In the Age of the Algorithm more and more of our waking lives are quietly being orchestrated by machine learning that seeks above all else to clear a path of least resistance between where each day begins and where it's most likely to end.
Given this new paradigm, we would all be wise to make a conscious effort to introduce a little more discomfort into our daily lives.
What happens when you stray a ways away from your comfort zone?
If you're like most of us, you may experience some anxiety at first because if, for example, you're attempting to learn a skill that doesn't come naturally or working on a project way outside of your usual milieu, you might worry about... well, about falling flat on your face and the shame that surely would follow.
But if you find a moment to pause and breathe chances are you may consider the possibility that since this isn't really your area of expertise, the world at large very likely isn't expecting much of anything from you.
The freedom that can fill us suddenly when we recognize we're doing something that no one (no person/no algorithm) would ever expect us to do at all, let alone do well, is like no other.
Several years ago, at a Producers Guild Conference, I had the opportunity to sit at a small round table with David Eick, Executive Producer of the brilliant television series, Battlestar Galactica. And I asked him how it happened to be that a TV show was able to weave in so much truly profound and deep thinking on the subject of what it means to be human. His answer surprised me.
"Simple," he offered without skipping a beat. "We were on the SyFy Channel. No one was paying attention. So we did whatever we liked."
When you try something new or something you're not even sure you have the ability to do or you try something on a whim without even knowing for certain why it is you want to attempt this... your uncertainty, your discomfort, the endless horizon of question marks you face can often deliver gifts you had no idea were a thing.
Recent Off-Path Experiences of Mine
That's one reason why I try to take a workshop or a class at least once a year that will encourage me to get out of my comfort zone. Just before the pandemic I took a glass blowing class at Brooklyn Glass and discovered pretty quickly that 2,000-degree flames scare the hell out of me and make it very difficult for my creative juices to flow.
Every since I saw her astonishing performance in The Fighter, I've kind of been in awe of Melissa Leo so when I heard that a film festival for which I sometimes serve as a juror was offering a 3-session Zoom acting workshop taught by Leo with a class size of 12, I grabbed my credit card and signed up. What a wonderful little respite in the midst of the first year of the pandemic this was. Leo proved to be every bit as intense, intelligent, funny and insightful as you'd expect and despite her frustration (and ours to a lesser extent) with the idea of acting on Zoom, I learned quite a bit. And I enjoyed meeting some wonderful actors from all over the world.
Closer to home, I've also had the pleasure of signing up as a student in writing workshops taught by Suze Allen, Tammy Ryan and Gary Garrison, among others. In fact, the 10-min play workshop that Gary and I co-taught last year was really more like Gary teaching and me acting as noisiest most inquisitive student, digging for more and more of his wisdom. With both Tammy and Suze I can say that it's really wonderfully eye-opening to take a writing workshop from someone who approaches the subject of writing in a completely different way than I do. I think my preference as a teacher is to get under the hood and investigate the mechanics of whatever someone is working on whereas both Tammy and Suze have a natural ability to poke and prod and ultimately expand the writer's imagination of what's possible.
The Best Workshops Include a Variety of Styles and Levels of Experience Among Participants
When I'm teaching I'm always delighted when the assembled participants bring to the table a rich and varied tapestry of artistic experience. I'm fond of saying that the best playwrights usually started out as actors. And I guess I feel this way because in my thinking, so much of what makes great playwrights great is a sharp ear for the details of how human beings negotiate their way through life largely by the things they choose to say and how they express them.
I love when actors show up in my writing workshops. And, generally speaking, I love anyone who is inclined to approach their art through trial and error. We learn so much by trying it one way, scrapping that and then moving on to another. It really does make a difference whether you just sit quietly to imagine various possible approaches or instead you attempt them with your voice and a roomful of people to listen and react.
At last December's Advanced Monologue Workshop, one of my favorite actors decided to join us and work some of the fundamentals of strong monologue writing. Lisa Stathoplos is an artist of great depth and nuance. And if you're not familiar with her acting, she has published the first of two memoirs and it's pretty damn good. Take a look here.
The monologue Lisa wrote in class is so wonderful and her performance of it so riveting, that I wanted to share it with you here because it really is a fine example of everything that monologue can do in terms of pulling the curtain back to reveal a character we might otherwise have overlooked.
Take a few minutes to watch, What? A Friend We Have in Jesus?!
And if you haven't done so already, you really ought to subscribe to the Hear Me Out YouTube Channel, where more than 150 examples of compelling theatre constructed of just one person speaking can be explored and enjoyed. (including a handful written and/or performed by Yours Truly).