The Best Survival Gig In Town

I started working in the commercial voice over world a couple of years ago. Life. Changing. Experience.

Why did no one tell me that this was a thing? Like, an actual acting job that can catapult your career and provide an incredible living.

“Give me your 6 year plan on how will you get to Broadway/Hollywood/Your Favorite TV Show,” said every college professor in the acting department.

I’m all about this exercise. Set yourself some goals. High expectations. Objectives that are ambitious but palpable.

However, there is one slight miscalculation made by every early-career actor when presented with this exercise and I think part of the problem lies in how this assignment is presented.

Therefore, I propose a more accurate exercise:

“Give me your 6 year plan on how will you get your dream job in the acting business, but since this is a very specific and competitive industry where you’re more than likely not making any money in your first professional years, please include exactly how will you be making a living while pursuing your acting goals.”

Okay, maybe the tittle is a little long. But the reality is that unless we get extremely lucky, we will be waiting tables, walking dogs, working at Pearl Studios, etc., before we can start making a living out of our profession. New York is expensive. And honestly, LA is too. Enter Commercial Voice Over (you know, the one thing that my college conveniently “forgot” to include in their undergraduate program).

Yes, there are colleges that offer some voice over curriculum, but commercial v/o is often forgotten, or at least not given the attention it deserves. Especially by students. And I don’t blame them! There is a stigma surrounding commercial voice over where some assert that it’s not really acting. Not only within our own ranks (because actors only work on Netflix or Broadway, right?) but also in a general aspect— the misconception being that a commercial actor must be an actor who failed at “real” acting if only because the general public, and even some of our colleagues, consider commercials something that anyone can do without needing skill or talent.

When I was applying for an Artist Visa, which is a work visa for international actors, I couldn’t include my commercial voice over credits because the US government sees commercial voice over work in the same light.

“You don’t have to be an actor to do a commercial voice over.” - The US Government

Which, by the way… how dare they? Secondly, wrong! I’ll simplify it ––– all it takes to do commercial voice over is to be able to read words from a page and make them sound as if those words are not being read from a page. So essentially… acted? Exactly. Acted by an actor; the people that train for years to be able to recite and deliver words as if they are not being read from a page.

So yeah… not a great reputation for commercial voice overall.

Even more ironic – Commercial Voice Over is the highest paying branch in the business when broken down hourly.

Let me explain.

Leonardo DiCaprio got paid millions of dollars to go freeze his ass for weeks in the Canadian Rookies. Don’t get me wrong, I will gladly go up naked to the Canadian Rookies for millions of dollars. But Leo is working 12-hour shifts every day, while quite literally freezing, and eating raw liver.

In contrast, I recently spoke to a colleague of mine who booked a campaign for Purell a couple of years back. The script for this commercial was, “Say no to germs. Purell”. Pretty straight forward, I’d say. Probably took him about 45 min to record the commercial. Oh, and he was fully clothed and warm while recording. Probably even sipping on some nice, hot, herbal tea to support his voice. He also ate a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich that was fully cooked. And he walked out with 6 figures from that one job. 45 min…. warm…. not eating raw liver…six figures.

Now, I’m not dissing the Leo’s of the world by any means, and my friend definitely didn’t get an Oscar for his work on the Purell campaign, but what I’m saying is –– Commercial Voice Over pays really well with little to no time commitment on one’s behalf.

If anything, Commercial Voice Over frees up time. It offers financial stability and even has the potential to sponsor personal projects. It’s also a way into SAG and Equity. It’s a pension. It’s a path to bigger, more ambitious projects, and frankly it’s the best “survival” gig an actor can find.

If you were also bamboozled by your undergraduate program and were never exposed to the wonders of Commercial Voice Over, remember –– you are not alone.

It’s okay. I’m here for you.

What do you need to do if you want to get into Commercial Voice Over? Take a class. Meet other actors, meet other teachers, meet casting directors; expand your network. I myself teach an intro class to commercial voice over at AMCP (The Acting Masterclass Project) –– which by the way, AMCP’s entire MO is offering affordable classes to early career actors. Check them out (amcpny.com)! But honestly, any class will do –– Actors Connection, One on One, The Growing Studio, *insert any other independent studio in NY or LA*.

Once you know your way around the mic and have several classes under your belt, you can start auditioning. There are several platforms specifically for voice over auditions. Take for instance voices123 or voices.com. And don’t forget the usual suspects–– I keep seeing so many V/O auditions on Backstage and Actors Access. Go get ’em!

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Andrés Montejo is a New York based, Costa Rican actor. Credits include performances at The Artery as Roland/Constellations by Nick Payne, The Fulton Theatre as Oscar/Sweat by Lynn Nottage, Shakespeare on the Sound as Duke of Austria/King John, The Flea Theatre as Lawyer/Odd Man Out, Central Square Theatre (Boston) as Daniel Castro and Reuben Cano/ Young Nerds of Color, The Playroom Theatre as Don John/Much Ado About Nothing. In front of the camera, Andrés has appeared in several short films and commercials as well as featuring as Ellis Archer in Strawberry Flavored Plastic, on AMAZON PRIME. He can also been seen in the award winning film Seneca on HBO Max. Montejo has also dived into commercial voice over, where he has participated in campaigns for Chase Bank, Twisted Tea, PEPSI, Bud Light, 1800 Tequila, Nissan, amongst others. Most recently, Andrés became the new voice worldwide in Spanish for Polo Ralph Lauren’s Fragrances.

 G&E In Motion does not necessarily agree with the opinions of our guest bloggers. That would be boring and counterproductive. We have simply found the author’s thoughts to be interesting, intelligent, unique, insightful, and/or important. We may not agree on the words but we surely agree on their right to express them and proudly present this platform as a means to do so.

The Work: Why I Teach Scene Study

As an actor, director, instructor and mentor, I firmly believe that the professional actor must constantly be WORKING.  Whether gainfully employed as an actor or continually and diligently engaged in the study of your craft.

My ultimate focus in teaching is Scene Study.  I am resolute that professional actors must be constantly engaged in preparing, building and creating characters in class.  It is critical work, vital for satisfactorily attaining excellence in the actor’s art and craft.  Whether you are working a paid acting job, or investing in your career by attending class, you must always be studying and plying your art and craft.   This is the journey, the arc, and the ultimate objective of an acting career.  Always be studying, preparing, self-educating, researching, practicing, and performing.  This makes for more cultured and civilized artists, without whom, the world has significantly less humanity.  

As a preliminary note, when I teach, my class focuses on scenes from theatre plays. Scenes are chosen by the actors from the entire historical canon of the world’s plays, from the Ancient Greek to the World Theatre of today and every period in between.  Scenes from stage plays are most useful for instruction.  We do not perform our scene work from screenplays, teleplays, novels or short stories.  The primary reason for this is that the literature of the theatre is written specifically for the immediate live, emotional, spiritual and energetic exchange between actor and audience.  There is no experience quite like it.  Screenplays, teleplays, novels or short stories are created with the hope of that exchange to take place at a later time.  Film and Television are more of a visual medium, produced with intention for that same exchange happening through the screen, albeit in a delayed fashion.  Novels and short stories leave this exchange to the private imagination of the reader. 

Throughout time, theater has played an important role in societies all around the world. The theater helped societies develop their religions and myths and played a key role in influencing thought throughout recorded history.  Acting on the stage, doing the literature from the historical cannon is the focus of what I teach.  It helps students learn to read and think critically.  This training translates to professional acting in Feature Films and Television as well. 

Scene Study is, as the name clearly implies, the study of scenes.  It requires the preparation of a scene or segment of a play, performed with scene partners in front of the teaching director who will then give notes, directions, adjustments and suggestions to improve and advance the acting work along.  Scene study is a vital practice for the professional actor.   Like a good physical trainer, sports coach, or orchestral conductor, an insightful teaching director can avail much to the growth, experience and cohesion of the actor and their performances.

Scene study is the best environment to teach acting for the professional.  With their partners they perform a dramatic or comedic scene and are then offered input, direction and feedback from teachers, classmates, and each other.  Scene Study also allows the actor to learn how to prepare for performance by working out actions, objectives, blocking, and direction on their own before bringing it into acting class.  Once presented, it is up to the teacher to direct and guide the actors into a more realized, fulfilling and honest portrayal and presentation of the playwrights’ work.  This is how the actor grows, matures and keeps the total instrument sharp.  With the energy of mind, body, soul, imagination, emotions and memory, our goal is to get all senses firing on all cylinders.

The greatest actors, the very best professional performers I have ever known NEVER STOP WORKING.  If they are working on an acting gig for pay, they are working professionals. If they are paying to work on their craft in class, they are working professionals.  Both reap rewards artistically and financially.   This is the best way to invest in your acting career.  The dividends are real and valuable.

Scene study hones skills such as emotional connection and character development as well as objective, tactics, and action.  These are some of the intangible things that are not readily available to the actor working alone in a vacuum.

Scene Study class for professional working actors is best for the actors who already have a basic theatre education, training and technique and are ready to take their art and craft to a higher performance level that mirrors a paid work environment.  It provides the discipline and focus required for the paid professional performances you do in your working career.  Scene study class also allows the teacher to direct the actors so that they are very comfortable in the give and take of direction and in the collaborative artistic work environment.   

Scene study compels the actor to listen, react, and focus on scene partners, take and receive notes, make adjustments and implement direction.  This is important because it allows an actor to see if all the techniques and exercises they use in class can be utilized to create an honest and dynamic performance with their scene partner and director.  It compels us to focus on the other actor and listen actively. Acting is REACTING. If the actor fails to listen and react the viability and believability of the scene vaporizes.  

As to the networking and collaborative nature of our careers, one of my constant mantras is: “Work begets work, work begets friends and friends beget work.”  This is a tangible benefit of Scene Study class.

Unlike the painter and his canvas, the musician and her violin, the dancer at the ballet barre, or even the woodworker and his lathe, the actor cannot exclusively work alone, without collaboration.  Naturally, you can work your monologues, memorize and rehearse lines alone, but ultimately acting is a collaborative art.  It requires an exchange of thoughts, words, energy, ideas and action between two or more souls.  Other than being engaged in a paid acting job, most of our work as actors must be done in the constant pursuit of bettering and honing all of the necessary tools of the trade.  The best place for that is in a solid and ongoing Scene Study Class with other professional actors and a strong teaching director.  Truth be told, much of the professional work I have gotten in my entertainment career has come from friends and colleagues I’ve met on jobs and in acting classes.  Those bookings far outweigh the auditions I have received from my agents over the years.  Work, friends, networking, and acting class have all helped me book many, many lucrative acting jobs.  

Let’s look at some simple definitions from the Oxford Dictionary.

·      TECHNIQUE:  A way of carrying out a particular task, especially the execution or performance of an artistic work.  Acting is a Technique.

·      METHOD:  A particular form of procedure for accomplishing or approaching something.  Acting is a Method.

·      ART:  The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.  Acting is Art.

·      CRAFT:  An occupation or trade requiring skill as an artist. Acting is a craft. 

·      GIFT:  A notable capacity, talent or endowment.  Acting is a gift.

The results are interesting and have a common theme.  Each definition above was the first result of researching each word.  The importance of this bears further investigation and focus.

Being an actor requires acquiring and applying a wide range of skills encompassing the following:

• TECHNIQUE: Good stage, screen or vocal presence.

• METHOD: The ability to enter into another character and engage an audience.

• MEMORY: The ability to memorize lines, movement, moments, memories.

• INTELLECT: Good understanding of dramatic techniques.

• INSPIRATION: Having the confidence, energy and dedication to perform.

• IMAGINATION: Creative insight.

I am often posed with the question, “What is the difference between ‘Method Acting’ and ‘Classical/Technical ’ acting practices?”  To which do I adhere to and teach?  I always answer: why limit yourself to one style or discipline?  Both are required to serve and inform the actor’s performance.   Let’s briefly define each of these disciplines as both approaches to acting can be vital tools in the actor's quest for a truly believable performance.  

Very simply put, “Method Acting” as we know it today began with Constantin Stanislavski at the Moscow Arts Theatre, which he co-founded in 1898 and developed until his death in 1938.  Stanislavski method acting techniques, originally known as “The System” were developed to help actors build believable characters. The process, which allows actors to use their personal histories to express authentic emotion and create rich characters, has been taught by many great teachers since, including Stella Adler, Lee Strasberg and Sanford Meisner among others.  It has matured and evolved over the ensuing years and has been the basis for many of history’s greatest performances.  Method acting helps actors create believable emotions and actions in the characters they portray.   

But even Stanislavski believed in and taught Classical Training or “Technique” as it is referred to today; it was necessary as a foundation to successful and memorable acting performances.  He believed that the actor must possess in-depth knowledge of different classical techniques and principles through which they can improve their acting.  Therefore, why try to separate the physical from the emotional experience in your practice and performance? 

Technique or Classical Acting has been around for centuries, although it has its modern roots in the British theater.  More focused on control and precision in performance, classical actors are more action-oriented rather than emotion-oriented. Classical actors often bring their characters to life with exactness and meticulousness and the solid delivery of a well-written scene can make a deep and memorable impact on audiences all the same.  

Classical acting is a very broad term that takes into consideration the foundations of training and skills the actor acquires through study and practice.  This includes: voice production, movement, speech, and practicing those skills while working on classical as well as modern plays.  A classically trained actor also knows how to handle verse and understands the classics from the Greeks to Shakespeare, to the modern drama of today.  Quite simply, Classical Acting suggests that the actor has spent a considerable amount of time in Classical Training.  These are very brief definitions of the acting philosophies I believe in and teach. 

It is my firm belief that actors must bring together both method and technique into their art and craft.  You must have a deep working knowledge and expertise in both method acting and technical acting so that you have a smooth blend of both.  A careful, calibrated and deft blending of both acting philosophies, results in a more satisfying and fulfilling “Method/Technique.”  Either discipline practiced to the exclusion of the other has less gratifying results, in many cases for both the performer and the audience.   So, is acting an art or a craft?  I say the two are most definitely inextricable.   As the years go by, with constant work, your gift set coupled with craftsmanship can result in an ownership of your art, in other words: mastery.  

The painter, the potter, the musician, the dancer and the actor must all have a solid foundation, grasp and proficiency with their technique or craft, before they can truly be free to create art.  If the painter doesn’t know the brushes, canvases and paints thoroughly it restrains their freedom and ultimately their art.  Also, the painter must have knowledge of art history, individual artists, the masters, the canon of world art, art methodology, and art theory as they all inform artists in their individual art and in their individual creative moments. 

As an Actor, getting yourself a broad education in basic acting technique, stagecraft, scenic design, lighting design, costuming, makeup, stage direction, stage management, theatre history, drama, comedy, the classics, and Shakespeare are all critical building blocks. Having this overarching knowledge of the theatre allows all of that study to be in you, part of you, and readily available to you.  It informs your performances consciously and subconsciously.  It brings comfort, peace and relaxation to your creative being.  In this case knowledge truly IS power.  Then and only then can you be the complete artist to freely prepare, build, and create living characters, roles, and performances.

By definition, the word craft refers to a set of skills that with sustained learning and practice over time leads to high levels of proficiency.  Gaining a craft is a commitment.  For some, it is a lifelong journey.  For the very best work, it is required.  Actors are tradesmen and acting is, as a vocation, the plying of your craftsmanship in an artistic way.  This takes practice, technique, skill and a certain gift set. Mastering it takes a lifetime.

 What is being gifted?  For starters, it is a blessing.  However it is just the beginning of art.  Your gift set is the starting point and without diligent application it can be squandered.  Instinct, imagination, intellect, vision, a sharp mind, a good instrument, and inspiration… these are all gifts. Happy are those who have multiple gifts, but that is simply the beginning. The actor must blend their gift set with focused, continual practice of the art and craft of acting.  That is the work.  A. B. C. = Always Be Creating!

Acting as your ART requires Action, Imagination, Concentration, Relaxation, Emotion, Memory, Motivation, a Sense of Truth and Faith and ultimately, Communion with others.  Genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration, and recognizing that is where true genius lies.  Applying that knowledge is the key to success.  The Actor must relentlessly pursue THE WORK.  This all adds up to real moments of living the scene and the character in unison with your fellow actors.  It allows your body, mind, emotions, and soul to remain loose while your art, craft, technique, and performances remain tight.  You have to stay loose to be tight.  Artistic flow comes from this work and its discipline.  Artistry comes from a solid classical foundation with incessant study and practice.

The premise and philosophy of what I teach in my professional scene study class, entitled “THE WORK” is very direct, very straightforward and very simple.  Actors MUST always be working, whether you are being paid to work, or paying to do your work.  Every professional actor knows there will always be times between paying acting jobs.  It is vital to always be practicing your art and craft, even between those paying jobs.  Like a doctor practices medicine and a lawyer practices law, so too must professional actors practice their art and craft thus rendering a career as viable as medicine or law, and for a select few just as lucrative.  The continual and constant scene study we practice in class ensures the professional actor is persistently and diligently studying, working and growing, honing, and sharpening their tools.   Our art demands it of us and that’s exactly what scene study class is for and why it is so vitally imperative.

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Christopher “Chiz” Chisholm is a classically trained, award-winning Actor, Director, Producer, Writer, Creative Executive and acting teacher who has spent his career in all facets of the entertainment industry.  As an actor he has appeared on the New York stage and Hollywood soundstages, as well as repertory and regional theatres across the country and around the globe.  Mr. Chisholm has performed in over 200 stage productions, feature films and television shows in his rich career.  From Shakespeare to Shepard and Albee to Williams, Chiz has starred in classics, comedies, dramas and dozens of musicals over the years.  Chiz has been teaching Acting, Technique, Scene Study, Audition Preparation and The Business of Show Business for over 30 years from coast to coast and around the globe.  From New York to Los Angeles, Miami and Texas to Minneapolis, Chiz has worked with professional adult actors to assist in the honing of their craft, navigating their acting career paths and helping them to book jobs. Chisholm currently runs an ongoing scene study studio called THE WORK.

G&E In Motion does not necessarily agree with the opinions of our guest bloggers. That would be boring and counterproductive. We have simply found the author’s thoughts to be interesting, intelligent, unique, insightful, and/or important. We may not agree on the words but we surely agree on their right to express them and proudly present this platform as a means to do so.

Poetry’s Hold on Me

Artwork by Victoria Cebotar

Poems pop up unexpectedly. I find it’s better to allow than command their appearance. But I am required to put pen to paper or hover fingers above a keyboard and be still. The seeds for poems are in the wind, the trees, the dirt, the news, works of art, interactions with humans and other beings who catch my attention. Some poems wake me up in the middle of the night suggesting edits, additions, new directions.

I grew up in a house filled with books. My father was a singer, an actor and a sales executive and my mother was a drama major in college who became a high school English teacher and advisor to the Drama club. Both taught me to appreciate fine writing and the power of clear communication, which I suppose is what led me to study anthropological linguistics and then fall into a career in publishing. 

I’ve always read much more prose than poetry, but my writing has taken the form of poetry — the free verse kind.

For that I have to thank my high school English teacher Arthur Smith, who gave me A Stone, A Leaf, A Door, a book of Thomas Wolfe’s gorgeous prose refashioned as poetry. And the more I write, the more I take to heart my college English professor William Gifford’s insistence on succinct and precise writing, no matter what form it takes.

Over the years, I’ve written poetry in cycles, with lengthy gaps between forays. A couple of decades ago, I shared some poems with friends. That gave me the courage to attend a Performance Poets Association open mic in Glen Cove, which led to opportunities to read as a featured poet at coffeehouse and bookstore events and then to a few acceptances for publication. I tried a poetry workshop but was too unsure of myself at the time to continue.

© Emily-Sue Sloane

First published in We Are Beach Glass, by Emily-Sue Sloane (2022) 

I felt I needed to sort out what I wanted and needed from this creative process. I talked about it often with my wife, Linda Sussman, who is a singer and songwriter, and my brother-in-law, Scudder Parker, who is a poet. Was it enough just to write? Did I need to be published? To read in front of an audience?

At some point, life took over and I simply stopped writing. For a very long time.

A few years ago, after I retired from my day job in publishing, I revisited some of my old poems — so old that I first had to reformat the files on my computer or retype them altogether! I saw that some needed revising, and that was the beginning of my pathway back. I attended a poetry workshop at the local library and received a warm welcome there, as well as encouragement and suggestions of other workshops to check out. New poems started to flow. The weekly workshops drove me to keep writing.

I began to submit my work for publication. When the first acceptance during this phase popped into my email, Linda and I did our happy dance right in the middle of a Manhattan Starbucks, where we were killing time before a Sweet Honey in the Rock concert. Every acceptance since has elicited the same level of excitement!

My daily routine these days is to spend a few hours working on my poetry: writing, revising, submitting for publication, organizing, trashing. I attend two weekly writing workshops, a poetry appreciation meeting and occasional readings and open mics. One positive aspect of sheltering at home in a pandemic has been the accessibility of poetry events on Zoom.

I continue to explore what I enjoy about writing and what I want and need from the creative process — often wishing that I could make music or draw instead. 

© Emily-Sue Sloane

First published in We Are Beach Glass, by Emily-Sue Sloane (2022)

For me, writing is meditation. Sometimes it takes me to a deep place where time stops and words flow; other times my chattering mind churns up only garbage. I try to follow Naomi Goldberg’s advice in her book Writing Down the Bones to write, simply write, without judgment; write down the compost in order to get to what lives underneath.

Some poems appear on the page nearly finished; others are a struggle, forcing me to think more deeply about what I’m trying to say. Some require research and lengthy consultations with a dictionary or thesaurus. Some prompt me to write about the process itself.

I’m almost always surprised by the results.

Many people dislike editing their work; others never stop revising. I enjoy editing and continue to learn ways to improve, especially from other poets at my workshops. Like most poets, I’ve learned to “kill my darlings,” those metaphors, similes and phrases that the poet may love but that really don’t serve the poem. And I’m always working to tilt my writing more toward poetry than prose.

My wife is my first reader and best editor. She brings her musical and literary sensibilities to the page. If I initially resist her suggestions, I usually come to realize that she’s right.

I enjoy sharing my poetry, but I don’t like to boast about it. Social media provides an opportunity for the former but necessitates the latter. Submitting poems to journals, anthologies and contests is a lot like playing the lottery: It takes me from hope to disappointment and occasionally to joy — just enough success to keep me in the game. Reading poems to an audience is a more immediate and intimate way to share, even on Zoom, and the experience usually clarifies what does and doesn’t work as spoken word. But as an introvert, I admit those are the times I wish I had inherited my dad’s talent and delight in performing!

© Emily-Sue Sloane

First published in Shot Glass Journal (Muse-Pie Press), June 2020

Every day I worry that I will stop writing again. Until that happens, I am putting one word in front of the other, calling them to order and sending poems out into the world, where I hope they will resonate as true, providing solace for whatever’s ailing a reader or listener, and touching a funny bone or heart along the way.

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Emily-Sue Sloane is a lifelong Long Islander who writes poetry to capture moments of wonder, worry and human connection. She is the author of We Are Beach Glass, a new full-length poetry collection (BookBaby, 2022). Emily-Sue has won first-place awards in poetry contests held by Calling All Writers, the Long Island Fair, Nassau County Poet Laureate Society, Performance Poets Association and Princess Ronkonkoma Productions, and she was a finalist in the Babylon Village Poetry Contest.

Additional publishing credits include print and online journals and anthologies: Amethyst Review; The Avocet; Bards Annual; Boston Literary Magazine; CHAOS: The Poetry Vortex; Corona, an anthology of poems; Escape, a CAW Anthology; Hope, a CAW Anthology; Front Porch Review; The Long Island Quarterly; Mobius; Muddy River Poetry Review; Never Forgotten: 100 Poets Remember 9/11; Panoply; Paumonok; Poeming Pigeon: From Pandemic to Protest; The Poet’s Art; PPA Literary Review; The RavensPerch; Shot Glass Journal; Suffolk County Poetry Review; Trees in a Garden of Ashes; and Walt’s Corner.

For more information, please visit emilysuesloane.com

G&E In Motion does not necessarily agree with the opinions of our guest bloggers. That would be boring and counterproductive. We have simply found the author’s thoughts to be interesting, intelligent, unique, insightful, and/or important. We may not agree on the words but we surely agree on their right to express them and proudly present this platform as a means to do so.

From Blue Skies to Red Ink: John Chatterton Reflects on his Midtown International Theatre Festival

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I was once riding in a cab with some people from a New York City theater company and fell into discussion with their artistic director/producer. I told him about the Midtown International Theatre Festival (MITF), then in its first season. The year was 2000. He asked me if I had any trepidation about the upcoming festival.

“No sweat,” I said. “We’re paying the theater a third of the gross. The shows are getting a third of the gross. So we’re guaranteed a third of the gross. What can go wrong?”

He nodded sagely, as one does when talking to a lunatic. 

Not long after, if memory holds, the theater dumped us on the basis that we had no legitimate press agent and were likely to scratch up a giant Zero on the box-office scoreboard (actually, we ended up doing well in the grosses department; net…not so much). We now had to hustle to get venues, and that involved paying some of them cash. Even theaters aren’t stupid in July. And I needed some staff to open said theaters while I was raking in the money on Wall Street to pay the losses on the Festival.

Still, we presented some 19 shows, spread out over four theaters (not sure why; the details are lost to the mists of time). I think we grossed $35,000 and lost $15,000, though I’m not sure.

I started the Festival because I got a bright idea while publishing a little magazine called oobr, an acronym for Off-Off-Broadway Review -- “the only publication devoted exclusively to reviewing the Off-Off-Broadway scene.” 

Actually, MITF was the brainchild of one of my reviewers, responding to the birth of FringeNYC by suggesting we needed a Midtown fringe festival. Nobody else leapt on his idea, so two years later, I did.

Our beginnings were humble. Put it this way: two of our theaters were at 750 Eighth Avenue. Those with gray enough hair will remember the building with a shudder. I brought bagels for the crew at a production meeting; 20 minutes after putting them down, ready for a snack, I opened the bag and found it crawling with roaches. We had only one box office and theaters on two floors, so the public was always getting lost. Not to mention the critic who ended up stuck in the elevator, which wasn’t the most reliable means of vertical transport.

 Still, we struggled on. I got laid off just after 9/11 but kept going with the Festival, funding it by the time-honored method of deficit financing. We moved up in our taste in theaters, slowly but surely. Just after the layoff, I had another brainwave -- why not start a rehearsal studio in the Garment District, where Off-Off-Broadway production companies seemed to cluster?

Since I had an excellent 1040 from the previous year, and owned some property in Massachusetts, I was able to get a real-estate company to rent me a studio on W. 36th St., near 9th Ave. I sat in the studio and looked out at the empty spaces, hypnotized by the pigeons arcing in the air. I called the studio Where Eagles Dare, for the young actors spreading their wings. Soon, I had another studio on the ground floor, which I converted into a theater. It seated 40 on risers and was a perfect space for solo shows. Unfortunately I had to dump the theater when my lease ran out because a comedy club started up next door, and the MC’s amplification was intolerable.

Always the aggressive entrepreneur, I expanded the upstairs studio to three spaces, notwithstanding the old saw that the two principal reasons for business failure are undercapitalization and too-rapid expansion, both of which I exhibited in spades. Somehow I convinced my landlord to let me trade in my upstairs studios for a whole floor, thereby increasing my overhead to a crushing figure. Better not run into bad financial weather!

Of course, the financial crash of 2008-10 happened immediately, and Where Eagles Dare slid, first slowly and then with increasing velocity, into a sea of red ink, never to return. 

Still, the MITF continued. My managing producer had been a stalwart soul over seven years, but we came to a parting of the ways in 2011. I had to hire a whole new staff, and the new arrivals were from Off-, not Off-Off-, Broadway, meaning I was paying a whole lot more to present a theater festival with $15 tickets. After a disastrous year in 2015, when I had insufficient shows in the lineup to support two expensive theaters, the writing was on the wall for my days of theatrical entrepreneurship (also for my health, which deteriorated sharply in 2017). I shuttered the MITF in 2017.

Would I do it again? Damn straight. Maybe if I learned to anticipate problems better, to look around corners as I speeded toward oblivion, I’d have had better luck. But for over 20 years I was intimately involved with New York Theater. Now I’m relaxing in the Florida sun, starting to get antsy about writing screenplays and maybe starting an online streaming festival. Who knows? I may be b-a-a-a-c-k….

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(Photo Credit:  Ben Strothmann)

John Chatterton always wanted to be in the theater. When he was about 7, he was onstage in a school play. He tripped on his shoelace, and the audience laughed -- so he did it again. In later years, he migrated to writing, then producing. To make a living, he worked in newspaper production and then technical writing and programming. He finally made a break and started producing full-time Off-Off-Broadway with the Midtown International Theatre Festival (MITF), which ran for 18 years. He now lives in Florida, trying to avoid a tan and find a decent bagel.

G&E In Motion does not necessarily agree with the opinions of our guest bloggers. That would be boring and counterproductive. We have simply found the author’s thoughts to be interesting, intelligent, unique, insightful, and/or important. We may not agree on the words but we surely agree on their right to express them and proudly present this platform as a means to do so. 

ABSTRACT ACRYLIC PAINTING (or how to kill your inner critic)

I have a confession to make.  I was that kid.  The one who always got in trouble for coloring outside the lines.  The one who, when learning to sew, cut out the shag carpet along with the pattern pieces.  The one whose early embroidery pieces have a twinge of red from stabbing myself with the needle.  But I loved creating and so desperately wanted to be an artist, even when my clumsiness seemed to be a stark deterrent from that ever being possible.  And yet I persisted. 

My high school guidance counselor, Sister “I Know What is Best For You” Mary, reviewed my career aptitude test results.  My best classes were English, Latin, and typing.  It appeared as if my best career path would lead to being secretary to the Pope. 

I said to her, “I really want to be an artist.” 

Sister fingered her rosary beads, made the sign of the cross, and responded, “That isn’t a job.  Maybe you can be a nurse?”  

I tried to explain how I envisioned myself in a drafty loft, wearing a paint-smeared smock, with every size paintbrush soaking in water in muddied mason jars.  She sadly shook her head, saying that wasn’t my talent and handed me a catalogue of appropriate college choices.  And so welcome to the world my inner critic.  

I ended up going away to a college that was the perfect fit for me.  However, during those years, DIY and crafting were not a thing yet.  Longingly I would remember the feel of creating colliding with a voice trying to convince me that all those dreams were just that.  Never going to happen.  I concentrated on the communications world with the hope of landing a job in big bad New York City.  With student loans to contend with, I knew a more traditional career path would be necessary.  Art seemed frivolous, like a pastime, never anything I should seriously consider.

So, I threw myself into corporate America and worked for fabulous companies in the publishing and retail arenas.  I traveled the country training merchandising teams, setting up and running tradeshow booths, and coordinating public events.  I was able to express creativity within the confines of budgets, branding, and marketing messages. 

The inner critic was muted for many years as I would see quantitative results of success and I felt validated with constructive feedback.  However, I still felt that I was not doing anything for myself.  I would look back at old journals and half started projects and I knew that I needed to get back - but with a demanding career and then a baby - me time was just not an option. I had lost the urge to create for myself and landed in a creative block, which lasted for years.

My world turned upside down in 2011 when I found myself in the throes of a life-threatening medical situation.  I was unable to work, unable to drive; unable to do much of anything.  In between multiple surgeries, I realized I had the opportunity to use this “downtime” to my advantage.  I stepped away from reality TV, gathered up my stash of artist supplies, and scoured YouTube to explore different techniques.  I started off with scrapbooking and paper crafts. However, when I would try to replicate the examples I followed online, my finished piece would always fail my inspection.  The inner critic’s voice became louder.  I felt my work looked like a third grader’s interpretation of the artist’s work and I would crumple up pages and pages of work because it was “just not good enough.”  

As I continued to heal, I was finally able to do more things outside the home.  I started working part time, my son was getting ready to leave for the Marines, and I wanted to seize the gift of time.  I had avoided in-person classes, as it was so much easier to say you failed while hiding behind a computer then to hear you have failed in person.  But I decided to make the leap and set out on the road to reignite my creative juices.  

My first attempt was watercolor class.  I realized my skill was in taking colors and basically turning them into mud.  The feel of the water growing the color on the paper was intoxicating yet yielded no good results.  The inner critic nudged me to examine the work done by the instructor and other students and enabled me to cover my work up and say, “Well, I gave it a shot - and failed.”  I still had no understanding that the art of creating is the joy, the result is a by-product of expressing your joy.  

I moved on to pottery thinking that would be cool.  Unlike the iconic scene from Ghost, my wheel seemed out of control, clay flying everywhere, and the final piece looked like a Dali interpretation of a vase.  It was a very meditative process but again, it wasn’t my thing.

On the other side of the studio a different class was going on.  As my clay once again dissolved into a lump of watered-down dirt, I began watching the other class.  Per my instructor, this was a poured acrylic painting class and he almost sneered while saying it.  “I wouldn’t necessarily call that art, it’s too abstract for me, too unconventional,” he said.  I took it as a challenge and wandered over to the other group.  There were jars and bottles of paint, canvases all over and paint seemed to be flying everywhere.  I didn’t see any brushes or typical artist paraphernalia, but tubs of glorious paint literally poured over the canvas.  The students would tilt the canvas in various ways and the paint would sing across, creating unusual color combinations.  I watched as they combined the paint with latex conditioners found in any hardware store and the colors would morph and assume new depths and shapes.  

I had to learn more.  I took to this painting technique with a passion I had worried was lost.  I wandered the aisles of the art store, picking up supplies, and then watched other artists on YouTube to understand the process more.  Day and night I experimented with techniques and colors. I loved that abstract projects were totally open to interpretation.  The inner critic would be unable to compare my work against any others.  I might have used blues like the instructor, but the way I manipulated the canvas or elements led to a distinctively different result, but one I was happy with and proud of.

The freedom of manipulating the paint and canvas, with basically no rules outside of basic color theory, opened my soul up to an artistic expression that I took to and loved.

Eventually, I would lose my job and our only child shipped off to Marines boot camp.  I looked around at the piles of completed works and thought: Well, now what?  I had gifted pieces to family and friends and, although they were appreciative, I needed to put myself out there to truly see if my work was going anywhere.

I am not a technology wizard, but I was able to set up a basic website for my work in an attempt to get a wider audience.  I soon realized that just having your art out there was not enough - I needed to work it.  I learned Facebook marketing, Instagram for business, and other techniques.  To take myself seriously, I formed an LLC and began marketing myself.  The process was slow and steady but each day I would not only carve out time to paint, but I would also reach out to galleries, competitions, and refine my branding materials and website.  

My persistence paid off in ways I had only imagined possible.  An art gallery in NYC reached out to me and represented me for a year; my work was in their space and online and the response was exciting and humbling.  I continued to research opportunities to showcase my work and signed up for a local art/craft show.  I sat behind my rented tables and all my paintings were on mini easels.  I never felt so vulnerable.  Watching people pass by, hearing their comments, was both nerve-racking and educational.  I sold several pieces that day and received a commissioned project from one of the show attendees.  Slowly but surely, I started to push my inner critic back into the cave from whence it came.

The art of fluid acrylic painting is almost scientific in nature, but the result is emotional.  People would look at my work and see clouds, or a whale, or a wave hitting the beach.  There were no right or wrong observations and I loved that people would see things that were never intended but made perfect sense when pointed out.  

In continuing to grow my skill set in both business and art, I stumbled across gelatin plate printing, which is using acrylics in a different way, and I began to create one-of-a-kind paper.  I combined these papers into my poured paintings, which created new and exciting possibilities for me.

My mindset began to shift away from you’re not that good to heck, why not, apply for that show/contest, etc.  My work was featured in two local art exhibitions, in an AARP statewide art contest, and highlighted by companies when I would flag their product in posts.  My work also enabled me to be hired by the retail chain Michaels as an instructor; I loved sharing my techniques with students.

One of my proudest accomplishments was when I offered one of my pieces for sale, in digital format, early in the pandemic.  All proceeds went to purchasing disposable gloves for local front line workers and I was able to purchase almost 500 pairs to donate.  The dying of my inner critic gave birth to a renewed enthusiasm for my work and freed my mind to keep growing and attempting new avenues as both a businessperson and as an artist.

My artistic life is a bi-coastal one.  I live part time on Long Island and part time in Las Vegas.  The work I do is greatly influenced by the neon lights of the big city and the quiet beauty of the Southwest.  It took me years to realize that the very act of doing enables a piece to come alive.  Once I allowed myself to do what I really love, and to not harvest joy from other people’s opinions, my life changed dramatically.  It has freed me to create with new mediums, to manage my business, to learn pricing, marketing, and e-commerce.  I continue to receive commissions from clients and by eliminating fear of failure from my vocabulary, I have been able to create multiple streams of business.

There is always the “No thank you,” but instead of allowing that “No,” to be a personal affront, I use it to learn and step back with a critical eye. 

The inner critic is strong, but you are stronger.  Being an artist isn’t necessarily my original vision of tortured souls sweating over a canvas or freezing to death in a Parisian loft.  Being an artist is allowing your creative soul to soar, to reach beyond what you considered as possible.  Whether it is painting, writing, acting…. the inner critic survives in all these environments.  When you kill it, the opportunities are endless.  

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Patti Hodder has been involved in art since she was a little girl holding coloring book contests on her front porch.  During her college years she spent a year studying creative writing in London and visiting museums and historical sites for continued inspiration.  Her professional career was spent in the fashion industry working for major American designers, creating in-store shops and tradeshow environments.  Throughout this time Patti continued to hone her craft and several of her collages and pieces have been showcased in national consumer publications, art books, and virtual/in-person exhibitions. She has artwork currently housed at the Brooklyn Art Library in NYC.  She has served on design teams for The Buckle Boutique and The Inkpad (a NYC based rubber stamp store). A self-taught artist, she concentrates in the areas of fluid painting, mono printing, jewelry design and collages. www.pattihodderstudio.com

G&E In Motion does not necessarily agree with the opinions of our guest bloggers. That would be boring and counterproductive. We have simply found the author’s thoughts to be interesting, intelligent, unique, insightful, and/or important. We may not agree on the words but we surely agree on their right to express them and proudly present this platform as a means to do so.