Episodes 55 & 56 - Embracing the Wild Side of Grief through Acting
HANNAH: I'm super excited to talk. I really loved our conversation last time too, when we chatted, like about, even just like the role of art and grief, and like using that to process, and everything, and the play that you wrote. Yeah, so I don't know, like what, what would you say like the role of art and grief is? I know that's a huge question.
ANDREW: So I've been thinking about this a lot. In fact, I've been trying really hard to get into the habit of every morning, waking up crazy early, because I have an 8 a.m. class, two days a week, and a 9 a.m. class, two days a week. And I live about half hour from, from school. And so I've been getting up every morning, and I've been trying to work out for like 20 minutes. And then I do some journaling for like 20 minutes.
And then I try to do a little bit of learning. I do a little brain game to keep my brain sharp, you know, all of that sort of stuff. Sort of waking up, that's been my routine. And anyway, a couple days after we talked last, one of the prompts that came up on this app that I've been using for journaling and for reflecting in the morning, asked the question of “what are you grateful for?” I mean, which of course, speaking of big broad questions, lots of things, you know, I'm grateful for the fact that I have an apartment that I can almost afford, you know, all of those things. And I have a job and I have health insurance.
But what started pointing out to me as I was writing is that like, one of the things I'm most grateful for is grief. Like I'm really grateful for the grief that I've been through and the grieving that I've gone through, which sounds really marbling. And, and that like, like I'm some person who likes to walk around feeling really miserable and unhappy all the time.
But what started coming out of my writing was just how much I feel like grief has been one of my greatest teachers, because it has reminded me so much about the core of not just who I am, but of what I am. And I feel constantly pulled from that all the time. And as an acting teacher, that's something that I see people get pulled from all the time. And as a corollary to that feeling, I think I see it in my students all the time, the ones who are running from any kind of big experience, like how much people are afraid of having a feeling and feeling a feeling and going through a thing and letting go and getting in touch with the part of us that is wild, you know?
Because it is, it's a wild feeling. Grief is like such a wild feeling. And so, in terms of like the connection between art and grief, I feel like good art does that same thing, you know? And in good theater, I think we go to see a good play or we go to see a good film and we go, oh my God, like I have that in me too, really? Like, yeah, like I can empathize with what they're going through and oh my God, they're doing this crazy thing. You know, you think about some of the situations in the plays that have been classics, you know, forever.
Not forever, but you know, they get done again and again and again and again, you go, okay, let's look at Hamlet or for that matter, Lion King, or for that matter, you know, all of the stories that are like these reminders and modeling of like getting in touch with big stuff. And as I know you're familiar with Larry Silverberg, because I talked about Larry Silverberg a lot when you were in class. And one of the things I remember him saying to me that has really stuck out is that when we go to see a good play, we come out and we talk about the play. When we go and we see a great play, we come out and we talk about our life.
And I feel like that's absolutely right. That when we see something, a truly profound piece of art, it gets us in touch with the parts of ourselves that live outside of the confines of our everyday experience. And grief has done that for me. I think about how losing my brother or losing my dad, so much of my life I've taken them for granted. I took them for granted for the longest time.
And part of that taking for granted is simply that where I am in my life will stay somewhat the same. And going through those losses woke me back up to the fact that things are constantly changing, constantly ebbing and flowing. And as wild and painful as it is, that is the nature of our life. We are going to lose people. We are going to find joy. We are going to have moments of big, profound stuff.
And we will go through it. And to come back to where I started with this question before I launch onto this 20-minute long monologue, that the gratitude that I feel for it, like, reminded me that I could do it, that I could actually do it, that I have it in me, which, honestly, I've kind of been taught to want to forget and, you know, stay in my lane. And when you go through something like that, you can't stay in your lane.
I remember when I... the first big loss that I experienced as, like, an adult living on my own, whatever it was, was... it was pet loss. I lost my cat, Safi, like, really awfully. It was just sort of a completely unexpected thing. And I literally walked out of the emergency vet and, like, fell to my knees, and I screamed, you know? Like, I'm not a person who does that, usually. But that thing made me do it.
It was like, I am wild, you know? Good art, good... It puts us in touch with those wild places. I've been starting to use in my acting classes at school. I'm working on Spoon River right now with my students. Good old Spoon River. Which asks you to wrestle with big, big stuff. I always get so excited with that work. I get so excited with that work. I was getting pumped up and really helping somebody connect to their imaginary circumstance as I do in those classes.
Anyway, a couple days later, in a different class, a different section of the same class, one of my students came in and said, Andrew, I heard that the other day in the other section that you were like, feral. I was like, what does that mean? What does that mean to you? You were just being wild. I'm like, yeah, because guess what?
Good acting is feral, man. Good acting is feral. Good art is feral. It might be refined in the end, but it is our wild human nature channeled through some kind of craft. What a gift that is, you know? What a gift that is to get to do those things and to let that be our art. Most people are really scared of it, but we'll all go through it. Every single one of us will go through it.
HANNAH: Yeah, and it's like, I don't know, in my experience, art has been the only real way in which I can access that feral self, because so much of life, that feral self is not acceptable. In fact, it might even be clinically diagnosed as something, or people are like, okay, that's a bit much. So it's like, okay, so then the only way I can access it is if I am on stage, like when I wrote my one-woman show, that was the only place that I felt like I could actually be 100% honest. And it's just crazy that that's the case.
ANDREW: I wonder, I'm curious, I'm going to turn the tables on you a little bit. Do you find that it's the only place where you feel okay to be that at all or in and around, like in front of and around other people? That's the thing that I am thinking a lot about.
HANNAH: Oh, I see what you mean.
ANDREW: Because the other day I was driving to work and there's this thing that I think is, I mean, it drives me bonkers bananas here, which is there's this like New England, or at least around here, there's this like habit, this driving thing that has become part of the driving culture where no matter what the right of way is, people will politely let people turn left in front when it's not their turn at all, right? When it's not their right of way. And often to the detriment of lines of cars behind them, or they'll often let you go, like you're sitting there waiting to go left and you know, because at least I know as a person who's grown up the way I've driven in my life, that, you know, I wait until there's a spot where I can take a left.
And people all the time stop and like let me turn left. And I'm like, you're not helping anybody because I feel nervous driving in front of you. So anyways, this thing has been happening. So on the way to work the other day, that has been, that happened. And in the confines of my car, I flipped out. I was like, yelling, saying things that I would never say in public around other people. And I'm like, oh, that's an area where I feel okay. This is my little release valve, the hermetically sealed, you know, spot that I'm in driving that I can totally do.
But get me around other people. Get me in the grocery store. I'm like, hi everybody, hello. You know, and that's good, probably, you know. Society needs that. But it does cut us off from those things. So do you feel like outside, that there's any other spaces like by yourself, where you feel able to connect to that?
HANNAH: No, it's a great question. I would say yes with a caveat, because you're so right, like I've also screamed Inside of cars, and you know, that I would not do in front of other people. But I also feel like through channeling art, I was also able to admit things to myself that I would not have been able to admit to myself if I was just journaling or just crying or whatever, because the scaffolding of being like, okay, I'm going to write a play about this or I'm going to write a series of stories about this actually helped me to make connections that I wouldn't have made. So I think it's like a yes and no. Sure. Even by myself, I feel like I needed the art.
ANDREW: Yeah, no, I get that. I mean... So, you know, the play that I sent you, right, that came out of a 24-hour play festival kind of a thing, right? So, like, basically, at like 7 o'clock one night, I drew out of a hat a phrase, a little secret, right? That was basically something that somebody had written and put in a jar. It's sort of like a post-secret thing that we did at a lot of our events over the course of the year, right? That you would, like, write... Anybody could write any secret, put it in a jar, and later on it might be inspiration for a play, was the idea, right?
HANNAH: Wow, that's really cool.
ANDREW: I pulled the thing out, and it was a phrase that I'll get to in a second. And then I was also randomly assigned a number of actors and randomly assigned the actors, right? So I got four actors, and the four actors I got were four young female identifying actors. And then basically I had like five hours to write a script with that. And the prompt was, “sometimes I feel like a ghost.”
That was the secret that somebody put in the jar, right? And so from that, that just interfaced perfectly with those... Like that structure, as you said, that scaffolding right? Then like opened up this particular door for me to channel that stuff that was very much mine. But I wouldn't have gone through and wouldn't have probably processed in the same way, you know? And I think part of that is also the act of sharing it, right? It's like you make art in order to have it heard or seen, right? Again, when it's good, you know? Sometimes it's not at all. And that's okay.
HANANH: And that's okay, yeah. Yeah.
ANDREW: But it's interesting, writing is different than the performing, right?
HANNAH: Oh, totally, yeah.
ANDREW: I mean, when you were writing it, did you find yourself having big experiences?
HANNAH: Yeah, it was kind of like a twofer. So like the writing, you know, gave me a little bit of healing, but it wasn't complete without the performing aspect of it. Yeah, the sharing was huge. That was like a huge part of it that, and I've talked about this before, but like there was a very clear, at least in my mind, a very distinct before and after of who I was as a person, before and after doing that play. Like I felt like a new person because it was an unburdening that might have taken like 10 years of therapy. I mean, like honestly, it was like so effective. I'm like, oh my God, like, wow, I feel so much lighter. It was crazy.
ANDREW: Yeah, that's so interesting because I've been really interested in, part of my job now is teaching in addition to the Meisner work that I teach a lot of and basic acting work and directing and all of that. I also teach basic performance class, which is some of that, but then there's also a lot of like physical and vocal work. So I've been doing a lot of research and sort of remembering from my own time in grad school, like those few moments when I connect vocally or physically to something in an exciting new way.
I'm saying this as I glottal fry and I'm not using my voice very well at all right now, but that act of connecting to voice and body and then sharing something that is yours, like truly yours, like putting yourself, you know, and we do it again, this Spoon River work. It's like when meaning is really there and all of a sudden, there's this like act of expression of that personal private meaning that comes up. I'm convinced that on the other side of it, that there is like a physical change that happens in you, you know, like unlocking of muscles, whatever it happens to be.
And there is, you know, I mean, there is somatic therapy and there is, you know, obviously massage and acupuncture and all these other things that like, I remember once, have you ever heard of Rolfing? Do you know about Rolfing?
HANNAH: Rolling on the floor laughing?”
ANDREW: No. Kind of, that's R-O-F-L, yeah. Rolfing is, there is this person named Ida Rolf who created, essentially, she kind of like Alexander Technique or Feldenkrais, but it's the same, I mean, it's similar in this sort of like return to sort of the body, like the body mechanics that we're born with and unlocking the habitual patterns.
But Rolfing is specifically through myofascial release that is like very, very deep tissue massage. It's like very, very deep massage. I mean, it's not unlike, there's other kinds of massage that do the same thing, but she basically branded it this thing, Rolfing, and there's like a series of like an order and a structure to what she does and what she did.
Anyway, so I was being Rolfed, is what it boils down to, getting this crazy deep tissue massage. One of the things that I've had a number of people say to me when they started doing that work was just be forewarned, it's usually good if you have a therapist while you're going through it. If you have that built into your life as you're going through it.
And as I was like in week three or something, week four of going through this 10-week long thing, which is basically an hour and a half massage, I was like, yeah, I'll be fine. But I had this, the guy was working on my rib cage and I started to have this massive panic attack. And as I, with my eyes closed, I had this wild sort of, I mean, I wouldn't really call it a flashback, but it felt kind of like a flashback.
It was just a strong, strong sense and visual memory of this time when I was like five years old and I accidentally drank a bunch of wine because I thought it was Cherry 7-Up. It looked like Cherry 7-Up and I remember thinking that I was going to go to jail when I was like five because I was drunk. They were like, I'm going to go to jail.
And that was the feeling I had. This was like when I was like 25, you know? And I'm like, wow, that, I haven't thought about that probably since I was six. And whatever that dude just did, whatever rib he just, you know, popped back, whatever, you know, nodule of fascia he just like massaged out of my rib cage, that's where that thing was. You know? And I'm like, oh, your body carries it in that way. You know, I really think it does. On the other side of the performance, did you feel physically different, vocally different?
HANNAH: Yeah, I think so. That's so interesting. And I've had people tell me too, like, since we're on the topic of acting, like, one of my acting teachers, I just, it was just a couple days ago, actually, he helped me film a reel. And I had been in some of his acting classes, and he was like, I feel like something clicked for you, like, as in you seem much more comfortable, like as a person in your body. And I was like, Oh, yeah, like, I feel it too. And it's like people also notice it. And it's just, I mean, I know it's more than just the play. But that was one of the huge things that clicked into place for me was that.
ANDREW: Well, as a teacher, I'll sometimes see it where I'll send somebody out to go emotionally prepare for the top of the scene or whatever it happens to be. And sometimes they'll literally come in looking different. You can actually see it. Which is fascinating. I mean, when I say looking different, I don't mean just like holding their body differently or with a different kind of physical energy. I mean, like, there was this guy I was in grad school with, and this is before I was teaching, and he had a lot of forehead tension.
Like he was like this like constantly like this. And one time he went in and like for the first time really he connected to an emotional circumstance in a big way and came into the room and it was like all of a sudden I could see his eyes. Like for the first time because that tension just kind of went away. It's really cool. It's really interesting. But yeah, so I think and we talked about this a little bit before, but I think grief, bringing back to grief, it is such a physical process.
That's the thing that surprised the hell out of me is how physical it is. Like when I really let myself go through it, I remember feeling like sore, you know, like physically sore and just physically unshackled kind of, you know, because I just, I don't know, like your body sort of knows how to do this stuff. We try to forget, but our body knows how to do it.
And the same thing is true of expression, you know? I mean, somebody said about Pavarotti that in his voice is the sound of a newborn's cry, which I go like, that is so absolutely true. Maybe not, you know, in the frou-frou way that we're thinking about it, but actually he is connected to the sort of expression that like a baby is, you know, we talk about in voice classes all the time that you watch a baby cry, those ribs swing, the, you know, they breathe from the top of their head to the tips of their toes.
And it's this, you know, it's this profound act and they are loud as hell, like loud, loud. There's no, there's no like casual like, it's like, we have to learn that, you know, we have to like learn and be taught to like tamp that down, ask nice, be polite, be, yeah, all of those things. And then, yeah, and then acting, certainly acting, I think is one of the reasons I love acting. It's like it gave me permission to be the most myself, you know.
HANNAH: Oh my gosh, yeah.
ANDREW: And that same thing happens in these, in those moments of grief. It happens in great moments of joy, too. It's not just, it's not just grief. But it's like, again, it's that it's that primal lizard brain, you know, part of us that, you know, it's impulse and it's just so cool to like, to know that we're capable of it.
[END OF PART 1]
HANNAH: I feel like in a lot of ways, I'm going full circle in my life. As I'm finding myself, I'm pretty much going back to childhood in many ways. Like all the things I love to do as a child, I'm now circling back to. Like my sister and I would put on plays, I would write, like all these things. And it's like, and then for 15 years, I did what I thought society wanted me to do. And I'm like, oh wait, actually, those were my most base desires.
Like that's really who I am. And it's just interesting how the world, I don't know, just tries to make us forget or tries to put us in a box or like, I don't know. It's, ugh.
ANDREW: Well, yeah, I mean, we have to, you know, there's a big old philosophical journey we could go on. One of my favorite books in the world is, it's called Ishmael by Daniel Quinn. And it's all about, essentially, the ways that culture are really about sort of perpetuating myths that keep us productive, that keep us sort of locked into work and, you know, agriculture and production and all of those things right?
And one of the things I love about it is that the whole premise of the book is basically a guy looks in the paper and he finds in the paper an article like for somebody seeking a teacher, right? So it says like a teacher wants a student, basically, and like you have to be these things. And this dude shows up to where the article says to show up on the date and like he finds a gorilla, like a silverback gorilla.
And he just sort of stands and looks through the window at the cage and the gorilla starts teaching him. And that's the whole premise of the book, is that the gorilla is essentially his teacher and teaching him these lessons about culture and about what we've forgotten, you know? And it's a really, I mean, it's a lot about hunter-gatherer and sort of the rise of agriculture and the way that that influenced us anthropologically and all of those things. But we learn those lessons so quick and so early. And like we fit into the box.
But as an acting teacher, one of the things that's fascinating to see is that the best actors naturally are kids and old people. I swear to God, it's absolutely true. It's like once you hit like 14, you get bad, you know? You get self-conscious. You know, you get obsessed with how you look and how you are being perceived and liked or not liked. And then like you live that way for most of your life. And then you get into your 60s, 70s, whatever it is. You know what? Whatever. I don't care anymore. And then all of a sudden, you're a good actor again because you have connection to that stuff.
And of course, you have history and you have, you know. But again, I'm convinced probably you're, you know, from 12, 13 years old, you start holding yourself physically differently. You watch a kid play versus watching a 15, 16 year old play. You know, it's so much less careful when you're a kid, you know.
HANNAH: Yeah. Like when you mentioned like a baby's cry. And last time we talked, we talked about keening. And how like at most like Western funerals, it's very polite crying, you know, hushed tones. And I know I mentioned to you like at my friend's funeral, I had to lock my body so tight because I had to be quiet, right? So I have never been so like clenched from head to toe in my entire life.
And just I have this desire and I still have it because I still haven't really found a place to do it. I mean, I guess like through art, but like also I just like want to, I have this desire to like run around. This is what I'm seeing in my head. I don't know why a bonfire is involved. I don't know why, but I want to run around a bonfire and just scream. And with other people too, like just all of us screaming.
And that is like a very primal desire inside of me. And I literally can't do that. Like there's no, unless I go into the wilderness and build a, but that's kind of hard to do.
ANDREW: Have I got the place for you? There is this, I swear to God, I'm not making this up. Friends of Susanna and mine, we were living in North Carolina. They invited us to this thing. That is, I swear, it's on the land that this couple owns and it's called the Sacred Fire. And it is a big fire that they hold regular, sort of, you just sit around this campfire.
But we went this one night and it was this place where we ended up, certainly me, certainly Susanna, but other people really expressed this, I mean, lots of, there was a couple of big losses that people were going through and a couple of big, and did it in ways that, again, they would not be allowed to do at Walmart. You know what I mean?
And that they would get on, they would get recorded and the police called, you know. So, go to Asheville, go to Asheville, North Carolina, I'll put you in touch. There's literally a website. It's like, I think it's Sacred Fire Asheville. I think you can go and see. And the whole thing is like this. It is some extension, I shouldn't say the whole thing. That's simplifying it. But a big part of it is just like the, that nature of like primal fire.
I, you ever see that? There's a picture that floats around the internet all the time of like, there's this house that is literally on this big green rock in the middle of the sea. And it's like the loneliest house in the world, you know? It's like literally what they say, it's the loneliest house in the world. And it's this little house on what, you know, there's no roads, no nothing. It's just a big moss covered rock in the sea.
And I look at that and I go like, I can do that for a little bit, you know? I can do that for a bit. And just if I didn't have to care at all about anybody seeing me, hearing me, anything, I could, I could come back six months later and be like, no, I'm cool. I'm integrated. There you go. I'm back in the world, you know? I totally empathize with that and agree with that. It's, there is something about that need, you know? We really, we do need that.
HANNAH: Yeah. I think the reason my brain, my imagination is creating a fire is literally because that is like a metaphor for like the fire that needs to be like released. I don't know.
ANDREW: There is, I don't know. It's trans-rational. It doesn't make sense. But it doesn't have to because...How much of existence doesn't make sense? And society wants it to make sense. And then there is a kind of loss of sense that happens. And that we need. I think that we need. We need to lose sense.
Not to get all, it sounds like we're planning it, but we do lose sense. When we see good art, when we see, when we go through these big experiences, we're not thinking about what sense we're making of it. We're just experiencing and going through it. And how we're perceived or whatever, we be damned. So much of what I do as an acting teacher is just getting people to stop looking at themselves, trying to do it right. Because you can't do it right if you're trying to do it right.
You have to listen and respond and let go and lose control and trust that your instincts and a little bit of craft. But most of the craft is about how you let yourself let go. When you're acting, you're not thinking about acting. You're just in that space where you are nonsensical, but you remember your words and you are doing the blocking. But within that structure, there's chaos. And that's the magic of it.
HANNAH: I want to live more like that. I want to live a little more chaotically. Obviously, within the confines of the law. If I live too chaotically, that could be bad.
ANDREW: But that's why the law exists. I mean, that's the thing, right? That's one of the laws. It's got to be universal, because otherwise there wouldn't be laws. You know? It's like, you know, we all have it, because otherwise we'd just be like, you know what? That car looks cool. Let's drive it like we stole it. Let's steal it, you know? And we do it. But not saying steal cars, anybody. But there is something like, it's seductive, but it's also, it's not seductive because it's wrong, it's seductive because it's the most human. It's the most human stuff. It's our instincts. It's our impulses.
It's the... I always feel like, you've heard me say this before, but I'll just say it here that one of the things I always think about as an acting teacher is that, you know, I can't get people to be consistently good all the time. Because they're going to leave and then they're going to have to hone their craft and they're going to have to do it on their own. They're going to have to figure it out. But I feel like if I, as your acting teacher, get you to connect to the meaning of what you're saying and to the meaning of yourself and emotionally and responsive to a partner or partners one time, just one time, then you're officially a trained actor because you'll chase that the rest of your life because there's nothing like it. To be in the moment and to be fully expressive of that big stuff is it's like you get reminded of the mystery of your existence in doing it the mystery of our existence and then you're hooked.
People talk about the acting bug. That's the acting bug. It's not about the applause. The applause is really cool and nice and everything. That's great. Affirmation is awesome. The real acting bug is being present to the most full and being in dialogue with the mystery. This giant mystery that we're all a part of but we have to shut down from all the time. In our art and in our grieving and in our big feelings like there it is again.
HANNAH: Yeah. I kind of see it as like I'm imagining that in life we're unplugged. Sometimes even for survival we have to be a little bit of unplugged. And then through acting work you plug back in. And I do feel like that leaks out into your real life. From my experience with improv and also Meisner, which is all about really connecting to emotions and imaginary circumstances, that has helped me to connect to the big emotions better.
Instead of hide from them. Because literally the quote unquote assignment is to take however many minutes and connect to this big emotion as deeply as you can. And usually in life you're like, how can I avoid this emotion as much as I can?
ANDREW: Or how can I work through it in a socially acceptable way? And part of that is acting class. Acting is not acting is not therapy, but there is some therapeutic side of it.
HANNAH: Oh yeah, totally.
ANDREW: Because again it's like that act of remembering. It really is that act of remembering. I spent most of my life really scared of losing anybody. First, I was really scared. I thought I was going to lose a grandparent, or I thought, and then I lost a grandparent. And I was like, oh, I can, I did it. I did it. And it was really hard.
But then, the grandparent can integrate back into your own life and sort of fall back asleep because it's, you know, you're not around your grandparents all the time. At least I wasn't around my grandparents all the time. But then, when you go through like a loss of somebody, like my brother, for example, even though I wasn't around him all the time, he had lived in Chicago when he passed away.
And I was there and or a beloved animal or a partner or whatever it happens to be, right? It's like every day, it's there every day. And as hard as it is, and I feel like when my brother died in particular, I tried really hard to forget it again, you know? Like I tried really hard to sort of forget it again and go back into that smallness of my understanding of how life was working and you know, step back into that. But as I said before, it's such a physical process and such an out of control process. Like I'm not in the driver's seat, you know, I wasn't in the driver's seat for it and it really did.
I woke up the day I was like, that I turned 37, which was the age my brother was when he died, you know? And I woke up and just in my head, that was the thing that I kept asking myself was if I only had a year left, like would that, would my brother be proud of where I was and what I was doing? And like that thought, totally instinctual, bubbled up in me and it like literally made me change everything about my life in order to be more present to it, you know?
Not present to any one thing in particular, but to life, is to be present to life and all of the things that are in it. So bringing it all full circle, that's the thing I'm grateful for, you know? I'm not wishing grief upon anybody. But we learn so much when we let ourselves be present to those knocks on the door, you know? And I always think that it's, you know, again, the art big moments of feeling like this. There are knocks on the door.
There are knocks on the door of us, like the core of us. And it's nice to know that like something will knock, you know? Something will knock. It's how we answer it that matters.