I remembered reading a story several years ago about the great silent film actor, Lon Chaney, Sr. It seems that when he first came to Hollywood to break into the movies, this well-trained stage actor could not find a role as a "leading man" or even as a main character. He was constantly being cast as a background actor or a lesser ensemble member. Feeling frustrated with this, Mr. Chaney, Sr. started doing something that transformed himself into a household name. . . More about that in just a moment because I want to explain something that most of us who act may have forgotten or set aside and it is just that word--TRANSFORM. According to Merriam-Webster, "transform" means "to change (something [or one's self]) completely and usually in a good way"; "to change in composition or structure"; "to change the outward form or appearance of"; or "to change in character or condition". Transformation is like what happens to a caterpillar who wraps itself in its chrysalis or cocoon--the body breaks down into a slimy, slushy form that becomes a butterfly or moth. . .a completely different creature. When you are transformed, you become something so different that you can NEVER go back to what you were before like the butterfly or moth can never become a caterpillar again. Now, back to Mr. Chaney, Sr. Lon started using stage make-up and prosthetic body parts like noses, ears, etc., that allowed him to look like a completely different person or character. He literally became known as the man of a thousand faces. He played a pirate in the original silent film Treasure Island as well as Quasimodo in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in the movie by the same name, the Phantom in the original Phantom of the Opera, an oriental bad guy, a clown, a cowboy, and even Fagin in Oliver Twist. In more than 160 different films, he became the character that he allowed himself to be transformed into, never playing the same person twice. I stand to learn a GREAT lesson from this original superstar of the Silver Screen and that is to be transformed into the character that I want to be. As I prepare for auditions and the roles that I do, I have learned to do a personal biography and character study of the person I will be portraying--making it up for me when there is no background for that person. I choose to wear clothing that they would wear. Cut, brush or shave my hair to look like what I believe that character would wear. Accessorize as if that person were accessorizing--watches, cuff links, necklace, hat, gloves, or whatever they may wear. Add a mustache with spirit gum if I don't have time to grow one out. Practice speaking like they would speak. Capture their "essence" and be transformed into them. In the end, your transformation can lead you to success like it did for Mr. Chaney. Honestly, when you can transform yourself into your character (without losing your true persona in the process) you become a better, more believable actor. It is my hope to continue to be an actor like Lon Chaney, Sr. who greatly affected the entire movie industry--even to this day--with his iconic make-up and transformed acting style. It was said of him by his adopted daughter, Stella, "(Lon) was a man of great integrity and joy, who worked hard, loved his family, and did what he loved most of all in his life--he made movies." Cheers to you and your transformation! Jeff
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Ok, so I decided after almost 30 years of being away from the stage. . .which I loved so much but willingly gave up when I moved out to L.A. . . .I decided last year to return to the stage at the prompting of my daughters. It's honestly been a struggle to get my voice back in shape and lose some weight--let's face it, I got lazy. . . and fat--but I digress. Anyway, as I have come back to the stage, I realized that the audition process hasn't changed a whole lot (and I'll talk about that in a different blog) AND the competition hasn't gotten any easier. I currently attempt to pursue as many auditions as I can. Being one's own manager and agent means that I have to work on my own personal promotion, booking and record-keeping as well as kicking my own backside into gear to work. On Monday of this week, I booked an audition for the play Thoroughly Modern Millie to be performed this summer here in L.A. My youngest daughter and I booked a late audition (after 10 pm) and when we arrived, we found that we were the last ones to actually audition. Personally, I prefer either going first or dead last because if I'm first then I'm done with the audition and if I'm last then I've had the chance to size up the "competition". My daughter went and did a fabulous job singing--a Capella, mind you, because the accompanist had already left for the night--and then dancing too. She picks up almost any form of dance fairly quickly which is a cool thing to watch. Then it was my turn to generate a little bit of buzz. I think that my "give-a-damn" must've been broken that night because I came prepared for my audition with props and a choice song. Allow me to explain what I mean about my "give-a-damn" being broken. There is probably innate within most rational and reasonable human beings a "switch" that keeps us from mouthing off too much or getting ourselves into too much trouble. It's the same "switch" or "filter" that looks at people and keeps us from doing silly and insane things because we are "concerned" about what other people may think of us. We actually "give-a-damn" about how we look or what we wear or what others think. Monday night, mine wasn't functioning at all. Here's why I say that: I said that I came prepared for my audition with props and a choice song, right? Since I know that in this particular musical and theatre company I didn't have a chance for the lead actor's role (a particularly cool guy who is somewhat younger than I am) I decided to try out for a great character role, one that I had auditioned for at another theatre without success. This role is a Chinese character named Bun Foo. My challenge is that I'm white, blonde-haired, and blue-eyed. . .not your typical Chinese-looking actor. I came in and introduced myself and prepared to sing a Capella. With music in hand, I grabbed my Chinese hat and put it on before putting on a pair of Chinese-eyed glasses. Yes, it was the silliest audition I've ever performed before as I sang The Siamese Cat Song from Disney's Lady and the Tramp. And yes, probably the most racist, but it worked to perfection. I didn't really care what I looked like or sounded like but I had fun plus I made the producer and musical director laugh. The next day, I received a phone call inviting me to the callback. And that's another story for another blog but needless to say, I didn't get that part this time but I did garner some welcomed attention. Sometimes, as actors, we have to stop being concerned about what we look like and think others think about us. We have to, at times, allow our "give-a-damn" to be broken so we can fully put ourselves out there. The lesson that I'm learning is to stop living life so safely and put yourself out there. It isn't easy, whatever you may do but just do it. I guarantee that in the long run you will feel better about yourself and really isn't that all worth it? My advice to you is simply this, no matter what part you are going for, allow your "give-a-damn" to be broken even for just a moment in order to be the silliest, best person you can be. Who knows? You might even just get the role. Invest in yourself, believe in yourself, because you are enough!
Cheers! Jeff |
JEFFREY'S BIO
Jeffrey Loewen is a recent actor in self-exile who has decided to return to the stage after nearly 30 years of working behind the scenes. His return to the theatre began in 2014 at the Louise K. Taylor Performing Arts Center in Monrovia, CA as Uncle Henry in The Wizard of Oz and was followed up with the role of Mr. Alonso Smith for Meet Me In St. Louis. He has performed in several productions in the St. Louis and Chicago area in the 1980’s including Carousel, Oklahoma!, Fiddler on the Roof, Wait Until Dark, The Music Man, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Julius Caesar, and Showboat. Having studied theatre at Judson College (now Judson University) in Elgin, IL and worked with several acting repertoires, Jeffrey has been transplanted to the LA area for almost 30 years where he has worked behind the scenes writing, directing, producing, costuming, designing sets and doing lights and camera in his spare time. He describes himself as a storyteller, actor, singer as well as an announcer for several different venues including synchronized swimming and pageants. First and foremost a husband (for over 27 years) and the father of four daughters—three of whom have worked on stage with dad and a fourth who is studying cinema at Azusa Pacific University. He can currently be seen in the Glendale Centre Theatre's Children's Production of Cinderella. CategoriesArchives |