At S.A.M., we honor tradition.
We respect all existing methods and techniques.
However, we constantly challenge the rules to create new approaches.
The idea that actors should be “technique-unfaithful,” exploring various disciplines and methods, is not groundbreaking, but it remains essential. Anyone who has set foot on stage or worked in diverse environments knows that no single technique, method, or philosophy can encompass the vastness of styles, directors, plays, and demands that actors encounter. While there are foundational constants—truth, imagination, concentration—that recur across approaches, each collaboration presents unique challenges. Working with Bob Wilson is a vastly different experience from working with David Mamet. Being directed by Sam Mendes is not the same as being directed by Peter Brook. A good director, one who understands the creative process of acting, offers a collaborative, thoughtful process. But that is not always the case. Some directors treat actors like puppets: “Speak this way,” “Move like that,” “Look here, not there.” This rigidity stifles creativity.
What technique purists and their devotees often fail to recognize is that the classroom, much like a laboratory, is a controlled environment. It is shaped by the specific philosophies and exercises created by the founder of that particular method. But the real world is not so sterile. What happens when a director crushes your spontaneity in rehearsal? What if their aesthetic is so artificial that they demand you be equally false? “Walk away,” some purists might advise. But here’s what they don’t understand, what they seem incapable of grasping: THIS IS WORK. WE NEED TO WORK. Actors are desperate to work. We need to be on stage. So, we find ways to collaborate and adapt, even if that means navigating falsehoods to protect our own integrity.
The answer isn’t found in one technique, because no single technique holds the key to every situation. For instance, if you’re working with a director obsessed with micromanaging every breath, gesture, and line delivery, Meisner’s focus on spontaneity won’t necessarily save you. Yes, Meisner teaches us to respond truthfully in imaginary circumstances, but that doesn’t address how to survive bad direction or rigid environments. Michael Chekhov, on the other hand, offers tools to play with qualities, atmospheres, and psychological techniques that can help actors find solutions, even when dealing with overbearing directors. His approach isn’t just deeply physiological; it’s practical for handling difficult, “crazy” demands.
Stanislavsky urged actors to break tradition. Why? Because innovation and problem-solving are integral to the actor’s craft. You can confine yourself to a single technique or align yourself with one particular school of thought, or you can become a versatile professional, capable of adjusting to any situation.
I’m tired of the false certainties out there. I’m tired of academics—people who’ve spent little to no time on professional stages—lecturing about “the right process” as if they hold the ultimate truth. I’m tired of commercialized programs selling their method as “the only way.” THERE IS NO SINGLE RIGHT WAY. We are talking about ART. Open your mind and stop being so dogmatic.
Yours truly,
KF
