In this rehearsal process, we first start with…SOUND. Of course, communicators must be heard, so sound matters. The mic matters, how we use the mic matters, how we articulate matters, our volume and tone matter. But before we find ourselves on the stage or in a heated conversation, we must rehearse. A rehearsal technique that bakes one layer of life into our communication is to focus on the sound of the words and allow for that sound to inform our performance. In my early twenties, I was lucky enough to study at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art with…Read on.

On January 1, 2023, this post appeared. That morning, one year ago, as I contemplated the forthcoming year, I announced what I wanted. And it surprised me. I’d asked this question of myself quite a few times since discovering the yellowed cardboard with my mother’s particular penmanship after her death. Nothing I’d announced had hit just right. Mostly, I answered with things I thought I should want, or things that my inner Facebook-Ad-Life-Coach thought I should want: “To work with famous clients who are doing good in the world, like Michelle Obama, Greta Thunberg, Doctor’s Without Borders, Kamala Harris, and Malala Yousafzai.” It sounded great, to reach high as I entered the Empty Nest years. But it didn’t feel great. It felt superficial. I’m already working with people and organizations who expertly, thoughtfully, passionately, doggedly, make positive change for us all. I am constantly amazed, challenged, awakened, and thrilled by their purpose, their words, their vital work in the world. I am honored to work with them. I am grateful. It is more than enough. So, on the first day of 2023 the surprising thing I found myself announcing, out-loud, to the quiet morning kitchen was::…Read on.

GLENDOWER:

“I can call spirits from the vasty deep.”

HOTSPUR:

“Why, so can I, or so can any man;

But will they come when you do call for them?”

--William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part I—

Will they? Will they come when we do call for them? Will they be swayed by our words?  Will they change their minds?  Will they take action? Will they? What we say is important.  But how we say it determines its impact. How can we speak so that others will, not only listen, but will be swayed, moved, changed, by our words? My work with clients draws from the world of performance where artists have developed techniques that ground us in a clear structure, so that our work is free, present, agile, fluid, unexpected, human.  It sways.  Like a tree, deeply rooted, so that the branches are free to play with the wind, the birds, the buds, the storms, and seasons. We start by… Read on.

Joan Goldsmith, a dear friend, co-author, and colleague of my father’s, recently found a typed copy of this essay while cleaning out her files. Dad’s words here compel us to make the connection between Leadership and Art. The essay was not published when he wrote it in 2002, but was included in the book, The Essential Bennis, followed by comments from Glenn Close. Dad loved the theater and I was lucky enough to benefit from his enthusiasm—we saw A Chorus Line on Broadway and Cats on the West End. His favorite author was Shakespeare of whom he said, “Every time I read Shakespeare, he’s learned something new!” He once said that Falstaff (“a fat, vain, and boastful knight, he spends most of his time drinking at the Boar's Head Inn with petty criminals, living on stolen or borrowed money”) was the first executive coach, sent by King Henry IV to prepare his son for the throne. Love that. Dad always connected Leadership and theater…and so do I. He wrote an article in Bloomberg called, Acting the Part of Leader and wrote the introduction to the book, Leadership Presence by Kathy Lubar and Belle Halpern, both performers who started the Ariel Group. I have to thank my father for so eloquently making the case for the work I do—using the skills and techniques of the theater to help people communicate as their full selves in the world. Here, he lays it all out for us. Enjoy…Read on.

Last week we talked about letting the feel and sound of language guide us into meaning. We endeavored to revel in the visceral impact of language, specifically, the rough and raw words in the English language that come down from Old English or Anglo-Saxon, a language with no rhyme or reason. Silent Gs. H’s in odd places. Unlike Latin and the Romance Languages which sprung from its mathematical logic, Anglo-Saxon makes no sense in an intellectual way, but touches us with it’s chaos of guttural and evocative sounds. It’s easy to spot these words. They are unwieldy, often have mysterious spellings (“thought,” “phlegm,” “ghost”), and evoke emotions and images. Merriam Webster describes the Anglo-Saxon language as: “brief, forceful, and meaningful in expression; full of vigor, substance, or meaning; terse; forcible.” This week, we talk about crafting our own talks and presentations while inviting in…Read on.

Many years ago I studied Shakespeare at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art with a wise teacher, David Perry. My partner and I brought in the scene from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, where Titania and Oberon, the Queen and King of the Fairies, confront one another. We decided to play the scene with a sense of flirtation and provocation. I remember sprawling on a love seat backwards, legs in the air, while I fed myself long strands of red licorice. David watched the scene patiently. When we were done, he asked: “What makes you think Oberon and Titania …Read on.

This morning I took my dog on a walk in the woods. A place I’d never been. At some point I realized I was lost. I went around a bend, hoping to see a familiar landmark, but found a whole new path. I knew exactly what I needed to do next: panic. My heart started racing. My voice went up an octave, “It’s OK, Harpo, we’ll make it home…” My eyes darted here and there. I started running through the wet, tick-infested poison ivy. Rounding the corner, I came across a big log to sit on with a sign reading, “Breathe. Listen.” I stopped. Looked around for the wood nymph, Puck, playing games with me. Then, I laughed and followed Puck’s wise advice. I sat down. I took a deep, fresh breath. I listened. I heard the wind. A bird. And then soft voices. And a car. Aha! That way!

This is exactly what I say to clients when they get lost on stage.

Breathe. Listen. The way home will become apparent.

This is what I practice with my clients:…Read on.

Anyone here fallen asleep during a production of Hamlet? I may have…Certainly the text is pretty extraordinary. So why might someone be bored or not able to connect to this most human drama? Most likely be cause the story is only told verbally and not inhabited physically. There is no coherence between the words, the expression, the body, and the intention. And haven’t we all experienced the strange pit in our stomachs when someone’s words do not match their expression? Maybe they tell us that everything is “just fine,” while tears pour down their cheeks. Or that they are not angry, though their jaws are clenched tight. Or that they’re listening while scanning social media. When our physical communication is incongruent with our words, the other, the audience, the group, feels that tension. They hear one message and receive another.

Most of the time we communicate without words at all—just gestures, expressions, sighs…read on for ways to find congruence…

Have you ever given a talk, told a story, or had the same conversation one too many times? Although I will always push people to do Extreme Preparation, there are certainly situations when the content is so old it might become stale. In these moments, we can easily disconnect from our audience or partner or team and just, “phone it in” as we say in the theater. Meaning, we turn on the inner tape recorder and get back into bed mentally.

What are the skills we practice to keep communication alive? We trick ourselves into being present by changing things up, adding an element of abandon and play, welcoming disaster, moving to a new place physically, using a new intention, and, as always, reveling in the unknown that every person and audience brings.

This week, keep communication fresh by inviting in the unknown!

Here are my favorite examples of keeping it fresh! Read on…