Carrie Jay Studio

Dear Friends,

Have fun!

Oh, man, how can I have fun when these people are looking at me–just me–and judging me, and evaluating me, deciding whether or not they might call me back? Do they like me? Does my hair look fantastic today? Am I breathing? Oh, crap, what were my lines again?

Then there’s the post-audition hand-wringing: I wonder if they’ll pick me? How did I do? Did I give them what they wanted? Oh, man, I flubbed that one line, I wonder if they noticed. I was mostly in my body, but also in my head, could they tell? Crap, there were so many talented actors there–my friends! I wish them well, but, man I really want to get called back, too.

With all the angst floating around, how can we see clearly, relax, and have a good time?

Oh my gosh. We have to let the angst go. Don’t take it personally if you don’t get cast. Don’t try to read the director’s mind. Don’t try to please the director. Don’t try to give the director what you think they want. In fact, don’t make it about the director.

Do make it about your invisible scene partner. Do be in the moment. Do envision people you love in the (albeit empty) theater. Play to your significant other, your mentor, your mom, your child. Focus on what you do have control over. Skip the mind-reading and guesswork, and deliver your one-minute performance with passion.

Getting cast in a show is a bit like being asked out for a date. The director (suitor) chooses you because of who you are. They consider whether you and the show might be a good fit. Your best choice is to merely be yourself. Don’t pretend to be something you’re not in order to get chosen. If you have to change who you are, it won’t work. You can’t sustain pretending to be something you’re not. And you won’t be happy in the process.

Trust that you’re enough. You’re fantastic. You are interesting, complicated, emotional, fun, hilarious, beautiful, clever, witty, neurotic. But you don’t have to be angst-filled. That’s a choice.

Choose to simply be who you are. Either you’re a good fit in the eyes of the director for this production, or you’re not. It’s okay. It may not be the right show at the right time.

Or it just might be. Be yourself. Love yourself. Audition–share yourself.

And rock it out. Have fun!

 

Dear Friends,

Wow. Make today the day you start doing what you love.

Take action. Today. Do ONE thing that moves you toward realizing your dream.

Read a play. Choose a monologue. Schedule headshots. Sing. Exercise. Sign up for a dance class. Design a dress. Take a risk.

Call someone. Make an appointment. Look up resources online.

Find your WHOS. Connect with people who are doing what you want to be doing. Find out their story  of what they did to make their dreams come alive.

We found out this week my husband, Ben, has cancer.

It is staggering news. You’ve probably heard it before, but a crisis brings everything into perspective. Priorities become really clear.

Life may be short. It may be long. We don’t know.

What we do know, is there is no time like the present to start living life to its fullest.

Take a chance. You’re worth it. I’m sending my love and encouragement to you. Bring joy to the world by living your passion. Today.

 

Ah. Another show done. I’ve directed six shows in the past year:

Captivating Rhythms
How to Succeed…
BEES
Godspell
Black Comedy
Big

And a couple of staged readings.

I’m sad and I miss it when it’s over.

This week I’m recovering from the closing of Big, the Musical. I directed this wonderful, heartfelt, endearing, and rock-it-out musical with Dexter Community Players, at the Dexter Center for Performing Arts. It was BIG. It was funny. It was fresh, and fun, and a joy to create.

Can you relate to any parts of my post-show cyclothymia? I rise and fall, like the super-fun human roller coaster we created in Big for the carnival scene, up and down, between malaise and joy, exhaustion and energy, grief and relief.

By the way, being sad about a show being over is not exactly romantic, epitomized by a single, perfect glycerin tear on one’s cheek, smiling nostalgically at dressing room pix on Facebook. It’s more like vacillating between grouchy, happy, silly, elated, bawling, sleepwalking, skipping showers, squirt gun wars in the yard, cooking pots of chili, looking forward to getting to bed–upon rising, and holding your family close to fill your love cup and refill theirs every waking (and sleeping) moment. All in one day. Sometimes, in one hour.

On the one hand, I miss the stuffings out of every cast member and wonderful person who worked to help create Big.

On the other hand, I am sooooo enjoying being with my family. And chilling. And staying in pj’s all day.

Things that help:

• date nights with Ben
• playing chase and pillow fights with Logan and Paige
• singing songs from Big, especially with Logan and Paige, kind of all day long
• keeping caught up with dishes (it’s meditative, and I hum the songs from Big)
• daydreaming about my next project(s)
• announcing Guys and Dolls as the Fall show I am directing (catch us at Chelsea High, November 15-17)
• word and number puzzles
• watching movies
• skipping Jazzercise
• teaching private students
• visiting everyone on Facebook
• planning a DVD party to watch the show with the cast, crew, team and Big families
• catching up on Glee, although I still am having trouble wrapping my mind around Cory Monteith’s death
• scheduling lunch with friends
• talking on the phone to my mom for more than five minutes at a time
• getting ready for our trip to RE (Rethinking Everything Conference — we are presenting for the first time!)

Things that don’t help very much:

• feeling like I ought to be productive every minute (Wow, directing takes–and gives!–an incredible amount of energy. It’s challenging to dial back to a lower idle.)
• trying to clean and organize the whole house ASAP (um, it took weeks and months to get to this state; it’s going to take a while to restore it to sanity)
• getting ready for a garage sale (yeah, that’s a whole production unto itself…maybe I’ll shelf that ’til September)

I cried, pretty hard, last Sunday, at our last show of Big. My beautiful red roses are drooping and drying. The signed picture from the cast is hanging prominently on my frig. My show t-shirt is in the wash, because I wore it for several days in a row upon receiving it. I wish I had an audio recording of our cast, to hear everyone’s beautiful voices on all of the songs, over and over.

I wouldn’t trade the sadness for anything, though. Because  it’s a by-product of having loved wholly and openly and shared my entire self in creating something really special, really memorable, really (forgive me) BIG. Just like everyone who helped create BIG. We all shared ourselves, took risks, committed one hundred percent, and are more connected, more whole, more filled with joyful memories, than before. We’ve changed since three months ago, when we embarked on this journey to create a really cool show together. We’ve discovered ourselves, each other, how to play HARD, and live and love and laugh a little (maybe a lot) better, a little (again, maybe a lot) more freely.

I can’t wait to do it again. xoxoxoxoxo

In the meantime, I’m breathing, relaxing, remembering, playing, reading, writing, kissing, singing, and being.

How about you?

Go, go, go.

Don’t hide your light under a bushel, right?

Every audition is a performance opportunity.

We know the advice: “You gotta put yourself out there.” “If at first you don’t succeed….” “Keep on keepin’ on.” We’ve heard this stuff so many times, it’s become cliche.

So why is it so dang hard to put ourselves out there time after time?

Well, I had an epiphany this year. I was at my own general audition at the Purple Rose. For those who don’t know, general auditions are held annually by professional theatres, in order to be considered for the following season’s shows. Typically you’re asked to bring one or two monologues, and sometimes 16 bars of a song if the theatre will be producing a musical.

So, in my prep for Purple Rose, I chose my monologue (always comedic for them). For weeks I muttered it in the car, the shower, washing dishes. The day of the audition, I stretched. I sang. I used my studio as my own giant private dressing room (fun). Between the day I signed up and the day I auditioned, I asked myself more than once: “Should I stay or should I go?”

Argh. What is the big deal? You just GO, I told myself. “Quit pushing me around,” I retorted. Yet, I knew the “just go” voice was aligned with my purpose for existence: to inspire others to do and be their best. How can I ask others to put themselves out there, if I don’t do the same? I am just as human and afraid and vulnerable. So, I went to inspire others to face their fears and have courage and take risks and embrace the possibility of success and heck, even redefine success as just showing up.

So I showed up. Gladly. Willingly. Excitedly. Because once I gave myself permission to cancel, I knew deep in my bones, in my heart, in my gut: I want to be here more than anything or anywhere in the world.

In the lobby, I stretched, lightly chatted with old friends, jumped some jacks, sat, breathed, muttered, breathed some more, and chilled. I was greeted by a couple of Purple Rose friends who knew some of my students had come in (I AM SO PROUD OF YOU GUYS!). I felt proud of my students, and of myself, and of all of the people who showed up. 

A firefighter friend of mine who is also a strong actor, asked on Facebook that day, why can he face burning buildings every day without flinching, but quake for a full minute while delivering his monologue for Guy? I hear ya, Friend.

But this year it was different for me. This year, I was Zen. This year, I felt joyful, present, excited, calm, glad, proud, brave, and strong. And Funny. After my brief interview with Guy (why’s it so dang hard to talk about yourself, right?), I gave myself a brand new, fully realized moment before. I looked around the room, at Guy, at the other auditors (resident artists at the Rose), at the seats, at the stage, and I thought, this is exactly where I want to be right now. I love it right here, on this stage, performing for people who care, for people who want me to succeed, for people who taught me to breathe and love and play. I want to perform on the Purple Rose stage, and here I am. Right now. 

I looked at a ceiling light, pictured my invisible scene partner, and started my monologue. I begged. I implored. I fought. I cajoled. I reasoned. I relaxed. I breathed. And I had so much fun.

I was connected with my audience of four. I breathed when they laughed. I relished my moments onstage at Purple Rose. I nailed it.

I learned something that day. About myself, and about inspiring you to be your best. By all means, go. But don’t just go because I told you to, or because you pushed yourself to do it, or because you read some great advice in an auditioning book. Go because you love it. Go because there is no place else you’d rather be. Go because you can’t not go. You have to do this because you are fully alive when you do.

So, perform for your one glorious minute on the stage you want to be on. If you don’t go, you’ll never get on that stage. If you do go, you’ll have lived and loved one memorable minute doing exactly what you love.

And chances are very good, that if you keep going, keep showing up, you’re gonna get a lot more minutes and hours and days and weeks right where you want them: onstage, bearing your soul for all. And enjoying every second of it.

Shhh…it’s a secret. Directors are vulnerable, too.

At first glance, it may look like we have all the power. After all, we are sitting on the other side of the table. It appears we are judging actors. We may seem imposing, professional yet reserved, sitting back in the dark deciding who is good enough to be in our next play.

In rehearsals, directors take notes and tell actors what to do, right? We have all the answers. Actors are merely pawns we control to fulfill our brilliant, predetermined vision. We are there to criticize, demand, cajole, and make the actors do it right. Right?

SCREEEECH of brakes.

Nope. Wrong.

Enter: reality…

Directors are equally vulnerable. When I direct, I participate in warm-up games, wear my hair down and wild, go barefoot, and play hard with the actors.

I, too, need to be in a creative, open, authentic space in order to create art with actors and designers. The result is something cool, new, fresh, inviting.

And I do it by feel.

Creating art is not strictly rational. Sure, there are certain specific aspects…stand on that box, turn on a dime, grab his shirt, etc. The overall nuance, however, is that I know when it feels good. I know when it clicks. I know when I resonate with what is happening in rehearsal.

And I know these things by being open. Present. Connected.

Guy Sanville, Artistic Director at the Purple Rose Theatre Co. in Chelsea, defines “talent” as the ability to express oneself in abstract form. Directing, for me, takes on the challenge and joy of expressing myself via the shows I direct. My raw material is actors, the script, the setting. The thing is, actors are not clay. They are living, breathing, feeling human beings. And there is my joy: collecting, harnessing, encouraging, synergizing the voices, hearts, bodies, authentic selves into a unique creation.

As a director, I share the experience with the actors of allowing my heart and soul and self to be revealed. It is joy to be known. It is a gift to deeply connect, openly share and creatively join with actors and designers to successfully express ourselves together in abstract form.

This weekend, I invited the Godspell cast and band members to write a note to each other sharing something they love about the other person. I was touched that some included me in the game. Here are a couple of particularly memorable, loving remarks I received:

“Your crazy ideas always seem to work!”

“You have inspired me to direct some day.”

“I have learned so much from you not just as an actor and singer, but as a person.”

Okay, wow. Thank you for allowing me to continue to fulfill my life’s purpose: to inspire others to do and be their best. Because I am at my best when you are at your best.

Ain’t that a delicious recipe for a success. And not just onstage; in Life. We all win. Together.

Come see Godspell at Jackson Lumen Christi Catholic High School this week:

Thursday, Friday, Saturday

March 21, 22, 23

7 p.m. curtain

Dear Friends,

Opposites attract. What’s up with that?

What’s down with that?

Everything that is true in a scene, the opposite is also true. In Black Comedy, the play I am directing at Chelsea High School for MIFA One Act competition, the stern colonel is blustery, loud, and intimidating. He is also shy, timid and terrified of losing his daughter to a lunatic.

We could play the colonel as a stereotypical despot. Or we could explore his softer side and understand where he’s coming from. What motivates his intimidating manner? He’s scared. Is he a bully? Yes. Is he a pussycat? Yes. We embrace both sides.

How do we make these discoveries in rehearsal? Try doing the exact opposite of the obvious. The actor had been shouting every line. I asked him to whisper every line. We were all dying on the floor laughing. The colonel is both men.

I ask actors to stop thinking, be present, and see what happens. This week we embodied animals as part of character exploration. “Be the animal that is most like you!” We had cats, dogs, birds, fish and a human. Then, “Be the animal that is least like you!” We had snakes, dogs, a flamingo and a peacock.

Here’s the secret I learned doing this exercise as a student myself in a recent Purple Rose class: both animals are you.

What happens when we embrace what we believe is pretty much ourselves, as well as what we think is the direct opposite of who we are? Well, then we have dimension. Then we are capable of anything. Then we are free to explore, accept and know ourselves and each other more deeply.

What happens when we open ourselves to opposites in the creation of a play? It’s the actors’ job to explore and expose our personal and shared strengths and vulnerabilities. Opposites attract us to un-mined depths of ourselves and each other. Opposites lead us to fresh connections. Opposites reveal unexpected discoveries about our own very human nature. What happens when we explore opposites?

The result is a delicious blend of unpredictable, hilarious behavior.

Come and see the Black Comedy  to experience what I’m talking about! Friday, February 1 at 7 p.m. at CHS. One public performance only! $5 at the door, general admission. Be sure to catch this one! You may leave looking at the world and each other and even yourself slightly differently.

Dear Friends,

Acting is behaving truthfully under imaginary circumstances.

Read more about what I mean in my newest blog post for Chelsea High School Theatre Guild.

Find out what we are doing, and what we’re not doing, in putting together How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying at CHS.

Performance dates November 16-18. Tickets now on sale at Chelsea Pharmacy, reserved seating.

I can’t wait to share the show with you!

Dear Friends,

Hello! We are three weeks away from our performances of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying I am directing and co-producing at Chelsea High School!

Our success has come from our joyful rehearsal process. We focus on creating one moment at a time. I have been very intentional from the beginning about building an ensemble who count on and trust each other.

Read about the power of creative play I shared on my newest blog for the Chelsea High School Theater Guild.

See you November 16-18 at CHS! Tickets now on sale at Chelsea Pharmacy. Seating is reserved, so buy your tickets now!

 

Dear Friends,

YES! Rehearsals are exciting, energizing, exhilarating for How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying! I am in my element, fulfilling my life’s purpose to inspire others to do and be their best.

For a sneak peek into our creative, productive, joy-filled process, I invite you to read my recent blog posts from Chelsea Theater Guild website:

How to Succeed in Getting How to Succeed…Underway!

Well, It’s Been a Wonderful Week

Loving the Process

YES! I Love It Here

Come and see the show. Tickets are now on sale at the Chelsea Pharmacy. Reserved seating. November 16-18 at CHS.

I can’t wait to share with you what we’re cooking.

Hail Chelsea High
Oh CHS
We’re loyal and we’re true
Our alma mater we do sing
For our dear old gold and blue.

Oh we are proud of what we are
And hold our banners high
We always will remember our years
At dear old Chelsea High.

Does anybody else remember Chelsea High School’s alma mater? I believe it was composed by choir teacher Tammy Barbret. We learned it in three-part harmony in our all-girls singing group, The Contemporaries, and sang it at graduations, concerts and other school events.

I am feeling nostalgic right now. I just found out exciting news that I will be directing the Fall musical at Chelsea High School annually, beginning this year.

I’m still trying to wrap my mind around this huge gift. To have the opportunity to give back to the community where I grew up and got my start in theatre is unbelievable.

And yet, at the same time, it feels like my destiny. To come full circle, return to my roots, and provide students with a fresh, unique, empowering experience in theatre feels “right” — completely aligned with my purpose in the Universe.

In case you haven’t heard me share this a hundred times before, my purpose for existence is to inspire others to do and be their best. A flower-adorned reminder resides on my frig. It is my guide for every choice I make, everything I do. “Does this [fill in the blank] opportunity fulfill my life’s purpose?” I ask with every potential venture.

Directing at Chelsea High is a no-brainer: the answer is a resounding YES AND!

I had lovely theatre mentors while at CHS: Bill Coelius, Tammy Barbret, and June Warren are right at the top. There was a Fall play, which was part of the sixth hour drama class; none of us in The Contemporaries could participate, as our singing group met the same hour. This left the Spring musical, for which most of us tried out and participated. Many of us also did Winter forensics (storytelling, dramatic interp, dramatic duo, comedic interp, extemp, etc.).

I vividly remember our experiences especially in the musicals. They are memories that literally last a lifetime. To be able to create with current students such memories is an honor and a joy.

I have also recently learned so much from the Dexter High Drama Club. Dexter teacher Erin Palmer has been instrumental in the past five years in building a thriving program, involving students and parents for a super active and fun group. I wished one year ago, upon moving to Dexter, and leading workshops with the Dexter drama students, that I could have had such extensive experiences with the high level of organization and huge numbers of students involved in drama.

Now I have the chance to call on the wisdom and foundation built by my own Chelsea High mentors, bring in ideas from a current successful local drama group with extensive activities, and infuse the entire adventure with my personal touch: enthusiasm, passion, vibrancy, motivation, inspiration, commitment, mentoring and bringing out the very best in every person involved.

Part of this process involves modeling for the students — as I model for my own children, private students and others — living out my passions, knowing and fulfilling my life’s purpose, and being instrumental in making other people’s dreams come true. How exquisite for each of us to become self-actualized, have fun, discover what we are individually and collectively capable of, to explore, play, let down our guard, connect, be vulnerable and known and courageous and encouraging of each other. Sounds like a recipe for success. Sounds like a recipe for Life.

We’ll be kicking off this venture with a rockin’ musical this Fall, that is sure to be a success: highlighting each person’s talents, collaborating, creating, connecting, and having fun, fun, fun.

YES AND is our motto. I take in what you say, I validate it, I add to it. We create together.

YES I’m directing the musical. YES I’m in the process of choosing the show (stay tuned for that news!). YES I am honored and thrilled to give back to Chelsea High AND create something new, fresh, inspiring and wonderful.

(Oh, AND I am currently accepting new students. My hours in rehearsal will certainly still allow plenty of time for private coaching. Call me!)

AND, no wonder I feel like shopping for new school clothes. The beginning of the year is near, and I am so excited. I can’t wait to share all of it with you.