I do a lot of research about the time and the place when I start a new piece of material or undertake a new character. I feel so lucky that I live close to the Met because I can go and look at paintings. Especially with “Hamilton,” I can see paintings from that time, see how they make me feel. I can feel what women are saying within those paintings, within those portraits, because that’s all we have from that time. The research process is half online performing arts education and half real-world experiences and feelings applied to your character.

I try to look as much as I can to people that know more than me about the time period, about all of the facts, to get to the truth. Then, I have to really look into myself and see what my subtext is. What is underneath all of those facts? Is there an accent? Where is she from? When was she born? What’s underneath all of those things?

Sometimes a character can be very relatable to my own life, like Nina Rosario. I felt so connected to that character, because I’m the first one in my family to go to college. I always did things not just for myself, but with the notion that I was doing something more for my family and my community. That was a big part of my upbringing.

Nina was so much like that, and she took a lot of the weight of the world on her shoulders. I understood where she was coming from. I knew what her intention was, and I knew what her truth was, because it was just part of me. So, I had to bring that to the performance, which can be the hardest part, being vulnerable, being open to whatever’s going to happen.

I’m not robotic. I like to go in and breathe with the other actors and see where they are that night and what they’re giving me, and see how that moves me, how that moves my character, and see what I give them back. You can learn a lot from a performing arts education and also learn a lot from your fellow actors and their processes and performances.

It’s a very organic feeling every night, and I love that. I wouldn’t want it any other way. When you have an acting partner that also works that way, it’s just magic. The basic way that I try to build a character is really from the ground up and through honesty and through my truth.

Back a long time ago, the idea of blocking was pretty straightforward. It was really about stage picture. You stand there. Or I stand here. Or you sit on this line. Or I stand on this line. There are moments when making specific movements across the stage or movements on the set are prescribed in a precise way that we need you to do this now because of something that happens in the script.

But the truth is that much of what happens in blocking is a collaboration between actor and director. It is the exploration of the actor’s actions and needs in a given moment in a scene. It’s easy to take for granted something as simple as walking across a room or where you stand in a space. But the following simple examples may help you understand how meaningful blocking can be in the performing arts.

So, if you picture a fairly traditional theater with the audience on one side and the stage on the other, you can then imagine an actor standing in the middle of that space, facing the audience, in a stance that means something, right? This person is alone. Depending on how big the space is, we experience something about the scale of a human being in this space. We might think about how that person is or isn’t like us as an audience member.

Now, turn that person away from you so that they’re facing away. That’s right; they’re facing upstage. Suddenly, I lose all sorts of information. I can’t see that person’s face or expressions. As an audience member, I’ve lost information, but I’ve gained potential interest. You might not be aware of these perceptions unless you have a performing arts education.

Now, what if that person extends their arms really wide, opens their chest up, but I can’t see their face? You can imagine that any one of those choices makes a big difference to how we experience whatever that person says in that moment. But it can be challenging to interpret that person’s stance, movements, and gestures without the help of facial expressions.

It becomes even more exciting and complicated when you have multiple characters onstage. If I have two actors very far downstage, very close to the audience, huddled together, whispering to each other, my experience as an audience member is going to be one of tremendous intimacy.

But if I keep one of those actors very close and send another far away upstage, it’s going to change my relationship with one of them with whom I have a much closer, intimate relationship to that other person who is much further away. I might begin to have an empathic response to the person who’s closer compared to the one who’s more distant.

As an actor, it’s valuable to understand that your audience is experiencing, particularly in theater, your work as a kind of three-dimensional sculpture that’s constantly changing shape. As a director, it’s important to understand that everywhere that bodies are in space communicates something to your audience, as you might learn from an online performing arts education. So, it’s better for that communication to be intentional rather than accidental.

Look at the theater as a field and look at the incredible capacity that it can hold. You will notice that there are many kinds of theater. There are so many different expressions, and they take different shapes. What are they? How do we get a handle on them?

I have a couple of answers. The thought that often emerges is this idea of different theater genres and different kinds of theater frameworks. It is crucial so that we have a toolset with which to discuss. To look at theater and engage in the different expectations.

There is a kind of way that one can understand contemporary theater. I’ll focus on that for a moment. First, there is that kind of work that would be considered playwright-driven work. It is work where the initial collaboration and the initial impetus come from somebody. The person puts a kind of text framework that focuses and becomes the foundation for making the work. The idea is that the play is what reigns supreme. It is the fundamental guiding principle.

There’s another kind of work that functions on a collaborative model. Work that brings a group of individuals together to devise, make, and create. Or to research and bring together a new piece, a new work together. This kind of approach sits on a question, a research action, or a series of interviews. Also, it could be an exploration that allows the piece to take shape. The result might be a written text, but not necessarily the beginning space.

These two are spaces where the text sits as a significant part of the conversation. There’s a third space I want to draw our attention to, and it’s the space of physical work. Physical work created collaboratively or already with a plan. It’s about physical expression. Also, there may be language, which is a kind of secondary part of the performance.

These three pods become essential. There’s another one that I would frame. I find it problematic, but it’s essential to know. It’s a framework often termed classical work, and we inherited this language over time and space in the theater. It is present particularly throughout Europe and the Americas.

When folks say “classical,” they often refer to Shakespeare or Greek theater from the Classical era, Aristotle and Euripides. During that moment, there was philosophy, which influenced the creation of plays. It is of what we framed as classical.
There are a few more things included depending on who you discuss. Definitively, when one looks at classical, one is often looking from a Eurocentric standpoint. Again, I find that a little bit problematic.

If we’re going to speak classical over a particular area, I always invite that we look at it on a global scale. Look at Japanese Noh theater, a kind of theater that was great in Japan. In the 15th century, we looked at Chinese opera. Also, we ought to look at India’s Kathakali, and Indonesia’s wayang kulit-like. All these different traditions do have a kind of classical narrative. These narratives are an essential part of performing arts education. They are a significant subject, even in online performing arts education.

People give theater critics a bad name. More often than not, they think of a theater critic as a person who says just negative things. “[There’s] a stereotype of the place, it’s opening night, and then everyone has kind of raced to the bar essentially, and they’ve looked at the newspaper. And the newspaper says ‘Oh, this play is terrible,'” states Dr. Harvey Young, an online performing arts education professional. “And that’s not actually the job of a theater critic.”

The job of a theater critic is actually to be an honest, objective, and reliable performing arts education source for a larger public. Their purpose is to acknowledge that not all of their readers will ever go see the play, but that they still want to be informed. They want to know more about what is happening.

The critic will tell readers, honestly, what they think of the production and be objective. They are not related to anyone who made the play. They are not an actor in the production. They will just tell you whether or not it is worthwhile for you to spend your hard-earned money and two to three hours of your time to attend the event and to see the show.

The performing arts critic is not going to be negative. They’ll just be honest. That is the job of a theater critic: to connect with the reader and share their opinion. The thing about theater critics is that those critics who are truly negative never last long. You’ll notice that likable theater critics become the most passionate and ardent advocates for certain productions. “[If] you look at the theater criticism around “In the Heights,” which was Lin-Manuel Miranda’s play before “Hamilton,” that play was nurtured, it was supported, it was sort of praised again and again by theater critics going, ‘Hey, you’ve got to go see this thing,'” Dr. Young says.

The same thing happened with the work of Tennessee Williams. People had no idea who Tennessee Williams was. It was early theater critics who said, “There’s something happening down the street. You’ve got to go check this out.” When “A Raisin in the Sun” first came out, there was a buzz created by critics. It was critics who saw the play in New Haven, Chicago, and Philadelphia, preparing an audience on Broadway for its arrival there.

Lloyd Richards, who directed the play, remembered standing in the ticket lobby of the theater. An African-American woman arrived to buy a ticket and he asked her, “What inspires you to see this production?” She replied, “Well, it was Sidney Poitier. He’s in this.”

“Well, you can see Sidney Poitier on screen for a fraction of the price,” replied Lloyd Richards. Her response was “I’ve heard about this play, and I’ve heard it concerns me.”

That quote, “I’ve heard it concerns me,” is a testament to the power of theater critics to get the word out about why theater matters for people.

I used to cringe when thinking about budgets. Now? I love a budget because it’s a roadmap. It is one of the many roadmaps you learn to use in performing arts education. When you have to write down the line items of every single cost for everything that needs to be done, you discover that you have organized a list of the tasks you must complete in order to achieve your performance goals.

You don’t worry so much about what each item costs. Instead, you say to yourself, “Oh my gosh! I do need this. I do need that. Do I really need that?” Depending on your shifting circumstances, the list can change. You have to be fluid.

Yes, I wanted wild projections of city imagery during my show. I then realized that for many different reasons—money, cumbersome technology—it might not be practical wherever I go. What I did instead was copy and enlarge images from the graphic novel that we made of the play. We used them to make the set, which turned out beautiful and brilliant.

As you can see, a budget task that might drive you crazy because of cost considerations can also add to the creative process while saving you time and money in the long run. An online performing arts education can help you recognize unique creative opportunities in administrative tasks.

When considering the roles of the arranger, orchestrator and music supervisor, Simon Hale thinks it’s useful to explain a little bit about what those three jobs entail. An arranger, he informs us, takes an existing piece of music, a song in this case, and adapts it for another purpose. That can be a pretty radical alteration, or it can be quite gentle. It really depends on the circumstance.

However, it will have obvious building-block components like the key, the rhythm, the structure and instrumentation. All those blocks that make up a song or a piece of music can be completely changed. Obviously, you wouldn’t change any lyrics in a song—though you might change the order of verses, perhaps—but that’s the only thing.

You can change chords if you are going to rearrange something. You can add countermelodies. You can be really radical, actually, and make something sound completely different from how it did originally. But it is still the same song, just in a very, very different expression.

Imagine that we take a picture frame as an example. If you’re an arranger, you’ve got the chance to say, you know what? I’m going to put that picture right on the opposite wall. And oh, it’s not going to be square. It’s going to be 3 feet by 4 feet. And it’s going to be slightly off-center; it’s going to be slightly skewed. And it’s got a kind of gnarly bit up on upper right-hand side. This all sounds a little bit crass, but an orchestrator takes what an arranger or someone else has done and then shapes that into their own design.

For example, as an orchestrator, you’ll be given the picture frame. And it already has a load of information in it—the key, the structure, the shape, all those kinds of things. You have to think, OK, I want this to have a bit of yellow up in the top, around the corner, and a bit of sharp imagery down here. You’re filling in detail and coloring as well as deciding what the essence of it is.

But you’re not deciding major things like the key and the structure. They’ve already been done. That’s what the arranger does. An arranger decides on the shape of the music in a very, very powerful way. The orchestrator takes the music that’s been chosen and designs the specific detailed elements for the boundary. The music supervisor will then look at the overall music department. They could potentially be choosing an orchestrator or an arranger. Those roles could be filled by the same person.

The music supervisor is looking at the overall musical context, making sure that everything is the way it should be, liaising with unions, liaising with the director, with producers, with GMs, all those kinds of things. They’re also, monitoring the show on an ongoing basis to make sure that it stays in the shape everyone wants it to and remains the way it was from opening night.

Relationships with other people as part of a theatrical production are an interesting thing to think about.

If you’d like to pursue a performing arts education and learn more about the various specific roles you might play in the performing arts, the traditional approach isn’t the only avenue open to you. You might find it much more accessible and convenient to engage in an online performing arts education.

“When I said, ‘Will you be a presenter?’ They all said, ‘What’s a presenter?’ And I said, ‘It’s like a producer, but you don’t put any money in. You’re just a presenter’. And when they didn’t have to put money in, it was even more enticing for them,” says Robert Galinsky.

“So now I got a team with A-list Hollywood actors, hard-core working actors that are respected both in theater and in film. Matter of fact, Barry Shabaka Henley starred in “Jitney,” August Wilson’s “Jitney.” So now I got solid people with great reputations. So now I could go to the investor.”

Galinsky had another mentor in the performing arts, Mark Schoenfeld, who wrote the musical “Brooklyn,” which ran on Broadway. Schoenfeld taught Galinsky that a lot of interesting people have resources, and it’s time to start asking about them, which can only help in performing arts education.

Galinsky says, “So here’s a point I want everybody to get. Change your mind about when you ask somebody for something. When you ask somebody for something, you’re not a burden. That’s a compliment. It’s a compliment. So refrain. Don’t go in asking. I didn’t go to my investor going, ‘Could you, could you give me the money, could you?’ No, I went into my investor going, ‘You’re the man. You make things happen. I want you to make it happen with me. With me, not for me.'”

So the take away from Galinsky’s main point, it’s really important to go in there knowing what you want, and take this as a great lesson in online performing arts education. Because he’s going to go, “Wow.” No matter what question you ask of anybody. “Wow, they thought that much of me to ask me to come in on this?” This doesn’t mean they’re going to say yes immediately. They’re going to examine everything and all the variables, like who’s on the team, what is the script, what is the history of the work, who is this person, and do I want to be associated with them? However, you’ve got to get over the hurdle of asking. You’ve just got to ask. You have to ask people for help.

What does a scenic designer do? “Well, I am essentially in charge of all of the visual elements that you see in the theater,” says Giannis Downs. “That can be what the curtains look like, what the props look like, what the architecture is painted like, and even how the actors come in and out of the space. My work tends to influence the costume designer and the lighting designer as well.”

Often, the performing arts scenic designer is brought in earlier than some of the other designers because the number of architectural elements involved tend to require more time to work on. I often work about six to eight months in advance of a production. So the scenic designer will be contacted by a director or a producer early on. When hired, they will start meeting with the directors. Sometimes, they will be in different parts of the country and have video chats or phone conversations. They’ll get to know each other and do some visual research. Then, they’ll start to develop visual clues as to what the design might look like.

As we develop the design a little more, the scenic designer will start doing some renderings, which could be pencil sketches, which a performing arts education would recommend. But nowadays, they’re more often crafted as digital illustrations. That will help the production team determine what the overall look will be. As that develops further, scenic designers make 3-D models and photograph them to forward to the others. Sometimes, the scenic designer sends the model itself to the director for approval.

“We’ll then take that model and do draftings of each element that will appear in the show,” says Downs. “So that could be large walls, as well as architectural details and individual props.” Online performing arts education models can be helpful at this stage. The scenic designer will create a large package of draftings of everything that they can think of along with lists and references for all of the elements that will be involved.

The next step is to take the model and paint it in Photoshop or other digital programs, and that will provide color notes for the director to choose from. The lighting designer and costume designer can also base their ideas on these renderings. Those will become the basis for the painters to colorize the show. When the production team is actually in the theater, much of the scenic designer’s work is done.

With Module 5, “Managing the House and Beyond,” we’re going to take a look at the much larger ecosystem of people and professions that are involved in making live performances happen.

The performing arts experience for most of us involves simply showing up, receiving a program and watching a live performance. Yet, the reality of the performance involves so much more than the audience experience. There is an entire community, an ecosystem, and a long history of people from any number of different fields, including artistic, managerial and critical, that all come together to produce more than just the play or performance that you see on any given night. These people are in a conversation about live performance with a full, rich history throughout time and all over the world.

Performing Arts Education

As you can guess, we’re excited to share with you a tiny bit of insight into the many, many different kinds of professions that make up this exciting world of live performance. An online performing arts education can open doors you never might have imagined to a wide range of careers in dance, drama, music and various other performance-related fields.

Where does performing arts work happen? There’s a traditional, expected framework, particularly at this moment, that theater happens inside a theater. This idea is especially common in Europe and the Americas. You sit in a chair, and there’s a stage. It’s usually a proscenium stage, which means that there’s an imaginary fourth wall and the audience witnesses a kind of expected tradition.

In your performing arts education, you’ll learn that this inheritance has been disrupted in a lot of ways. For example, you may have experienced theater in the round or theater where you’re sitting on two sides of the stage or there are other configurations of the room. But the room is still localized in a theater.

Ruben Polendo points out that “there’s another kind of work that’s important, as it speaks to location. And it’s the idea of site-specific work.” Intended to disrupt the expectation that work happens in a theater, the idea of site-specific work is that theater work can happen anywhere, Polendo explains. “You can actually identify the site, so it can happen in the forest, in a park, in an abandoned bank. It can happen on a riverbed; it can happen in a lot of places.” So, the site becomes a key factor in the performance.

Immersive theater is a third type that’s important to understand in online performing arts education. Although the language for this has just become important recently, the style has been part of artistic practice for a very long time. Polendo views immersive theater as somewhat in line with the site-specific variety. “It often happens in unexpected places, though it has certainly happened in theaters,” he observes. “The idea is that you’re no longer bound to a sitting configuration, but actually you are immersed in the world of the piece. You’re actually surrounded by it … and your experience is now fully experiential. This is a very exciting kind of work to do.”

Harvey Young agrees. “There’s a liveness factor that is powerful. It’s worth celebrating,” he says. “And so I would say to anyone who is anxious or more concerned about going to the theater, ‘Don’t be.'” He adds that what’s wonderful about American theater is that it really aims to reach the people.

Young offers a case in point: When Amiri Baraka did “Dutchman,” it premiered in Greenwich Village. It drew an art crowd, the generation crowd of the time in the early 1960s. Baraka’s reaction was like, “‘No, no, no, I appreciate that crowd as well, but my people are up in Harlem.’ So he took the exact same production, and he moved it up to Harlem on the streets, and he did it at a street-corner theater.”

That made a huge difference across New York City, Young explains, “because now you had people across the entire island of Manhattan thinking about and living and inhabiting this play. So, that’s what you want. You want theater to be alive.

“A lot of people want to know what it takes to create theater and to start a theater company or put on a play for the first time. It sounds taxing at first. It sounds really difficult. Do I need to get a choreographer? Do I need to rent out a theater, an auditorium?”

Young downplays those concerns. “It’s not that big of a deal. All you need to create theater is a performer, a performer who is willing to perform in front of someone else,” he says, adding, “The basic definition of theater is someone performing before another person. It’s witnessed; it’s audienced. It’s two people sharing space together — one as witness, one as performer.”

As Polendo sees it, “One of the things that makes theater-making so exciting to me is that one of the responsibilities is not only that it’s live, but that it’s actually live in the sense that it’s constantly developing, that it’s consciously taking shape and constantly speaking to its time and of its time.”

Over time in history, Polendo notes, you see all sorts of cultures do exactly that, shaping theater into spaces of ritual or performance. They shape it into spaces where text is important or physicality is important.

“What’s exciting to me is that there is no trajectory of how theater develops,” Polendo says. “There’s this incredible map, and that map has to do with ideas and exchanges and migrations, and it’s there that theater comes alive.” He concludes, “If you want to think of the history of theater, don’t think of a line of theater developing, but think of this incredible map that’s coming from all sorts of directions.”