Am I an actor who writes, or a writer who acts?

That question weighed on my mind so many times this past year. I would sit in my office at Flyer News and think about all the fun I could be having at rehearsals, goofing off with my fellow actors. Or I’d be in a rehearsal, wanting to get the hell out of there so I could be back in the office, whipping together (well, partially whipping together) another A&E section. This year, I was responsible for 39 editions of Flyer pages 6 and 7, and more often than not, they were labors of love.

It wasn’t all a bed of roses, of course. I can’t even count the times I wanted to walk out of that office for good. During 24 tense hours in early November, I was prepared to resign my position. I had sources flake out on me, articles get aborted the day of a deadline, and even just good old fashioned burn out. But there were also evenings where we all sat in news editor Anna Beyerle’s office, ate dinner, and laughed.

These people — Sara Green, Jacqui, Anna, Claire, Maggie, Hannah, Jacob, Rebecca. Brady, Dan, DL, many others – they were my family these past eight months. Even when I didn’t want one. Especially when I did want one. As much as I wanted to get out of that office, I would give just about everything for one more year, one more issue.

In many ways, I’m rather selfish. I had the love and support of a second family. The actors, writers and directors at UD. In case anyone wondered, I was a biased editor, working my damndest to get a story (or at least a mention) of every production put on in the Boll and Studio theatres. All, of course, except for “The Wedding Guests,” my other labor of love.

To the actors who made such an impression on me this year. To the productions that meant something — “Bits of Broadway,” “The Diviners,” “The UD Monologues,” “Rabbit Hole,” so many others — I have nothing more to say but thanks. We didn’t have to work that hard to make you sound good.

Last night, Saturday, April 9, marked my final performance in Boll Theatre. The graduating seniors wrote special messages to the underclassmen, and we all got to look at messages from as old as 1977. Among the many things I wrote was something that I think applies to both my friends at Flyer News and the UD acting community:

“To whoever comes next.”

The final result: actor and writer. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Seetha, it’s all yours.

[Part two of a three-part finale]

I was nothing as an editor without my stable of writers. Despite some misgivings and hiccups throughout the year, they really have been proven themselves time and time again with consistently strong work. I won’t be able to thank everybody, but a few names must be highlighted.

Sara Green – my right hand lady. Sara had the un-enviable task of being on call for any piece that got turned down, as well as having to create the Art Drop, a section that was never guaranteed a place in any issue (and only in the print edition). She passed with flying colors, and I’m proud to have worked with her.

Brady Ashe – A&E’s loss is the Sports section’s gain. You’ll get writer who perpetually turns things in early, comes up with better sources than the ones I suggested, and knows AP style like the back of his hand. Bravo!

Daniel Whitford – my lead writer, and one of the best turnaround stories of the year. After a brief hiatus, Daniel returned to A&E with a more polished style and a willingness to go more in depth on pieces. Thank you!

Gina Gerhart – another great sport of a writer, who adapted very well to mine and Jacqui Boyle’s demands, turning in increasingly creative and wonderful pieces that combined a personal stamp with the “house style.”

Star Like Me – this section was my “baby,” and I couldn’t be a prouder parent. Nearly every UD production was covered, and the range of material (from character research to backstage tensions) was astounding.

Ashley Pantona Price – a newcomer to Flyer News, Ashley also showed great adaptability and a willingness not only to throw herself into her pieces, but also towards giving the reader a vivid story.

Jackie, Kate, Emily and Amy – our food reviewers, who managed to make ever one of their monthly pieces just as succulent as the food they ate. Bon appetit, girls!

Alex Chilton – I have a special affinity for film reviews, and Alex’s, although wordy, always had so much to say and really captured the feel of so many exciting movies. I hope he’ll continue with them. I know he will.

And a special tip of my hat to the many other writers and contributors to the 2010-11 A&E section.  I love you all!

Stay tuned for issue 39′s blog post, “Divided I Stood.”

Dear Readers,

This is the first of a three-part series of goodbye blog posts.

elitism — noun, consciousness of or pride in belonging to a select or favored group.

One of the things I’ve noticed this year in particular was how chameleon-like I’ve been. The me that hung out in the Music and Theatre Building was radically different from the me chatting up KU Cafeteria workers.  One of the few common threads, however, was my underlying strain of elitism.  To many, like those nuts who want eliminate NPR and PBS funding, elitism is a sin, a segregation of people, whether it be by intellect or ability to understand an in-joke.

When it comes to me, they’re absolutely right.  On any given day, half of what I say/write isn’t understood by the person I’m talking to.  To some, this would be the opportunity to deride their companion.  To me, it’s actually quite sad.  I want so much to be understood, but not enough to hang up my fancy wordplay.

And thus, the problem: how do I stay a card-carrying elitist and still be understood as a writer? Still trying to work that one out.

There’s a monologue I love so much, from Tom Stoppard’s “The Real Thing.”  In it, playwright Henry tries to explain why he considers writing something that only few (an elite) can do:

“This [cricket bat] here, which looks like a wooden club, is actually several pieces of particular wood cunningly put together in a certain way so that the whole thing is sprung, like a dance floor. It’s for hitting cricket balls with. If you get it right, the cricket ball will travel two hundred yards in four seconds, and all you’ve done is give it a knock like knocking the top off a bottle of stout, and it makes a noise like a trout taking a fly.

“What we’re trying to do is write cricket bats, so that when we throw up an idea and give it a little knock it might travel… [He clucks his tongue and picks up Brodie's script.] Now, what we’ve got here is a lump of wood of roughly the same shape trying to be a cricket bat, and if you hit a ball with it, the ball will travel about ten feet and you will drop the bat and dance about shouting ‘Ouch!’ with your hands stuck into your armpits. [indicating the cricket bat] This isn’t better because someone says it’s better, or because there’s a conspiracy by the MCC to keep cudgels out of Lords. It’s better because it’s better.

“You don’t believe me, so I suggest you go out to bat with this and see how you get on. [he reads] ‘You’re a strange boy, Billy, how old are you?’ ‘Twenty, but I’ve lived more than you’ll ever live.’ Ooh, ouch! [He drops the script and hops about with his hands in his armpits.]”

Of course, what do I know?  Maybe this year’s A&E section has been just lumps of wood.

Stay tuned for next week’s blog post, “Goodbye, Writers”:

Dear Readers,

Last Friday, the revival of “Chicago,” playing in New York since 1996 and currently at the Ambassador Theatre, became the fifth longest-running production and longest-running revival on Broadway.  As a longtime fan of the show, I thought it would be fun to explain why I love it so much:

1. That score!

The writing team of John Kander (music) and Fred Ebb (lyrics) turned out a real winner with “Chicago.”  From “Loopin’ the Loop,” the Overture (“A-5-6-7-8!”), to the “Hot Honey Rag,” Kander’s songs, pastiches of 1920s music styles,  has an attitude that tells the listener, “Hey, you better pay attention.”  And Ebb’s lyrics match the music flawlessly.  Listen to “We Both Reached for the Gun,” and marvel at how much is conveyed with constant call and response between “Roxie” and the reporters, and the repetition of “The Gun.”

2. The Wit

“Chicago” is a damn funny show built on a funny concept: Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly’s obsessive quest for fame.  From there, nothing is sacred: not the American justice system, not marriage, not show business itself.  There are YouTube clips of the late Jerry Orbach performing his opening number, “All I Care About,” and the number just drips with sarcasm.  But for my money, one of the funniest lines comes from Velma Kelly, listening to coverage of Roxie’s performance at her trial:

“She stole my garter!”

3. The Staging

As everyone and his sister knows, the original production of “Chicago” was directed and choreographed by Bob Fosse. Fosse’s style is, for lack of a better word, highly distinct, and “Chicago,” I’d say, is his masterpiece. Nobody else could have done this show, and if they wanted to, we wouldn’t like it as much.  That matching of dance step to music to lyric is astonishing.  Try to think of “All That Jazz” without imagining the choreography — it’s a fool’s errand.

4. The Recordings

If you’re so inclined, you have your choice of the Original Broadway Cast, the Revival Broadway Cast, the London Cast, or the Film Soundtrack.  Should you want a visual, there’s the 2002 film with Renee Zellweger, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Richard Gere.  Clearly, this is a show that left enough evidence of its brilliance for future generations.

Then again, “In fifty years or so, it’s gonna change, you know.”

Dear Readers,

I’d like to talk a little about fame.  I don’t think of myself as a famous person.  People know who I am, but that’s because they’re friends of mine, not necessarily because they’ve seen me on stage or read my work for Flyer.  Still, because I present myself as an actor and a writer whenever I meet new people, I’ve somehow managed to create an image of myself as famous.

Did you ever see the movie “Soapdish”?  There’s a scene where Whoopi Goldberg takes soap opera star Sally Field to a shopping mall in New Jersey, because she knows she’ll draw a crowd of eager and loving fans.  I’ve had moments like that.  I walk into KU, and the way the cashiers smile at me, ask if I’m doing a new show, talking about how they want to go see it — for a while, I’m famous.

Last Monday, I was in rehearsals for “Smoke.”  We ran Act One, where my big moments are.  I get to feign sleeping and then get in the spirit during a hymn.  These are great non-verbal moments, and I’m grateful to director Gina Kleesattel for coming up with them for me.  For creating my part, actually.  I’m not included in the script, but Gina wanted to create the experience of an actual Baptist church (and its Amen Corner of elders).

Anyway, Gina praised my moments in her notes for that night, then trumped herself: “I would go to the show just to see Frank.”

My face said it all, but it’s not enough.  To have a forum for my talent, or even a forum to develop a talent, surrounded by co-workers and peers I respect, and a healthy level of love and support from friends (hell, fans!).

Well, then and only then am I a famous person.

I had my brushes with stardom, and maybe I’ll have some more.  But the truth is, I look at stardom like I look at a fortune and a spouse.  It’d be great if I had one, but I’m not doing so bad without it.

Come to the show.  We open Friday, April 1.  Posters will be up soon.

Dear Readers,

If the walls of the dance studio and classroom at the Music and Theatre Building could talk … they wouldn’t.  They’d be too busy laughing at all the antics I and my fellow actors in “Smoke on the Mountian” and “The Spot” have had.

Friday was “Smoke’s” stumble through, or first run of the show minus scripts.  For the most part, it went well. There were the usual callings for lines/prompts, but nobody really embaressed him or herself.  My on-stage wife, Alicia Norris, however, was convinced she’d be chewed out for arriving late from her home in Yellow Springs.  Au contraire — we laughed about it, and during my big scene, I got to stretch out onto her chair.

That same night was the premiere of “Full Circle: Split Personality.”  The sketch comedy was excellent as ever, the individual scenes were a welcome addition, and no one actor dominated the night (although Steven “Jojo” Ahlrichs noted that all his high-energy sketches were chosen one after the other for a long time).  As I told Alex Chilton, I gave the evening a 3.5 out of 4 overall, and a 4 out of 4 for Full Circle.

After that, I attended Grace Stratton’s “Seven Deadly Sins” birthday party.  Since I have red towels and a lot of chutzpah, I took one, wrapped it around my underwear-clad body, strapped myself in with belts across my chest and waist, and went as “barely-contained lust.”  I was initially shy about going with something so revealing, but I remembered that I performed a monologue last year about being proud of my body. And that I’m a senior and have nothing else to prove.

The party was a big hit, and I just know Grace got to be belle of the ball.  Not bad for “envy.”

Finally, Saturday afternoon was a rehearsal for “The Spot.”  Our director, Mary Mykytka, threw it all to the wind today, and let us read through the script in silly voices (I was southern; Lauren Haner was breathy), then as fast (but enunciated) as possible.  It was a real morale boost, and I just know it’s going to help us bond as a group.

A reminder — “Rabbit Hole” debuts Friday, March 25, at 8 p.m. in the Black Box Theatre, Room 137 of the Music and Theatre Building.

Dear Readers,

This past few days have been a period of re-awakening for me. Once again, I find myself not caring as much for little things, like doing laundry or getting eight hours of sleep, not when I can spend the time creating characters like Wagner, my role in “The Spot,” and Mortimer, my role in “Smoke on the Mountain.”

I spent Sunday morning in rehearsal with “The Spot,” taking my director, Mary Mykytka’s notes and making someone more than a caricature.  As he stands now, Wagner/Me is a veteran commercial director who has compromised many times in the past.  It’s not going to be obvious on stage, but I really like the idea that this guy has never eaten anything that wasn’t room service in the past five years.

Along the way Sunday, I watched my fellow actors breathe life into their roles.  Tim Sack is a gentle, fun to be around fella, but he can intimidate the hell out of you (like he does with Ashley Stoetzl’s “Betsy”) on the turn of a dime.  Steven “Jojo” Ahlrichs and I have begun an entertaining double act.  He is the rookie cop to my veteran, and I know that in a few weeks time, we’ll have that character dynamic down pat.

Now I must learn my lines.

I have no actual lines in “Smoke on the Mountain,” which I went into rehearsals for Monday night.  Just some singing in four numbers, and a lot of reactions.  I also get a great bit of non-verbal action in the midst of “The Blood Medley.” No spoilers — come down to Boll Theatre starting Friday, April 1, and find out.

Me and my scene partners — Alicia Norris (as my wife, Mildred), Anna Betsch (Miss Myrtle), and Emily Smith (Miss Maude) make up the Amen Corner, a collection of church-going folk with some extreme opinions.  Once again, the challenge is not to present caricatures, but real people.  And that’s (A) funnier, and (B) harder.

This week, for instance, we reacted to a sad song (sung by my roommate, James “Hounddog” Benze) by sobbing profusely.  Funny, yes.  But will it make it to the premiere?  Who knows?

Still, we’re all richer for trying things out.

Dear Readers,

Just before midterm break, I received my script for “The Spot,” the one act play I’m featured in. I play Wagner, who according to the script notes, is “Director of ‘The Spot.’ Khaki pants, black turtleneck. Fashionable glasses. An auteur.”

As you can see, the character description is limited, allowing me and director Mary Mykytka the chance to play around with different ideas.  Over break, I did some homework and came up with some quirks:

– I thought Wagner was younger than “Chumley,” the character played by Steven Ahlrichs. Mary said no, he’s actually younger and looks up to me. This ruled out my idea that Wagner and Chumley were, on some level, rivals jockeying for power/favor with Roger (Tim Sack).

– On the other hand, it does keep Wagner from being too much of a caricature. Mary’s direction has already told me that Wagner is someone in the film industry, who’s worthy of respect. The script calls me an “auteur,” or a director who takes a highly personal approach to filmmaking. Because of this, I’ve been doing homework watching directors be interviewed/on the set.

– One thing I’ve noticed is many directors seem to think their vision of America is 100 percent correct and unique. During the show, Roger rattles off a list of statistics and buzzwords. I see myself as nodding in agreement, thinking, “Yes … YES … this is what it’s all about.” So far, Mary likes this idea, but we’ll see how it plays.

– I’ve also decided to play my scenes with Betsy (Ashley “Pretzel” Stoetzl) as though I have a crush on her. Not overwhelming, just a simple crush. Conversely, I’ve decided to play my scenes with my assistant Gloria (Lauren Haner) as though I respect her, but I’m jealous of her getting so much attention from Roger.  When she yells, “QUIET ON THE SET,” I yell “ACTION” twice as loud.

More word from the set to come soon!  We actually don’t start rehearsals until the weekend of March 11, so I’ll have plenty of time for homework.

Dear Readers,

Tuesday night was auditions for “One Acts,” a collection of seven short plays (including one I wrote) that will debut at the Black Box, Room 137 of the Music and Theatre building, the weekend of April 15. On the advice of a wise friend, I’ve decided to share my tips for and thoughts during auditions.

First of all, be on time! With the exception of last night (when I was editing pieces for Flyer), I’m always 15-20 minutes early. It doesn’t get me an audition side (short scene to read from) earlier, but it does help to clear my mind and get me focused on how to sell the character.

I do very little character work before my auditions — if I read the script beforehand, it’s only once. To me, an audition depends on freshness, and if I’m too comfortable, I get sloppy. Volume goes out the window and diction is shot, and I act way too casual.

Which brings me to another point: go outside your comfort zone.

I’ve been told I’m funny (although I’d say it depends more on a good script), but after weeks of “The Wedding Guests,” I was in the mood to shout.  When I finally stood before the seven one-act directors, I read a selected dramatic monologue, where the character of Harold, who framed a man, delivers an extended chess metaphor. It was exciting to show some range.

After my audition, I waited with several other actors to see if I’d be “called back,” and asked to read for a specific show.  This brings me to my next point: courtesy is key.

Auditions are highly clique-y situations, and at the same time, they’re rather like a family reunion. I saw people like Lindsay Sunderhaas, who I hadn’t seen in months. I played a few rounds of Hangman, chatted about shows to take a boyfriend to, and generally procrastinated. It was heaven, and it helped keep my mind off whether or not I’d get a call back.

As it turns out, I did get a callback, for Mary Mykytka’s “The Spot.” I read only once, for the role of Watson, a highly hands-on film director creating a political announcement. Mary said I could go right after I read, and so I did, convinced I wouldn’t be cast.

I was wrong. I am in “The Spot,” as Watson.

Stay tuned for part two: “Actor at Work”

Dear Readers,

Yet again, there were dual casting announcements for UD Theatre productions.  The week of Monday, Feb. 14, Studio Theatre announced the casting for “Full Circle,” it’s twice-a-year sketch comedy evening, and “Rabbit Hole,” a play about griveing parents.

This spring’s “Full Circle” will combine a reduced cast of sketch players with a small group of actors performing showcase pieces ranging from musical numbers to Shakerpearian scenes.  A full list of the non-sketch scenes wasn’t available, but Flyer News will publish the information soon.

“Full Circle’s” sketch cast:

Steven Ahlrichs

Alex Cole

John Skarzynski

Bill Weger

Steve Kallenberg

Margie Powell

Alex Chilton

“Full Circle” will premiere at 8 p.m. Friday, Mar. 18, in Room 137 of the Music and Theatre Building.

Soon after, “Rabbit Hole,” a drama directed by senior Grace Stratton, and the final project of seniors Chris Poeschl and Bernadette Rose, will premiere.  “Rabbit Hole” is about Becca (Rose) and Howie (Poeschl) picking up the pieces after the death of their son, Danny.

Others in the cast are senior Katie Power as Becca’s sister, Izzy, and juniors Kiersten Manifold and Charlie Brown as Becca’s mother, Nat, and Jason, a teenage boy.  “Rabbit Hole” marks Power and Brown’s first Studio Theatre project since December 2009′s “Won Axs.”

The cast of “Rabbit Hole” is being courted to write Star Like Me entries for Flyer News.