Comments for The Valley of the Shadow of Arts Death

Comment on Innergaze: The Introverted Playwright by Liz Maestri

Liz Maestri — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 03:03:22 +0000

This is why I’m thankful for you, EG.

Oh and: “But David, it’s nice to have reassurance of the ‘once people are relating to your work it doesn’t matter’ idea. I kind of believed that, but it’s nice to see it confirmed by someone else.” THIS. As you know, I kind of don’t believe that, but I’d like to be more in your & David’s camp soon.

Comment on Innergaze: The Introverted Playwright by egoetschius

egoetschius — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 02:33:07 +0000

I’m honestly not sure where I fall on the intro/extro-vert spectrum. If I’m in a crowd where there are several people with whom I’m comfortable, I’m at ease meeting new people. If it’s a group where I feel uneasy with my “status” (for lack of a better word), I clam up, hover on the edges, and leave early. David has seen this in action, if you don’t believe me. I’ve also gone on a couple of campaigns of meeting people one-on-one, so I vastly expanded my support groups. And those groups exploded during my time as part of an institution – because I had a strong context within which to present myself to others.

It’s weird. It frequently feels like I don’t know which version of myself will show up at an event. The bubbly, out-going, networking fan, or the quiet, awkward, workaholic who isn’t cool enough (in her own mind) to hold a conversation with anyone. Now that I’m in a freelancer position, it has taken quite a while to reestablish myself and feel confident. It’s hard. Super hard. But finding friends is the most helpful for me. Having safe havens you can retreat to when you feel uncomfortable.

But David, it’s nice to have reassurance of the “once people are relating to your work it doesn’t matter” idea. I kind of believed that, but it’s nice to see it confirmed by someone else.

Comment on Innergaze: The Introverted Playwright by Liz Maestri

Liz Maestri — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 00:08:54 +0000

Nerd: A prepared person who doesn’t give a damn about the dance.

Comment on Innergaze: The Introverted Playwright by Dave

Dave — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 21:00:46 +0000

If you haven’t seen this already, watch it:

Comment on Innergaze: The Introverted Playwright by Liz Maestri

Liz Maestri — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 18:55:53 +0000

Way to go, Nat! I think it’s really cool that you’re working to get what you need, without comprimising who you are. Thank you for reading, and best of luck to Ryan too. Hope to see you one of these days.

Comment on Innergaze: The Introverted Playwright by Natalie

Natalie — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 18:00:03 +0000

Great article, Liz! I am an introvert too (if you didn’t already know it) as is my husband, who struggles to make it as an artist where connections are so important and when he hates going to social events and would rather just stay home. As a stay at home mom it isn’t really a problem, but even though I’m introverted I realize that I really do need people, and have rather surprised myself by taking the initiative to form mother’s groups, throw showers, reach out. Baby steps. I do realize that I will never feel totally comfortable in big groups or sound nearly as eloquent in conversations as I can in writing, but I’m ok with that.

Comment on Innergaze: The Introverted Playwright by Liz Maestri

Liz Maestri — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 15:42:03 +0000

Thank you for the fantastic advice, JM! I miss talking to you, and I’ll definitely work on putting your tips into practice. And yay for introverted actors! I like your quiet-ish nature on stage–it shows a kind of selflessness that serves the material and not the act-tor. There’s a real power in it too. Quiet storms are the best.

Comment on Innergaze: The Introverted Playwright by Jennifer

Jennifer — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 15:19:49 +0000

This is a great post, thanks for writing this. I also have very similar middle school memories (lunches in the bathrooms, just a few friends — people thought I was quite rude, when actually I was just very nervous and scared). I’m actually a very introverted actress – and it has been very difficult for me to deal with. I think people assume actors are all extroverts, but that is so not the case with me — I get shy around groups of people, and basically want to meld into the background at all social events. I get embarrassed if I feel like I’m saying the wrong thing in groups of people. However, it IS possible to network, I have found ways to make it possible. I have found these tips for networking in large groups: always bring a friend with you to serve as your “wingman” – someone you can touch base with throughout the event, so you feel as if you have support. You still have to “work” the room, but you know your buddy is there with you. When you go to an event, go with a specific purpose in mind, for example: “I want to meet this producer because I think he can help develop my play.” Just have a goal of meeting your one or two target people at any given event – so you won’t feel overwhelmed with having to meet everyone, and talk to everyone. Also, I like to keep in mind, that networking is just about revealing yourself and connecting with like-minded people. You want to find people you truly “click” and connect with – because those are the people that will want to work with you (and vice versa). Also, it seems you are doing all the right things: meeting people in ways that are comfortable to you, and developing relationships. I think that is really all that matters. Relationships take time to develop, and I don’t think it really matters how you develop them. I hope this helps! Good luck with everything.

Comment on Innergaze: The Introverted Playwright by Liz Maestri

Liz Maestri — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 15:12:56 +0000

Thank for this beautiful and encouraging note, David. No, I had no idea! But now that you mention it…yes, the dishwashing at the party…yes. You had me fooled–I remember hearing your big voice at TCG conferences, and I was terrified of you and impressed at the same time. Maybe I can find my own Liz-the-extrovert character. In the meantime, I’m going to keep working hard. Thank you again for taking the time to write.

Comment on Innergaze: The Introverted Playwright by David Dower

David Dower — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 14:52:08 +0000

Glad I follow you on Twitter or I would have missed this post entirely. But as it happens, I’m just back from one such gathering of theater strangers and, though you’d not believe it, I have the same inner ten-year-old traveling with me all the time. One picture from the weekend sums it up. At dinner the first night, Polly Carl (another with the same level of introvertedness and equal ability to mask it) and I found ourselves nervously scanning the room with our dinner plates in hand hoping to find a place for two at a table with people we knew. We didn’t so we retreated to a corner and sat on the floor rather than have to put ourselves through the crucible of introductions. At some point I realized that the rest of the room read that as us being unwilling to sit with the rest of the gathering. We must have looked rude to them. Perhaps it was, actually. But it was what we could do to stay in the room. You also won’t find me backstage after your show or comfortably hanging out with groups of theater colleagues with whom I have no actual relationship. I am extremely uncomfortable in those circumstances. As a coping mechanism I’ve developed the capacity to perform “extrovert” as a character, and few people besides my closest friends and family know that guy isn’t me. Watch closely and you’ll see him at work, though. He’s a big guy, happy host, and something of a Yenta– delightedly introducing people to each other, but you’ll soon notice he can’t stay in any of the conversations and is, at some point, going to make his way back to tending bar or busing tables as the way to stay at the ball… Here’s what I can tell you, from 30 years of dealing with it: in the end, it will be the work you do that people are most connected to and impacted by. Shy? Nervous? Arrogant? Not even present? Irrelevant once people are relating to your work. So keep writing and meeting in small groups and dragging your inner ten-year-old to the events you simply have to go to and rubbing your sweaty hands on your jeans. Eventually you will master it as a part you play so that your work moves in the world.