Michael Kearns Blog

These Boots Are Made For Tourin'

I lecture to my acting students about the importance of shoes when creating a character. Because I am beginning the process of bringing my intimacies characters back to life, I know how critical it is to choose the right pair of shoes for the tour. Spurred by my recent two-night foray performing Fernando at Highways in Santa Monica, it was time to do some shoe shopping.
 
Acting manifests the lesson of “walking in his (or her) shoes” with new meaning; the metaphor is ultimately about empathy, the bedrock of good acting. Finding a character’s physicality—and, by extension, emotionality—can be greatly enhanced (or hampered) by the choice of footwear. I had to consider the feet of six disparate individuals when choosing my intimacies shoes while keeping my own vulnerable feet in mind.
 
Boots, black boots: of that I was fairly certain. And even though I play two women (Marilyn Monroe is one of them) and one gay dude (who is unquestionably “light in the loafers”), I know I’ll lean toward a pair of butch black boots.
 
Because of my unremitting neuropathy, I want boots that will provide support but also energize each of the characters and their particular stances (especially the four who are on their feet) and physical movement. I don’t want anything that read too 2009; something more neutral would be best, something classic in the sense of being ageless.
 
I head to the Army Navy Surplus Store in Silverlake, not rhapsodizing in any militaristic metaphors (those will come later) but rather in search of a tough, sexy pair of black boots.
 
I spot them on a sale table: They are magnificent in their sturdiness; indeed, they are the real deal—combat boots that appear to have been broken in. When I question the salesperson about their history, I learn that they were worn by “an army captain for inspection purposes,” a captain who served in both Iraq and Afghanistan. He obviously wore them when being scrutinized for the appearance of his wardrobe, not in the trenches. But these boots decidedly have a life; they already tell a story. I want these shoes to intersect with the stories of intimacies.
 
Trying them on is exciting; they feel a bit like what I imagine cothurni would be like. Defined as “a high thick-soled laced boot worn by actors in Greek and Roman tragic drama,” the word “cothurni” is also associated with “the dignified somewhat stilted style of ancient tragedy.” Whether worn on the battlefield or the stage, they definitely conjure theatricality with muscle.
 
While I agree that the war comparisons to the HIV/AIDS battle are tiresome and often a tad exaggerated, I do feel that I have the right to refer to myself as a warrior. And my characters are decidedly fighters—fighting for their dignity, fighting for acceptance, fighting for their lives.
These puppies are perfect.
 
When I lace them up in the dressing room at Highways, I have a sense of purpose. Onstage, I feel grounded, centered; they become the shoes of Fernando. And I’m confident I will find the other characters in my newfound boots.

Going From The Ego Into The Body

“So how will it affect your acting?” a very perceptive friend asked when I told him that I’d stopped taking my daily anti-depressant. As I approach this excavation of my intimacies characters, I realize that I need all my cylinders as clean as possible. I was prescribed the anti-depressant when I began treatment for hep-c and, believe me, I needed it. But in spite of some other nagging issues related to—what, aging? HIV meds?—I think that I can say goodbye to Zoloft. A bit of depression may be part of this ride I’m embarking on.

 The airy-fairy part of me wants to believe that yoga (http://yummyoga.com/) and tai chi will help conquer some of the unstoppable depression. And it seems to be the case thus far. My yoga teacher advises us to “go from the ego into the body.” That’s precisely what I’ve been teaching in acting classes for years.

 What does that mean exactly? I’m not the only acting teacher to refer to “inhabiting a character.” Moving out of the ego and into the body means that I must find where the characters live inside me. This will be different today than it was twenty years ago because I have twenty years of new experience to bring to all six of them; twenty years of agony and ecstasy; twenty years of maturation as well as insidious addiction; twenty years of deaths and a few births.

 Age—my age, the age of the characters. Let’s just say that I’m now literally closer to the age of some of them than I was when I was 39 years old. And I’m considerably older than some of them. Age, like gender or ethnicity, doesn’t exist when you go from ego into the body.

Being a parent for nearly fifteen of those years is one significant shift. My daughter Tia graduates from middle school this year. In addition to being an amazing human being, she happens to be a dynamic actress and will be attending the Los Angeles High School for the Arts in the fall (as I hit the road with intimacies.).

 Check out the company I’m in at USC (http://www.usc.edu/dept/pubrel/visionsandvoices/assets/docs/VV_0910_Brochure.pdf).

 I’m also happy to say that I’ve booked my first gig in North Carolina at the ArtsCenter (http://www.artscenterlive.org/) on November 13/14. I think North Carolina will be the kick off state for the intimacies ’09 tour and there are many reasons for that, not the least of which is my association with Joseph Megel. (who is doing his best to make me a star in NC).

 Please turn your friends on to this blog. I hope that it will be an enlightening look at the artistic process, encompassing the worlds of politics and parenting, and the exhilarating act of conquering a mighty task.

 Michael Kearns’ premiere blog entry #1: intimacies In My Bones

You are the recipient of my first attempt at blogging for one reason only: I think you may be interested in the solo show that I’ve been most closely identified with over the past two decades: intimacies.

bvm

More than anyone on the planet (and there are dozens of people I could list), it’s David Roman who has been the fiercest champion of my work. Leave it to him to come up with the idea (and the remuneration) to do a twentieth anniversary production at USC on World AIDS Day (December 1, 2009). Only after I screeched “yes” at the top of my lungs, did I begin to question myself.

 With insecurities mounting, I did what I always do when I’m uncertain or fearful: I go into action. If I’m going to do one night, why not do two? Or more? Maybe a tour? Revisit some of the cities where the show was performed twenty years ago? Chicago? DC? San Francisco? Maybe add a few citiies? How about going out of the country? Madrid? Sydney? London?

I promise this is not going to be one of those “and then I-ate-a-peanut-butter-and-banana-sandwich” blogs. It is going to be a series of intimacies, intimacies about art, aging, parenting, stamina, hope, self-determination, mortality, activism and disease. Intimacies about intimacies.

 In preparation for this undertaking, I’ve begun trying to get myself physically attuned. In addition to yoga, lifting weights at home (randomly and not very intensely), I’ve begun tai chi. I find that tai chi speaks directly to some of my physical fears as I face bringing my characters to life.

“It takes years before the practice is in your bones,” our tai chi teacher explains. His words ground me, knowing that Big Red, Fernando, Phoenix, Marilyn, Father Anthony and Patrick are in my bones; they have taken up residence there for twenty years. I have never stopped performing them, at various times, bringing them out for a World AIDS Day performance or a visit to a college. Now they will emerge as part of a tapestry that will, twenty years after their birth, look at the complexities of HIV/AIDS in with a new perspective.

 How can that perspective not be impacted by what has happened to me? And part of what has happened to me is the transformation of my body, my bones; its response to being a long term survivor, including a drug regime and the inevitable side effects. Then there’s the emotional reservoir that overflows with feelings that are sometimes mature and sometimes utterly wonky.

And how can my characters not have changed, based on the dramatically altered political consciousness, from Bush Sr. to two terms of his inane son with Clinton thrown in between? Shockingly, AIDS has remained a political issue, one that is direly complex and steeped in our country’s greatest challenges. Then and now.