Thelma Louise Carter

I just received the news by email. It didn't contain much information, just a little note to let me know that Thelma Louise Carter, teacher of Shakespeare and Life, passed away.

Thelma Carter. If you had a class with Thelma at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, you were special. Just like if you got picked for Hugh's 2nd year acting class. Then you were on the fast track. We all had Thelma in second year for Shakespeare, of course. I can't imagine anyone will ever teach it with the excitement, passion, skill and patience - not to mention a generous dose of "you sound like a bad Olivier impersonation" or "well, that was boring". Thelma Carter who took Shakespeare out of modern theatre and returned it to the past where it belonged and made purists out of thousands of kids - I don't know a single one of us who didn't come out of that class without a pure, vibrant obsession with doing Shakespeare - hell, with advocating Shakespeare. I'm still ready to share the whole thing lock, stock and scansion with anyone who might possibly even listen (unfortunately, those people were scared away years ago). It was because of Thelma Louise Carter that I was able to play Shakespeare in SoHo and play my heart out one evening to an audience of one. But even more importantly, it was because of Thelma Carter that I stayed in New York as long as I did, and started getting the auditions I deserved.

Thelma Carter didn't just believe in acting as a profession. She believed in acting as a reverse therapy. In class, it wasn't uncommon to hear us say "I'm confused" and before we could get much farther, Thelma would say to us "Confusion is a choice." Of course, being twenty somethings, we would resist this idea whole hog. But after a few weeks of listening to who Thelma was and seeing how she lived her life and being touched by her inner warmth and strength, we realized that it was true: in life (just like on stage or in business), confusion is a choice. If you do not understand, then you ask and ask and ask again until you do. If you do not understand and you continue to not understand and you do nothing or very little to become Un-confused, then you have made the choice to be confused. She also used to tell us that boredom is a choice. And, if you think about it (unless you're twelve and just can't admit it), you'll see just how right she is. Sometimes it's good to be bored. Then we are forced to take some time to notice our surroundings, our personal agendas, our states of being.

Validation was the one that won me over - and the one that is giving me the hardest time right now. Thelma used to say "all characters like all people seek validation". She also taught me that "villains are the heros of their own stories". I loved playing the villainess. I learned from Thelma Carter that the best villains are the ones you hate yourself for liking. Truly good villains are charming and likeable. She had a speech she gave about how, if she were casting MacBeth (hey, I'm not in a theatre, I can actually say the name), the three witches would be little old ladies wrapped in pink wooly shawls who looked like the old ladies living next door that gave out iced sugar cookies each Halloween. And it's true. When true evil comes from little old ladies in Miss Marple guise, it really is horrifying. That's how serial killers get us, right?

Thelma Carter was an exceptional person who lived an exceptional life. She embodied all that was good about humanity and acting in a completely accessible and truly gracious persona. If I live to be 100, I will never be half the woman and humanitarian that Thelma Carter was.

Which brings us to the selfish portion of our program. A memorial service will be held at one of the theatres in the school in a few weeks. More than likely I will not be able to attend, for many reasons. And I'll probably be grateful for that. I don't know how I could walk into that theatre full of alumni, many of whom I will know and who will know me, and keep my head up. These are people who saw me bloom and flourish in my talents and my craft and knew that I was just scratching the surface. I had everything going for me, as well as the business understanding and ego to back it all up. But, for a while, I lost the flame and with that flame, I lost my life's direction. There is only one thing (professionally speaking) that I have ever wanted to do in my life. I've tried on other coats and hats, but what's the point when you're as good at something a I am at theatre? And I can do it all: musicals, drama (Thelma Carter's Playing for Time), comedy, cabaret, commedia d'el arte, Greek Tragedy (Thelma Carter's Trojan Women), Restoration Comedy...we got a good education at AADA and I was fortunate enough to be adaptable. Which is why I made the elite Third Year Rep Company at the School. I was starting to do well in New York. I had made a lot of friends (surprise!) in the business, had done some voice overs and infomercials, was an extra on a soap, and began receiving calls to significant auditions. All I had to do was stick it out. But, as I said, I lost my flame, my passion. And now, here I am in Maine of all places, which doesn't have the largest professional theatre community and a great deal of that is summer based and an even greater deal of that casts out of New York. There are fewer and fewer roles for "mothers" and character actresses. Not to mention that I just don't have the connections or the network, the materials (perhaps even the chops, anymore), the child care, the support or a husband who actually understands the least little thing about how any of it works. The auditions. The call backs. The networking. The rehearsal and performance schedules. The need for flexibility. There's a reason so many professional actors retire after they have children and even more just never breed at all.

No, I can't walk into a theatre full of working professionals and admit that I'm doing absolutely nothing right now. And sure, eventually I'll get myself involved in a theatre here or work with the youth theatre that produces one or two shows a year. But unless you're a theatre professional who has spent years working with other theatre professionals, you really don't understand how not the same it is. The best I can liken it to is: say you've won five gold medals swimming in the Olympics and then the rest of your life you do nothing more than race your siblings in your parents' pool. Not that it isn't fun and not that it isn't swimming and even racing...but it's not the same. There's no real challenge and there's no real...well, anything. Sometimes it's hard to content yourself with that. Especially when it had always been your intention to race and return to the Olympics as long as you were able.

Anyway, God Bless Thelma Louise Carter who changed my life forever on one grey afternoon when she chose "I've Got Life" from Hair as my theme song. God Bless Her.