Shawn Telford
He has gone from driving raving lunatics in his cab to rave reviews as Vincent van Gogh at ACT . . .
As he'll be the first to tell you (scream at you!), Telford is far from rich and famous, but the once-struggling fringe actor, now armed with a degree and connections from the UW's Professional Actor Training Program, seems to be getting steady work at the big houses. He went from Vincent to Intiman's Grapes of Wrath.
Because of the good and increasingly familiar relationship between the UW and ACT, I was called in for the audition. I was told to prepare for Vincent but to also be prepared to read for Sam, we would “see how it goes”. I got the sides, found a copy of the full script and began researching the dialect right away. I was told that it was very important to arrive at the audition with an idea of the Dutch accent because it was important for Vincent to sound unlike the world he was in. In, short, he needed to sound different. I immediately took to learning a Dutch accent. . . .As much as I could, I spoke with a Dutch accent, much to the annoyance of my friends and perhaps the peripheral people like anyone who came in contact with me: cashiers, bartenders, hostesses, phone solicitors... Also, I learned all of the sides cold. I made distinct choices, all based on the text and I began reading “Dear Theo” a collection of letters from Vincent to his brother Theo. The sides were really 3 complete scenes, which we worked at the audition. For the first audition, Kurt worked with me on the first scene, three times. He told me then and there that he would call me back, though he didn’t know when those would be. It ended up being about 3 weeks. In the meantime, I continued to assimilate the information.
Give up this dream? When? There was a time when I was cab driving in Seattle... Maybe after my second time auditioning for the PATP, (I had auditioned once before, several years before this, not quite as seriously as I had the second time, By then, I needed it more, I wanted it more...) I said to myself as I drove my taxi down 45th, “I can’t do this forever. This is too much time on my ass, really, how long can this be satisfying? “ The answer was “Well, what else are you going to do?” I couldn’t think of a Goddamn thing. I had done years and years in various offices, including all kinds of movie and rock and roll types of things that should have satisfied me but didn’t. The bottom line is that I couldn’t do anything else. I had an insatiable appetite for creativity, and human learning, not just learning things like physics and molecular biology but true human interactions—cause and effect, consequence, the nature of love, hate, God and self-pity, the thin lines between imagination, creativity, memory, truth and all these God Damn stories that floated through my head while I drove that taxi through nights and nights and nights... With drunks, hookers, strippers, pimps, tourists, priests, people of all ages, ranges and experiences, people who would talk and talk and talk, and those that won’t.... It all seemed to be going somewhere. Everything seemed to be going somewhere, everyone seemed to be going somewhere...except for me. Until, I was finally excepted into the UW’s PATP. The third time is the charm.
The worst moment is every time I think of how blind this community is . . .
(read Telford's full RANT)
Playing a historical character that everyone thinks they know. When in fact, most people know legends from the final four years of his life. He lived much more than that—37 years in fact. There was a whole life that lead up to that mythology that we all know: the ear, the insanity. He was a young boy, he was born, he lived, he had sisters, brothers, he had a first bite of an apple, he had a first sexual experience, he had to learn to draw, paint, he became who he was. He followed a path, something that seemed inconsequential at the time but was a manifestation of his fate that drew him inexorably to the man we think we know today... So I had to let all of that go, all of those pre-conceived notions, those ideas, those myths, legends and embrace a small, isolated time of his life that we know relatively little about.
Go to ACT’s once a month generals and the TPS auditions. Get on Performer’s Callboard, see as much theatre as you can. Get involved, do staged readings, volunteer, audition. You’re not an actor if you’re not acting. And, please, self produce. If you’ve got a story to tell, tell it. Never wait for them to find you because they won’t. Act, write, study, if you’re not doing something, you’re not doing it for a reason, maybe you’re not an actor. Quit telling yourself that you are and get on with your life. Acting isn’t ideas, it’s doing, so go do it.
Lastly, there’s no money in this. If money is important to you, think again. You’ll be paid in other ways, people will applaud your work every day, not like a teacher or a nurse or a concrete pourer, all of whom make more money than you. Yes, even teachers. Sad, isn’t it?