I’m asking veteran local actors to name five dream roles and say why. The answers not only reveal aspirations, they may put an idea in the minds of artistic directors and producers – even choices that might seem out of the box.
“So here’s my list. Yikes! It’s such a vulnerable feeling, yet incredibly freeing!”
1.) Duchess of Berwick, Lady Windermere’s Fan, by Oscar Wilde. “I’m always excited to dive into a period piece, which I would love to see more of in S.D. The time and effort an actor has to put in when doing period work must be deep and complete in order to pull it off flawlessly — and not just slide into our pit of tricks in a giant bustle and ridiculous amount of lace. I love the Duchess because as a very manipulative woman she thrives on the pettiness of high society. She is sort of that ‘all-knowing fool’ in the piece.”
2.) King Lear, by William Shakespeare. “Bringing him to life from a female point of view intrigues me. I played Regan in a production at NYC but kept coming back to the question, ‘What if I could play Lear?’ That 20 year old passion hasn’t dissipated. He is powerful, yet broken, strong, yet incredibly vulnerable. All-knowing yet very childlike and helpless by the end. And you can’t hide from Shakespeare’s text. It reveals everything. If you are true to his words, there are no gimmicks, no shortcuts. I would love to have the chance to do my homework.”
3.) Carol, The Great Pretender, by David West Read. “A young playwright deserving attention. I did a staged reading for the Old Globe New Voices Festival in 2013 and am dying to get my hands on Carol in a fully realized production. She’s rude, audacious, outspoken, brazen, and daring, yet extremely vulnerable when least expected. She has a monologue that’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever read. ‘I will play Carol,’ I told the universe last year when I re-read it in my kitchen. ‘The opportunity will happen.’ This monologue’s too freaking good to just sit on the page!”
4.) Kirsten Arnesen Clay, The Days of Wine and Roses, by J.P. Miller. “She’s sexy and powerful at the beginning, but ends up incredibly disconsolate and broken due to alcoholism. The realism is so painfully authentic I have a great longing for her to overcome her demons. I think everyone can relate in some way to addiction. Either you have fought demons yourself and/or know others who are fighting their own cruelties. It’s palpable in the piece and it doesn’t matter that it was written in 1958. It still rings true today.”
5.) Hortense Daigle, The Bad Seed, by Maxwell Anderson. “She’s the mother of Claude Daigle, a boy murdered by eight-year-old Rhoda Penmark. Hortense is just the shell of a woman. Fragile, damaged, her heart out for all to see. Actors talk about the ‘meaty’ roles, the strong characters that will showcase their range. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy getting ahold of them as well. But I find it more interesting to play someone who is truly broken and not strong, someone you’d pass on the street without notice. People who have shoved down who they are and the pain they actually need to release. And it’s such a well-written play you can just do your work. The more you simplify the more the audience gets to see the shell crack and break in half, watching the person unravel before their eyes.”
I’m asking veteran local actors to name five dream roles and say why. The answers not only reveal aspirations, they may put an idea in the minds of artistic directors and producers – even choices that might seem out of the box.
“So here’s my list. Yikes! It’s such a vulnerable feeling, yet incredibly freeing!”
1.) Duchess of Berwick, Lady Windermere’s Fan, by Oscar Wilde. “I’m always excited to dive into a period piece, which I would love to see more of in S.D. The time and effort an actor has to put in when doing period work must be deep and complete in order to pull it off flawlessly — and not just slide into our pit of tricks in a giant bustle and ridiculous amount of lace. I love the Duchess because as a very manipulative woman she thrives on the pettiness of high society. She is sort of that ‘all-knowing fool’ in the piece.”
2.) King Lear, by William Shakespeare. “Bringing him to life from a female point of view intrigues me. I played Regan in a production at NYC but kept coming back to the question, ‘What if I could play Lear?’ That 20 year old passion hasn’t dissipated. He is powerful, yet broken, strong, yet incredibly vulnerable. All-knowing yet very childlike and helpless by the end. And you can’t hide from Shakespeare’s text. It reveals everything. If you are true to his words, there are no gimmicks, no shortcuts. I would love to have the chance to do my homework.”
3.) Carol, The Great Pretender, by David West Read. “A young playwright deserving attention. I did a staged reading for the Old Globe New Voices Festival in 2013 and am dying to get my hands on Carol in a fully realized production. She’s rude, audacious, outspoken, brazen, and daring, yet extremely vulnerable when least expected. She has a monologue that’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever read. ‘I will play Carol,’ I told the universe last year when I re-read it in my kitchen. ‘The opportunity will happen.’ This monologue’s too freaking good to just sit on the page!”
4.) Kirsten Arnesen Clay, The Days of Wine and Roses, by J.P. Miller. “She’s sexy and powerful at the beginning, but ends up incredibly disconsolate and broken due to alcoholism. The realism is so painfully authentic I have a great longing for her to overcome her demons. I think everyone can relate in some way to addiction. Either you have fought demons yourself and/or know others who are fighting their own cruelties. It’s palpable in the piece and it doesn’t matter that it was written in 1958. It still rings true today.”
5.) Hortense Daigle, The Bad Seed, by Maxwell Anderson. “She’s the mother of Claude Daigle, a boy murdered by eight-year-old Rhoda Penmark. Hortense is just the shell of a woman. Fragile, damaged, her heart out for all to see. Actors talk about the ‘meaty’ roles, the strong characters that will showcase their range. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy getting ahold of them as well. But I find it more interesting to play someone who is truly broken and not strong, someone you’d pass on the street without notice. People who have shoved down who they are and the pain they actually need to release. And it’s such a well-written play you can just do your work. The more you simplify the more the audience gets to see the shell crack and break in half, watching the person unravel before their eyes.”
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