One concept in Jewish thought that I always liked is written about beautifully in the book Woman to Woman (which is based on a series of lectures by Rebbetzin Esther Greenberg). Basically, the idea goes like this: if you were a construction worker with some kind with an intelligent foreman for a boss, you could show up at work one day and, based entirely on what is in your toolbox and where you are, figure out what you are meant to do that day at work. Of course, we are the worker and Gd is the foreman. Our gifts and passions are within our toolbox and our life's circumstances are the setting.
Ok, now that I've butchered that I can move on.
I was recently fortunate to spend a Shabbos meal with some NYU students, including a woman who recently graduated from the same theater program I went to. We discussed our shared feelings of conflict over being theater artists who had become passionate about our Judaism. We came to term our Torah learning a "wakening of the sleeping giant." Inconvenient, but ultimately not something one can ignore. There's a giant in the room. An awake one. That changes the situation.
So here we are, albeit still in two somewhat different places, trying to figure out this delicate balance between our creative gifts and passions and the indescribable beauty of Torah and a Torah lifestyle.
And I think it is starting to be time to check out that back burner which has been caring for my artistic soul for the last two years while I've explored a new part of myself.
While I am happy with the choices I've made and certainly wouldn't take anything back, I am inarguably in a different place than I ever expected to be.
Mentsch tracht, Gott lacht. (Yiddish proverb- Man plans and Gd laughs.)
Forget the Orthodox Jewish bit (if you can fit that pink elephant into the corner for a moment, thank you). How about the married bit? The imminently arriving BABY bit? The--dare I say it--living in SUBURBAN NEW JERSEY bit?
This was not the plan. And I'd spent a good decade crafting this plan. And I spent much of the last two years trying to craft a NEW fabulous plan that would make this all fit neatly together. Way to learn the lesson, self.
And yet, I wouldn't change a thing. No, this is not the route to my Oscar. Nor are we buying our one-way tickets to Israel any time soon. How unglamorous of us.
On the other hand, I am currently engaged in the single most creative act known to mankind. THIS SECOND. And this one.
It's time to accept that this is not the workplace I anticipated. The needs of the world I live in now are not the needs I thought I would one day fill. What I have to offer will not be received the way I had planned out. Nu? It's taken me two years to come to terms with this? I've been observing this phenomenon for all this time without swallowing that pill (which ultimately I don't think is even such a bad pill to swallow!).
It's time to look into the toolbox, get a good lay of the land, and start building.
So it's been a while since I've written anything. I was so excited to go in and teach and blog about this exciting challenge. And I'm still interested in doing so. But I'm caught over whether I'm comfortable blogging about that HERE, where, since this blog has history, I'm pretty easily identifiable. Not that I'd ever consider blogging anything to identify my students or anything like that... it's just one of those Haredi grey areas that makes me nervous.
Which pretty much points to exactly what I am trying to learn from my husband. We moved to our town with the express plan to surround ourselves with people one step--or, in most cases, many many steps--ahead of us. The thinking being, if we become complacent in our avodas Hashem we will at worst fall into peer pressure to--what? For him, to make it to minyan. For me, to up my level tzniut. It could be worse. I'd rather be uncomfortable that people would know I keep up to date on some unforgivably bad TV shows than be embarrassed not to be up on the latest fashion trends.
And I think our logic is good. But he seems to have been able to integrate that logic. Yes, he's surrounded by people who are futher ahead, but that's just the end goal. And for now, our avoda is to slowly, steadily progress towards that goal. Not to don the black hat and fool everyone, but to grow to make Hashem proud. Not the neighbors.
Ok, so that's that. Why I haven't blogged, and why this blog still doesn't have a particular slant. Maybe that will keep it boring enough that nobody will bother to stumble upon it and I have nothing to worry about :)
So. The real reason I wanted to write is that I'm finding so many parallels these days between my acting training and Judaism that I wanted to get them down on--well, not paper. To get them down. Or out.
I am, BH, very fortunate to have an amazing phone chevrusa with my old chevrusa from seminary. We are learning Rebbetzin Tzipporah Heller and Sarah Yocheved Rigler's book, Battle Plans. I highly reccomend it--and I highly reccommend it in the context of chevrusa learning. Just dont' take mine.
And we reached Battle Plans #45 and 46 which both deal with the issue of "forbidden thoughts." As the authors write, "the Torah prohibits thoughts such as anger, lust, jealousy, hatred, and judgemental reflections."* So, one may ask, now we're supposed to run our thoughts with constant intention? Impossible! Here: don't think about the pink elephant. See? Their explanation of the classical responce evoked many many classes from the Atlantic Theater Company (see if any yogis are out there). In short, the battle plan is to notice you are having a "forbidden thought" and gently and nonjudgementally turn your mind to something else. Suddenly I got another of my Former-Life-Meets-Present-Life lightbulb moments: this is why I had hours and hours of this drilled in my head while in downward dog or deep breathing exercises. Notice your thoughts have strayed, don't judge, and gently turn them back to ____ (your breath, your line, your intention, etc.).
And I let my yetzer hara tell me that I can't stop thinking about the shopping list during davening? Please. I gotta use what skills I have.
Ok, so the Atlantic Theater Company revisited again today. Morning blessings. After various blessings over mitzvot and some mini-Torah study, we start into a string of brachot.
NOTE: This is in no way meant to be an explanation or scholarly understanding of the brachot. Just my thoughts to myself, and to you if they are of any assistance in real kavanah.
"Blessed are You Hashem our Gd, King of the universe, Who...." (and all sorts of things He does). I read once that Jews used to say these brachot as they got up. "Releases the bound," they start to get up, "straightens the bent," they stand up, etc. Here's what I got today...
"...Who straightens the bent." (This is the hundred times my teachers have encouraged to take up all 5 feet 6 inches of height.)
"...Who spreads out the earth upon the waters." (This is that crazy movement class where he could see from how I lay on the hardwood floor that I was uncomfortable taking up space--spread out, take up space he kept telling me.)
"...Who has provided me with my needs." (Ok for some reason this evoked my most powerful AP Psych class--Maslow's hierarchy of needs. For some reason, after some rough years feeling a like I'd been out all night tossed on a wild ocean (or Manhattan, maybe worse) I take great comfort in this: Hashem is reminding me there is a steady roof over my head and food in the refrigerator. I thank Him and acknowledge this is not a given, knowing I have my foundation needs met. I can move up.)
"...Who establishes the footsteps of man." (Here I see my mom's gentle example. Find your path. Find what you are here to be.***)
"...Who girds Israel with strength." (Because once you know your path, you need His help to be bold enough to pursue it, no?)
"...Who crowns Israel with splendor." (This evoked the image of those true do-gooders who hold their heads high, with such grace, already crowned. Our friend Noelle is a powerful example of this to my husband and I. Another way I see this is: once we find our path, we thank Hashem for being there to help us achieve it. And this can be for the individual or collectively as Am Yisrael.)
"...Who gives strength to the weary." (So we can continue to change the world.)
Ok, y'all. Go get 'em! :)
*Side note: It makes me very happy to see the old MLA comma rules, with the comma before the "and." Anyone know if we're officially back to that?
**Basically the Artscroll translation.
***Another side note: My favorite explanation of the concept of Gehenom is that Hashem shows you the portrait that was drawn of you: of all the things you would do and who you would be in the world. The discrepancy between that vision and reality is our true "punishment."
My Rabbi at NYU recently responded to my request and sent me copies of some lectures he gave and articles he used to a Jewish artist fellowship. Writing out my email in response to his articles gave me some clarity about the issues on my mind in the arena of Judaism and art, so I thought I'd share them here...
While I am interested in all aspects of the art world, the bulk of my experience is with acting and the issues with Jewish arts are distinct in this case. So while my personal questions relate also to directing and writing, I'm mainly focused here on the issues that present the Jewish actor.
Rav Feinstein's tshuva was the hardest to read of all the articles I received. (Rav Feinstein writes that it's a problem to be in a play as they often portray illicit relationships or take acts like murder lightly.) While it seems pretty far-fetched to say that if I play a murderer I'm going to think that that's okay and go out and murder, what he says has a foundation in (of course) Judaism and (perhaps more surprisingly) acting theory.
In our Mussar class we are studying Rambam's writings on Mussar (I need to find out exactly where this comes from). Recently we read his idea that to change our bad middos (character traits) we need to practice the other extreme, many times, over a long period of time. The example given is that a miserly person should give a bit too much until they have balanced out and are generous, but neither miserly nor a spendthrift.
In my training I heard over and over that action begets feeling and feeling begets personality. Be on time. Always be on time. Even for things that really don't matter--because it will help you to become--to change into--a punctual person. On stage, we see the same idea. Isn't the classic director's line, "again"? There's good reason for that. Repetition of a phrase and gesture internalize the feeling until the feeling comes freely with the action (hopefully in time for performance). Very Pavlovian. So my biggest issue with the concept of a Jewish actor playing in a show that defies Torah values is that I've seen no logical argument that can "disprove" this concept that the repetition of this part won't have a bad impact on the character of the actor.
My second question is the issue of priorities. Am I a Jewish actor or a Jew who acts? (Or directs, writes...) Do I take what I have learned from Judaism and bring this fresh perspective back to my stage, or do I re-learn to view the stage from this new perspective of a religious Jew? Priorities state the latter, but I'm unsure if that's the best use of me. Perhaps, as a religious Jew, I find a religious obligation to engage in "secular" theater (I don't really think such a thing exists... artists are avidly religious in their own way). This needs more thinking.
My final problem is the position of theater artist within a community. Community is very important in Judaism. As an artist, my learning always showed me that the artist/storyteller/clown was the position of the outsider or "other." The artist is in the classic position of just beyond the walls of the home, looking in on the family. Or in our case, just outside the eruv, looking in at the community :) Does this unique position afford the artist the "luxury" of maintaining absolute purity, avoiding the stage and it's inherent grime? If our position is to reflect back truth to others, then when it's not a nice truth we maintain our obligation to reflect. This makes us a vehicle of something base... and if actions beget feelings and feelings personality... it follows that we then become base. I have met some very unhealthy actors who always chose to play unhealthy characters. There's no coincidence there. It seems to me that Hashem chooses His artists carefully. (While everyone is artistic to some degree, not everyone is the Artist/the outsider/the Enneagram Type 4... whichever label works.) He knows that this makes us somehow different, impatient with the status quo. Again, if we are designed differently, where does this leave us in terms of the community?
In response to the NYU Rabbi's ideas about the need for Jewish organizations to provide a substantial link between Judaism and art... for sure there is something much richer in Judaism than Jewish a-capella will ever provide, as nice as it is. Jewish art has more potential than an event of a group of Jews who happen to be doing art together. And I think the students must know that. I recently told my Rosh Midrasha in a meeting that I had trouble thinking of leaving theater because, before I got to Israel, actors were the most spiritual, searching people I'd ever met. The issue arises, I think, when you find one truth conflicting so drastically to another. I see "truth" in Shakespeare. And I think it conflicts with the truth I see in Torah (this needs more thought, also).
Probably good to go to bed now. Just a few thoughts that need to be muddled through. Wish me luck!