Acting & Performance

Eva Price tackles solo theatre from a commercial producer’s perspective, encountering all the classic challenges, and new ones that arise because of the art form. 

Michael Milligan explores the bare minimum needed to make solo theatre, as well as the grassroots nature of it, and what can happen when you collaborate with people who are deeply passionate, though perhaps not artists.

Director Seth Barrish talks about the process of directing a solo show.

Deb Margolin explores what it is to teach solo theatre, and the difference between an act of personal revelation and an act of performance.

Matt Hoverman outlines the process of creating a solo show in a series of letters with an aspiring solo performer.

Scott Wesley Slavin kicks off our week on solo theatre, exploring vulnerability, therapy, one-to-one relationships, and defiance. He asks, “What is solo theatre? What could it be?”

Avant-garde performer and director Paul Zimet offers a brief overview of his role in Joseph Chaikin’s Open Theater and his forty-year history with Talking Band.

Director Lavina Jadhwani ask three questions, addressing how color-conscious casting impacts the story being told.

Shakespearean Actor Samuel Taylor shares his insight on how to make Shakespeare theatre more attractive to a contemporary and millennial audience.

I was often cast in small roles or the chorus. I learned to watch and listen. Creating a point of view about everything that happens onstage—even when I didn’t have a single line—was invaluable experience. I could make up whatever backstory I wanted. The many pages and youths I played didn’t have strict binary restrictions, so in my heart I was the saucy kitchen wench.

1.) Never wait for permission to practice your art. You cannot wait to get a job to be an artist. 2.) Study your art. Never stop studying. 3.) Find a spiritual practice that works for you.

I offered to cut "Henry IV, Part One" down to ninety minutes, schedule two rehearsals and one performance, and find a part for anyone who wanted to participate. Eighteen actors jumped on board, and I was determined to not direct them in this play.

Truthfully, as a Los Angeles-based theater artist working almost entirely under the 99-seat agreement, at a certain point I just gave up on earning my Equity card, and the Stage Directors and Choreographers Society (SDC) wasn’t popping up on my radar. While I may not currently carry a union card in my wallet, I do take great pride in how I am following in my grandfather’s footsteps. We both pursued our passion to craft and share stories, and simultaneously held careers working in the arts to pay the bills.

I could certainly choose not to work at a lot of small theaters. I could also try and negotiate higher rates. I have done both. But I like to work with good theater artists. It’s hard to say no to a good director or to a good script. As a Los Angeles theater artist, it is almost impossible to not work in 99-seat theater.

The kind of open, honest, rough-and-tumble way that we often approach our art-making seems to be inhibited, or even actively stifled, when it comes to addressing larger issues in the way we work and the ways we are part of the fabric of the country. Much of the time, it seems like we’re all living in a spirit of fear, instantly defensive whenever anyone questions the current status quo. And this despite the fact that, at least in principle, everyone seems to agree the status quo is far from ideal.

One of the stereotypes about the post-Grotowski Polish ensemble theaters is that their processes are rigidly closed and their rehearsal rooms are treated like devotional spaces. There is often a way through a more closed door, but you may have to put on your sweatpants.