that risk. Brown wants us as actors to think about how our role choices could affect out future careers. Decide what you want, put yourself out there and live confidently in the choice made.

Falling With Style: My Failed Attempt To Pursue My Dream Was The Best Thing I’ve Ever Done

In the final installment of her column, Helen puts a bow on her experience of jumping off the corporate ladder to pursue a full-time career in the performing arts.

I started this column a year ago to document my journey towards becoming (in my own words) “employed full-time by the arts.”

Over the course of my investigative process, I did a lot of studying (notably, at ACT’s Summer Training Congress and with Theatre Bay Area’s ATLAS program). I tried a number of styles of performing, from cabaret to children’s theatre, readings to fully-staged productions. I tried my hand at professionally manning other parts of the production: I stage managed; I music directed; I assistant directed. And I even dipped a toe in the waters of arts administration and development at one of the largest Equity theaters in the Bay Area.

Throughout much of this time, I held one or more part-time jobs to ensure a flexible schedule. And to be frank, I would have been financially under water without my partner’s help and encouragement.

Ultimately, I found that the goal I’d set for myself was counter to my true desires. Once my avocation became my vocation, it was more stressful than enjoyable: I could no longer choose projects purely out of enjoyment. I noticed myself wearily considering jobs for their paycheck or resume-boosting potential.

Something was definitely rotten in the state of Denmark, but I couldn’t figure out how to make it better — how to describe what I really wanted. And, wrong as the goal I had in front of me might have been, I didn’t want to give up on it — not after I’d sacrificed so much to go after it.

The answer hit me right in the gut when, at one of the ATLAS sessions I attended, Velina Brown said she practices “heart-centered acting.”

It bopped me on the nose when, through TBA connections, I sat in on TheatreWorks’ auditions and saw sublime work from Equity and non-Equity actors alike.

It goosed me when, thanks to the Theater Pub collective, I finally attended my first Saturday Write Fever and listened to a dozen just-written monologues (and even performed one myself).

And it razzed me right up close in my face when I was asked out of the blue to participate in a reading of The Fourth Messenger with Equity and non-Equity mega-talent all around me.

Now — bruised, sore and one step closer to enlightenment — by George, I think I’ve got it. It seems my ambition is to become a heart-centered actor, and in doing so, create superb art (regardless of my union status, my performance frequency, my ‘type’, or any other malarkey).

My focus for now is on step one of my journey towards heart-centered acting: developing a practice of heart-centered living.

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Now, in these last moments before this column comes to a close and my voice rejoins the continuum, I’d like to thank Stuart Bousel for the many jolts of artistic inspiration and introspection he’s provided me: this column, his own tome-like blog posts (can something be tome-like if it’s only in digital form?), Saturday Write Fever, and SF Olympians, to name a few. Thanks for being a creative catalyst for so many people, Stuart.

Helen Laroche (www.helenlaroche.com) is an artist currently living in San Francisco. She bruises easily; probably a B12 deficiency. You should see the other guy, though. She continues to write at www.sayshelen.com and she always loves a good story.