Built for the Ensemble
“Thank you, ten,” the room answers. Break time during rehearsals — time for refilling water bottles, stretching, and conversation. A group of recent BFA and conservatory grads made themselves comfortable in the corner of the studio.
It was one of my first professional shows and I was the expected combination of eager and shy. Among the chatter, one of these young artists disdainfully observed, “theatre school only prepares you to be a good ensemble member.” Others quickly chimed in with their agreement and I see the room come to this conclusion:
theatre school doesn’t teach you to be an artist.
They listed what it did teach them: what to wear in a cattle call audition, how to set up a self-tape studio at home, who to get your headshots done by, the best measurements and how much to weigh (actors often submit their measurement card along with audition tapes), how to use make-up to minimize less-than-ideal features (often ethnic signifiers), and a confident and cool personality to use for auditioning…
And they graduated with a great tech set up, natural-but-glamorous headshots, and little idea what makes them worth putting on stage.
There is nothing small about ensemble work. It’s necessary to teach the skills needed to support a story. But even if your character isn’t named in the program…you should still have one.
This group’s complaint was a recognition of their collective need to rebuild identity after attending elite schools. Rather than a program that provides a foundation to stand on, they were left asking, should I even bother? It seemed the more expensive the training, the higher the imposter syndrome.
I quietly listened. My education was fully in Christian schools. Classmates often bemoaned missing out on top-recognized schools, networking with secular contacts active in the field, or not living near a big city for auditions. Wondering, who would want to cast someone with [Christ-centered cornfield school] on their resume?
We also “missed out” on teachers who build you up by tearing you down and grade you as the world does.
There are factors performers must be made aware of, but we cannot be rooted in them.
Quality of life aside, performers bring their fears onstage. Casting submissions are filled with actors desperate to be loved and thus offer a limited capacity to serve a story, an audience, or a director’s vision.
Tim Keller wrote, “If our identity is in our work, rather than Christ, success will go to our heads, and failure will go to our hearts.”
Who can consistently create without a clear head and open heart?
Finally out in the real world, I was assured I wasn’t as behind as I was led to believe. My hard skills were fine; I still made it in the room. And instead of wondering if I belong there, its a gift to enjoy.
I believe I’m a better artist for it, and I’m certainly having more fun.
