I remember reading something by the great director, Peter Brook, warning that adding anything literal to a stage set, like running water or a gas stove, creates an expectation of reality that is fundamentally at odds with the magic of theater. Theatre demands a leap of faith. He said that when we have running water on stage, a pencil can no longer become a rocket. It can only be a pencil. This photo shows the set from Peter Brook’s production of Battlefield at ACT. Notice that the people, the actors, create the meaning of the abstract space; their actions make the space a place. It can be a battlefield, a temple, or a kitchen. The same is true for any human interaction. When people connect, no matter if it’s on a stage, in a boardroom, or…Read on.

“Never work with animals or children.” —W.C. Fields. Last week we talked about focusing our attention on the speaker while sharing the stage. Wise performers have always known that they will easily be upstaged by both children and animals. Why? Because children and animals do not know that they are performing. They are simply being. And that simple state—guileless, egoless, effortless and unexpected—is riveting. How can we be the cat? How can we have that ease and presence? Read on…

There’s an old joke about community theater. Imagine a group of young, scrubbed, overall-clad youngsters in a barn. One projects loudly, “We’ve got a barn! Let’s put on a show!” The others ad lib with big smiles, “Sure thing!” “I can build the sets with this old scrap wood!” “We can use this sheet for a backdrop!” “I can sew these old rags into costumes!” Then, all at once, the whole group stops talking, orients towards a kid standing on a hay bale, settles into varied comfortable but affected positions, and gazes expectantly. The kid on the hay bale launches into a monologue and/or song. This stereotypical trope from amateur theater is easy to satirize (Christopher Guest’s Waiting for Guffman does this with love). And I am not recommending that anyone do this on stage, exactly…but the truth is that the audience …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.

Some times I love to hear just the voice, the simplest voice, tell a story. No embellishment so that my mind can create castles out of words. Sometimes I love a voice to play characters. Lynn Redgrave reading Cornelia Funke’s Inkheart is extraordinary. And on stage, when I can see the whole person, I love to see the story—not acted out, exactly, but “shown.” Miranda Hope told her story at our Charlottesville TEDx Open Mic and we asked her. ..Read on

“The charitable say in effect, 'I seem to have more than I need and you seem to have less than you need. I would like to share my excess with you.' Fine, if my excess is tangible, money or goods, and fine if not, for I learned that to be charitable with gestures and words can bring enormous joy and repair injured feelings.” ― Maya Angelou, “Letter to My Daughter” In this darkest time of the year, there is warmth, light, and loss. In the last two weeks, I have been witness to all of these. Many among us need to be held just now—those in crisis and those who surround them: the caretakers, the witnesses, the family, the community. When one person is in crisis, we are all in crisis and are called upon to support one another, to communicate care through act and word. A friend told me the story of a bundled and starlit holiday evening walk cut short when a car slid off of the road and into a tree. My friend slipped her shaking fingers out of her gloves to dial 911. The next day, my friend called her sister and cried and cried. Her sister, a nurse, knew what to do: listen and support. She said, “this is a Code Lavender.” Code Lavender comes out of the Cleveland Clinic to support their staff and “provides…Read on.

What would happen if we announced what we wanted? Out loud. Would the sky fall down? Would we stun people? Would we stun ourselves? Would relationships change? Would our lives move in a different direction? Why are we so reluctant to simply say what we want? Do we even know what we want? Announcing is not demanding or even asking, it’s just putting our wants into words. A statement. And yet…My mother was the kind of person who would stop on the highway to pick up garbage, who eschewed milk in plastic bottles, and re-used wrapping paper year after year. She also saved all of those pieces of cardboard the dry-cleaners used in men’s shirts in the 70s. Months after she died, I found myself in a room stacked with 61 boxes sent from her house in Cleveland. Boxes filled with photos, postcards, birth certificates, old passports. And one piece of dry-cleaner cardboard with her distinctive handwriting and the words…Read on.

Watching a video of a stage play I did years ago, I was stunned to notice that I sounded like Minnie Mouse. On helium. I know this about myself, that I speed up, but to see the proof was a great reminder that one of my consistent communication challenges (aside from my handwriting!), is that I gallop ahead leaving my audience behind. So many things can contribute to speaking quickly—anxiety, feeling like the content is boring, being type-A, going on auto-pilot. The end result is the same: we are not present, we are not connected to the other/audience, and we miss the opportunity to connect, lead, have impact, move others to action, change ideas, attitudes, and, importantly, to be moved, to be impacted and influenced, to learn from others and our audience. Remember, the best talks and presentations are relational. Instead of telling my clients to “slow down,” I ask them to…Read on.

The work is done. Or not done. It makes no difference. Let it be. Nothing new can be truly integrated 24 hours before an event. In fact, adding, changing, editing in the last 24 hours usually leads to anxiety and “trying to remember” rather than connecting, enjoying, playing. This is time to take care of ourselves. And let the content rest. DAY BEFORE: 1) Sneak into the space and run our talk2) Find the tech folks and make friends with them—tech always goes wrong and they have our backs. 3) Where is the light? Find the light…Read on.

“I know you bought airplane tickets, got a sitter, and booked a hotel, but DO NOT COME. It sucks. I’m awful. Really. It’s embarrassing. My performance is forced and boring and lifeless. I know it started off great, but trust me, it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done.” My family and dear friends have all received that call from me in the week or two before opening a show. In response they laugh and say, “Aha! You must be in tech week when everything falls apart. It’s going to be wonderful. I can’t wait! See you opening night!” They understand the rehearsal process and know that this phase, where everything falls apart and each line comes out like a thud, is a critical passage on the way to a free performance. It cannot be skipped. This is true for all rehearsal processes, whether we are practicing for an online power point presentation, a TED Talk, or a heightened conversation. But many of us do not know how to rehearse…Read on.

The great Russian director, Stanislavski, created the modern acting methodology while working with playwright Anton Chekhov. The two were interested in creating theater that was human, rather than performative. The Group Theater brought his method to the US, which quickly gave birth to the many schools of method acting, all of them still preeminent today: Lee Strasberg, Stella Adler, Herbert Berghof and Uta Hagen’s HB Studio, and Sanford Meisner, to name a few. Aside from giving us the “objective” or what I refer to as the Intention, Stanislavski gave us the “beat.” Lore has it that he was saying, “this little bit and then this little bit,” but to an American ear is sounded like… Read on.

At a memorial service for my father at the University of Cincinnati, a man, now in his 60s, told a story I’d never heard. Every week for four years, my father hired a student to drive him 1.5 hours to Columbus to meet with the Ohio State University system and the Governor. One week, the Ohio system would present their arguments for denying the University of Cincinnati entrance into the system. The next, my father would present his position. This man, then a student/driver, remembered a week when the Ohio System reps spoke with slides and graphs and mimeographed handouts for 2.5 hours. The next week, my father spoke for less than two minutes saying something like: “The purpose of higher education is to… Read on.

Ineffable Quality: When I sit in the audience for certain events—plays, concerts, talks—I can feel the difference between a performer who makes me think, “Oh, wow! That is a great performer! What a virtuoso!” and a performer pulls me into the music, the story, who makes me feel part of something bigger. One performer awes me while another touches me. One singer elicits a gasp, “What a voice!” The next envelopes me in the beauty of the music. I marvel at one speaker and see things differently when the next has left the stage. This quality of communication can happen in many realms. A favorite story of my father’s was a description of a man passionately weeping…Read on

In grad school at Smith School for Social Work, we spent time thinking deeply about our own experiences, beliefs, histories, psyches, so that we would not project them onto our clinical clients, but would own them and see our clients more clearly. By knowing ourselves, we can better help others. Good boundaries come from knowing what is our issue and what is our client’s issue. We can gain clarity about our own intentions and boundaries by asking the simple question…Read on.

Last week I wrote about high and low intentions for those in public service. For those of us who are not in public service, our intentions may not be so aspirational, but the rule of thumb still guides us: intentions that are FOR others are high intentions; those intentions that boomerang the attention back onto ourselves are low intentions. Imagine we are interviewing for a job. Or hoping to make a sale. It might be tempting to choose a LOW intention: To get the job; To make the sale; To make them like me; To impress…Read on.

In last week’s post, Persuading a National Audience, I talked about the communication skills of great leaders. One hallmark of great leaders is that their overarching intention or purpose benefits others, mostly those with the least power. These are what I call, “high intentions,” as opposed to intentions that benefit the speaker, which I call “low intentions.” For public leaders, examples of high intentions are: “To give hope,” “To help,” “To support,” “To elevate,” “To shine the light on.” Examples of low intentions are: “To control,” “To convince,” To extract,”…Read on.

Great leaders compel others to struggle together towards a shared vision.

Great leaders work for the good of others; mostly, for those who have the least power.

Therefore, great leaders must be great communicators.

Politicians and those in the public eye often have a team of advisors who prepare them for debates, press conferences, media interviews, and speeches. These advisors focus on things like strategy, speech writing, and talking points. When I work on such a team, my job is to make sure that the speaker’s message is congruent with the speaker’s delivery. I focus on how the content is performed through expression, gesture, body-language, and voice.

Any of you following this blog know that my work with clients is not prescriptive; rather, our work focuses on freeing the speaker to be their full selves—alive, powerful, at ease, appropriate, and riveting. Rather than using a list of rules (“stand like this,” “don’t do that,” “lean in here”), we work towards…Read on

Recently I was on a Zoom call with the inimitable, indomitable, inordinately prolific Tom Peters(!). I joined the Zoom link in time to see Tom’s ceiling, desk, windows, a bookshelf, all flying by as he carried his iPad to the desk. Then I heard, “I’m setting up Ruth.” I had no idea what that might mean until I saw his Ruth Bader Ginsburg bobble-head bobble into view. His colleague, Shelley, said, “Tom, I can see Ruth. Can you move her out of frame?” Tom then propped up his iPad horizontally, placed Ruth on the right, just beyond the camera lens and out of view. Why? Read on.

If I can survive it, so can you.

Too many years ago, I was in a wonderful play, The Other Place by Sharr White. I loved this play and the woman I had the honor to portray. She is a scientist who studies early onset dementia. And, unbeknownst to her, she suffers from early onset dementia.

For this role I was on stage for 90 minutes, an unreliable narrator hoping to find her long lost daughter. The other actors disappear into the audience when not on stage. My words trigger the next scene. Or not.

In previews, I lost my way…Read on