An Ode To Joy
Some time ago, due to certain events in my troubled life as a teenager, I started seeking ways and means to find joy in my life. It seemed like I was always struggling, absorbed in troubles and not involved in finding solutions. After high school, I realized that it was time to become a man, matured, more interested in good things, good people, and attempted to distance myself from negative, hostile influences. So, I joined the US Navy! I was seventeen and would be out by the time I was 21! Out of boot camp, I thought I would become a Navy pilot, so I went to Pensacola, Florida for training. I felt light, positive, and that there was a bright future for me. My first acquaintance was a student who had his first solo flight at the end of the week. Now, as an Eagle Scout, I had studied aeronautics, knew the principle of lift, how a plane needed its’ flaps down in order to take off, and I regret not bringing that fact up with my friend, just assuming he would have learned that six months earlier. Not so. I watched his plane taxi up to the runway, and watched him rev up his engine. I thought, okay, when will he lower his flaps?
He never did, and I witnessed the crash, watching him crushed by the engine, and felt utterly helpless. I tried screaming at the top of my voice “Lower your flaps!” Over and over again, until it was too late. I was a religious guy, brought up in the Episcopal Church as an acolyte, the cross bearer and candle lighter. But I was at sea after that incident, for a few years, and opted out of the flight school, studying aviation technology, becoming a radio operator in a P2V, patrol squadron, out of Norfolk, Virginia. It was apparent that I needed to create fun and experience enjoyment in my life, so I became a prankster, living a double life, one on the base, another in town. I rented an apartment, bought a car, and as soon as I left the base, I put my military sticker in the glove compartment. I volunteered at a local church to be assistant scout master, pretending I was a college student. It lasted over a year, until one of the parishioners saw me on base, in uniform! He came over to my apartment and asked why I had created a double life. I told him that it cheered me up, made life easier pretending to be someone I was not. He said I couldn’t help the scouts and would have to end the charade. This, after much thought and consternation, agreed to. I actually, enrolled in a history course at William & Mary College, which gave me more trouble, ducking out of the base without approved liberty, and finally, being brought up in front of a court martial!
I continued my duties, being transferred to Quantanimo Bay during the Bay of Pigs nuclear standoff in 1962. Shortly after that, I was accepted to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, interested in becoming a history teacher, after reading many books on history and philosophy. My first semester started and a new drama professor met me in the lunchroom and asked if I was a carpenter? I thought he must be a psychic as it was the only trade my father taught me. He gave me a generous work scholarship which got me through the first two years of college, More importantly, he asked if I would act in an Elmer Rice play, The Adding Machine? I had done a play in high school, Where’s Charley ? But that was a one -time thing. But that little moment in time stuck with me. Why? Because it was 30 seconds of unadulterated JOY!
That was the moment I cherished. It lifted me out of troubles that came my way.
However, it took me two years before I had the courage, will, and desire to change my major from history to hysterics, which is what the study of drama was presented to be, nevertheless, it brought me joy.
After I graduated, I went to Europe, lived in Paris, London and Berlin, went to art galleries, like the Louvre and the National Gallery in London. I stood in front of DaVinci’s Madonna for two days, looking in her eyes and having her look into mine. At one point, I openly asked her to move because there were two roads behind her head, converging upon one another, and I wanted to know what was there! I discovered DaVinci’s purpose, which I understood as: “When a person’s attention is riveted to beauty in a person, we often lose track of where we are, what we are going for, and what in life brings us meaning.” I have come to the conclusion that JOY is the Glue in Life. It encourages us to love someone, share ideas, thoughts, and feelings with others. It demands that we place more attention on others than we do on ourselves. It bypasses the trap of having an ego. It focuses our attention on others, on communicating something worthwhile. Joy extroverts our lives as we experience, and share it with people.
Years later, I was in New York, acting Off- Broadway in One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, and Peter Yates, a movie director saw me as a character in his movie, The Hot Rock, with Robert Redford and Zero Mostel. I played Otto, a prisoner who enjoyed picking his toes, and got into a fight with Paul Sand, another inmate. The key to the scene was finding the joy the character had, and defending his right to do what he liked, no matter what. It was my first film, one which I will never forget. Because, once again it brought me joy. I went back to graduate school at Hunter College, to learn more about the industry. My professors were Harold Clurman, Arthur Miller, Lillian Hellman, and Joe Anthony, a Broadway director. I also studied acting with Uta Hagen, Mira Rostova from the Moscow Art Theatre, and Robert Lewis from Yale Drama School. I continued acting on stage and television in New York, and discovered the London Academy of Music & Dramatic Art was auditioning for a one-year Post Graduate Course in the Classics.
In college I had performed several Shakespearean roles, and had prepared nine monologues for that audition. Why did I want to go to London? Because I felt there were things I hadn’t learned which would help me create a workable, reliable,
effective technique to approach each role, with a deeper understanding that I knew was available to me. On the spot, and believe me, I can count the times on one hand that I was cast or accepted for the assignment at the initial audition. They said, “Mr. Cook, you are why we are here, looking for performers who want to create wonderful characters.” I was ecstatic! Unfortunately, that summer I was cast as Ragnar in Ibsen’s Masterbuilder, at the Long Wharf Theatre in New Haven, Connecticut in September. I called the academy in London and asked if I could attend the following year. He asked how old I was and informed me that I would have to come next year, before my age would keep me out of the program. “I promise I will be there next year, without fail! So, after that Fall, I moved to Los Angeles, and did episodic work, and some theatre, but was dedicated to moving to London for the year. The first day I attended LAMDA I went up to the headmaster and said, “My name is Fredric Cook, I am a professional actor in three unions, in New York, regionally, and in Los Angeles. The reason I am here is because, after all the training, education and experience, I have no clue about what I’m doing.” He smiled, and I asked, “ Can you tell me the basic fundamental principle of acting?”
(I had asked this question before without receiving a positive response). He was a true mentor, wise, compassionate, interested in my well-being, and exhibited a lot of joy as he said, “It’s quite simple, actually, it is knowing what the character’s attention is on, moment to moment.”
I was stunned. Speechless. In my mind, I raced through years of coaching, years of ‘acting techniques.’ Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I thanked him and left, to sort out the meaning of what I had just heard. It is thought-driven. It is a process of overcoming my individual thoughts and ideas, and gaining the character’s viewpoint. I understood, for the first time, what it means to be an actor.
It is a progression of thoughts, ideas, actions and feelings that capture a character’s attention. Emotion does not drive the character, it is the thoughts and reactions s/he has that propel him/her through the scene. Previously, I felt the emotions of the moment, not necessarily the accurate emotions of the character, but my emotions. And, I discovered that the misalignment I had created lessened the degree of joy I had as the character. A lot of the roles I had created came up to me, like spirits urging me to recognize the true nature of their viewpoints. Immediately, I began to slow down the process, rather than leaping to assumptions that propelled me into emotional states, the thoughts became dominant. I began to understand that the process of gaining compassion with the character is very similar to life’s challenges in relationships. I recalled days in New York, as a young actor successfully active in theatre, I would bounce into the Actor’s Equity lounge, and attempt to have conversations with the older, wiser (I thought), balanced actors. Unfortunately, I was encountered by bitterness, blame, shame, and regret. Here I was, full of joy and my fellow actors were miserable and negative. I made a decision at that point in time, to never fall into that trap. I was dedicated to discover how I could avoid the perils of thriving on myself, being absorbed in me, me, me. Finally, after these many years preparing myself for this joyful work, I found where the light comes from. It comes by having your attention on others, giving support, assistance, acknowledgment, and sharing joy with as many people who will receive it. We all have choices in life. The secret is predicting the outcomes of each choice you make, and taking personal responsibility for making that choice and dealing the cards that follow.
I have been performing and teaching since 1975 when I opened the Los Angeles Academy of Dramatic Art. I have mentored many students following the principles taught at the London Academy. One of the most valuable lessons I learned was teaching is entirely collaborative, without criticism, opinions, declarations, etc. As a performer, I realized when I’m on stage, television or in front of a camera, I am responsible for every choice I make. I had brief encounters with a few bullish instructors, whose philosophy was to belittle, badger, and berate artists to toughen them up for the profession. I had the privilege to work with some of our best actors, all of whom were sincerely interested people. I remember on the film set of Gideon’s Trumpet, working with Henry Fonda, how he was open to all fans who wanted his autograph, and he even had conversations with some of them. There was nothing bullish about him, or Gregory Peck on the set of The Blue and The Grey. I worked with Robert Duvall, Ed Asner, Elizabeth Montgomery, and others, none of which were pushy, arrogant or aggressive. For the most part, they followed the policy, “if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything.” That is not what they said, but how they behaved. Criticism leads to a dead end street. Criticism is an enemy to joy.
Whenever I see a documentary film that exploits people who are negative, critical, eager to blame others for their plight, I feel sorry for them, They have succumbed to the many traps laid and hidden in front of them. They have had many people steal their thunder, by making choices for them, rather than helping them make choices with someone.
I have six children, all grown, some of which fell into difficult situations. One of them spent time in jail. Some struggled with addictions and the difficult recovery process. Whenever they called me, asking for me to solve their problems, I said, no. One thing to know is that your choices pave the way through life, and once you make a decision, positive or negative, the learning process begins. I was not cold, or indifferent. After I saw them make better choices, I supported them, mentally, physically, emotionally, and monetarily. It is extremely important that we provide opportunities for loved ones, friends, neighbors, students, parents to make well-thought out choices in their lives, because the only way we experience true joy is through the recognition and acceptance that, “I built that!” “My choices made that happen.” Personal achievement is far more valuable than the praise people give you.
Occasionally, my students are told, “You’re a Natural Talent.” Why, because they perform positively, honestly, without criticism, envy, bursts of reactivity and anger. Why people think a performer is natural is based on the fact that there were thousands of hours preparing for this work, which is much like the foundation of an iceberg. The Titanic went down because the crew couldn’t imagine the base of the iceberg below the water, which ripped the ship apart. Your results are the top ten percent of the iceberg, with ninety percent supporting your work, which people never see or even imagine. I encourage performers to thank people who call them a “Natural.” I also encourage them to know that the true result of their many hours monologuing, reading, rehearsing, understanding the viewpoint of their characters, contributes to the compassion they have in their lives. It is important for performers to know what they do, how they achieve results, and discover first, and foremost, what they like about what they do. Only after evaluating all the things they like, they are prepared to ask themselves, “What would I like to change?”
I discovered this principle initially at the Louvre in Paris, watching student artists copy the masters. I looked into their eyes, and saw no criticism of their work, only evaluating what they liked, the colors, the shapes, the light vs. darkness, the message conveyed, and the structure of the painting. After reading their thoughts, I noticed them sit back, tilt their heads, and think, “What would make this better?” Immediately, a burst of enthusiasm took over, they put the brush to the palette, grabbed the color they needed and applied it to the canvas, with confidence and assurance. They built the picture by making positive decisions: thus they were filled with joy. It’s a heavenly concept, one of achieving serenity and peace.
When Stanislavsky formed the Moscow Art Theatre, he collected workers from farms as his cohorts. He would pronounce to them, “Leave your toiling and troubles at the door. When you enter the theatre, you are living examples of
the best of humanity.” He encapsulated a truth about our native state: Everyone wants to be right with the choices they make in life. It is an act of justifying ourselves, each and every moment. No matter what they’ve decided to do, say, or think, they must believe that it’s for the greater good. Even evil people follow this unwritten, unsaid code. Now the performer needs to understand that joy can be achieved in the middle of heinous acts. I site Richard III, seducing queen Anne over her dead husband’s corpse, and the joy he takes achieving it. Even more despicable, is the joy he takes in killing the two little male children in the tower.
As actors, we cannot judge our characters, because we are representing their viewpoint. Much like a trial attorney does not have license to be critical of his/her client. We are supporting a viewpoint, and we leave the judgment up to our audience. If we are critical of our clients, they go to jail. (i.e. lose an ability to experience joy) It is for each of us to decide the road we want to travel, and what our destination is.
I encourage you to adopt Einstein’s Thesis: “In the middle of difficulty, arises opportunity.” When you seize upon the opportunity, joy is the inevitable result.
Fredric Cook, Instructor, Actor, Executive Director
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