Shelley Wyant – A TKS Conversation

Shelley: One of my life lessons is: When in doubt, buy a plane ticket. I was in doubt in 1981. As an actress, I had received a rave review in The New York Times for my performance in “Dynamo” by Eugene O’Neill at the Impossible Ragtime Theater. But I had a new agent, whom I didn’t like, and my mother had recently died.

I went to Bali, because it is the island of the gods and they have no word for artist, as everyone is an artist. While I was there, I was referred by a friend to Idi Bagus Anom, a Balinese mask- maker. I was looking for something, but I didn’t know what. When I saw him at work in his studio, I was transfixed. I apprenticed with him in his studio for eight weeks. I made a mask, and he made me three, and they became my teachers. I stayed as long as my visa allowed.

Shelley: While apprenticing at Anom’s studio in Bali, I met Islene Pinder, who led the Balinese American Dance Theatre on Franklin Street in New York City. When I returned to New York, I looked up Islene, who gave me space in her loft where I could work. Islene had many masks, and I performed with her company with my masks.

At the same time, Julie Taymor was directing a production of “The Taming of the Shrew” for Theatre for a New Audience. She cast me in the production, and I subsequently began working for the company as a teaching artist, which was the start of my teaching career. When I performed soon thereafter at the Capital Repertory Theatre in Albany, I was invited to be a guest teaching artist at Skidmore College, and there, in my “Intro to Acting” class, I began using masks as a teaching tool. That led to invitations to be a mask teacher at numerous settings; I taught at Bard College for 10 years. It also enabled me to study with such legendary mask teachers as Pierre LeFevre at Juilliard and Jacques LeCoq in Paris. It ultimately led me to the Terry Knickerbocker Studio, where you are literally greeted at the door by a wall filled with masks that Terry has collected, many of which were made by Idi Bagus Anom in Bali.

Shelley: I was initially attracted by the artistry of Idi Bagus Anom and the stunning beauty of his masks, but what fascinates me about masks as a performer and a teacher is their transformative nature. In a literal sense, the mask covers up the face; but its transformative power is that it frees the individual to explore different aspects of oneself.

Counter-intuitively, by covering up, you expose. You gain permission to go wherever your imagination leads you. Full-faced masks, or neutral masks, cover the entire face including the mouth, so the only sound uttered is breathing, and breath in that regard is crucially important. Character masks leave the mouth open, so you have your voice back. In both cases, the world of the mask is a very particular place that the practitioner can visit by accepting an invitation to explore.

The invitation is to be whatever your imagination allows, freeing the mask-wearer to dig deeper. In my classes, we always journal, so the exploration is accompanied by written reflections that can be explored further with the entire class.

Shelley: I knew of Terry, because at one time we were both teaching at NYU. He was teaching in the Experimental Wing, and I was teaching at the New Studio on Broadway. We also had a mutual friend in Orlando Pabotoy, who is now Head of Physical Acting at Juilliard. When Terry decided to create the Terry Knickerbocker Studio, Orlando recommended me to him. We bonded immediately over masks. How could we not have, when he had his own masks created by Idi Bagus Anom in Bali? Terry and I also share a deep commitment to exploring imagination and digging deep. That is at the heart of the Meisner technique, which Terry teaches. It is also central to teaching the mask.

Shelley: Spectacularly. I taught a class the other day where the students blew my mind with their enthusiasm and innovation. That’s what’s so wonderful about the Terry Knickerbocker Studio. I’ve taught the mask for decades, and the students at the Terry Knickerbocker Studio still inspire me with their imagination, their willingness to explore, and their readiness to dig deep. At the Terry Knickerbocker Studio, the students are curious, interesting, delightful, and hard-working. I find that conservatory students are different from college or university students, because they are there solely to study acting. They are, therefore, focused on what they are doing and very serious about the work.

Shelley: I have worn masks at the Halloween parade, but typically I help operate giant puppets. I have marched in the parade for 40 years and have been on the Board of Directors for about five years. I first became involved, because I have an apartment on 10 th Street.

I just enjoy the spectacle of it. But those who do wear masks in the parade invariably share in their transformative freedom.

Shelley: No, the production has nothing to do with masks. I’ve directed a broad range of plays throughout my career. I have an MFA in Directing from Brooklyn College, and it’s a totally different aspect of my career from the teaching of the mask. The play that I’m now directing is “God of Carnage,” written by French playwright Yasmina Reza and translated into English by Christopher Hampton. In 2009, the original London production won the Laurence Olivier Award for Best New Comedy, and the subsequent Broadway production won the Tony Award for Best Play. It’s a fabulous work that deserves to be seen again, and I’m very pleased to be able to help make it available to audiences at this time.

Shelley: The mask informs everything I do, because I look for actors to go deep in their imagination, just as I do with students of the mask. It’s that capacity to go deep that is at the core of great acting.

Shelley: One of my life lessons is: When in doubt, buy a plane ticket. I was in doubt in 1981. As an actress, I had received a rave review in The New York Times for my performance in “Dynamo” by Eugene O’Neill at the Impossible Ragtime Theater. But I had a new agent, whom I didn’t like, and my mother had recently died.

I went to Bali, because it is the island of the gods and they have no word for artist, as everyone is an artist. While I was there, I was referred by a friend to Idi Bagus Anom, a Balinese mask- maker. I was looking for something, but I didn’t know what. When I saw him at work in his studio, I was transfixed. I apprenticed with him in his studio for eight weeks. I made a mask, and he made me three, and they became my teachers. I stayed as long as my visa allowed.

Shelley: While apprenticing at Anom’s studio in Bali, I met Islene Pinder, who led the Balinese American Dance Theatre on Franklin Street in New York City. When I returned to New York, I looked up Islene, who gave me space in her loft where I could work. Islene had many masks, and I performed with her company with my masks.

At the same time, Julie Taymor was directing a production of “The Taming of the Shrew” for Theatre for a New Audience. She cast me in the production, and I subsequently began working for the company as a teaching artist, which was the start of my teaching career. When I performed soon thereafter at the Capital Repertory Theatre in Albany, I was invited to be a guest teaching artist at Skidmore College, and there, in my “Intro to Acting” class, I began using masks as a teaching tool. That led to invitations to be a mask teacher at numerous settings; I taught at Bard College for 10 years. It also enabled me to study with such legendary mask teachers as Pierre LeFevre at Juilliard and Jacques LeCoq in Paris. It ultimately led me to the Terry Knickerbocker Studio, where you are literally greeted at the door by a wall filled with masks that Terry has collected, many of which were made by Idi Bagus Anom in Bali.

Shelley: I was initially attracted by the artistry of Idi Bagus Anom and the stunning beauty of his masks, but what fascinates me about masks as a performer and a teacher is their transformative nature. In a literal sense, the mask covers up the face; but its transformative power is that it frees the individual to explore different aspects of oneself.

Counter-intuitively, by covering up, you expose. You gain permission to go wherever your imagination leads you. Full-faced masks, or neutral masks, cover the entire face including the mouth, so the only sound uttered is breathing, and breath in that regard is crucially important. Character masks leave the mouth open, so you have your voice back. In both cases, the world of the mask is a very particular place that the practitioner can visit by accepting an invitation to explore.

The invitation is to be whatever your imagination allows, freeing the mask-wearer to dig deeper. In my classes, we always journal, so the exploration is accompanied by written reflections that can be explored further with the entire class.

Shelley: I knew of Terry, because at one time we were both teaching at NYU. He was teaching in the Experimental Wing, and I was teaching at the New Studio on Broadway. We also had a mutual friend in Orlando Pabotoy, who is now Head of Physical Acting at Juilliard. When Terry decided to create the Terry Knickerbocker Studio, Orlando recommended me to him. We bonded immediately over masks. How could we not have, when he had his own masks created by Idi Bagus Anom in Bali? Terry and I also share a deep commitment to exploring imagination and digging deep. That is at the heart of the Meisner technique, which Terry teaches. It is also central to teaching the mask.

Shelley: Spectacularly. I taught a class the other day where the students blew my mind with their enthusiasm and innovation. That’s what’s so wonderful about the Terry Knickerbocker Studio. I’ve taught the mask for decades, and the students at the Terry Knickerbocker Studio still inspire me with their imagination, their willingness to explore, and their readiness to dig deep. At the Terry Knickerbocker Studio, the students are curious, interesting, delightful, and hard-working. I find that conservatory students are different from college or university students, because they are there solely to study acting. They are, therefore, focused on what they are doing and very serious about the work.

Shelley: I have worn masks at the Halloween parade, but typically I help operate giant puppets. I have marched in the parade for 40 years and have been on the Board of Directors for about five years. I first became involved, because I have an apartment on 10 th Street.

I just enjoy the spectacle of it. But those who do wear masks in the parade invariably share in their transformative freedom.

Shelley: No, the production has nothing to do with masks. I’ve directed a broad range of plays throughout my career. I have an MFA in Directing from Brooklyn College, and it’s a totally different aspect of my career from the teaching of the mask. The play that I’m now directing is “God of Carnage,” written by French playwright Yasmina Reza and translated into English by Christopher Hampton. In 2009, the original London production won the Laurence Olivier Award for Best New Comedy, and the subsequent Broadway production won the Tony Award for Best Play. It’s a fabulous work that deserves to be seen again, and I’m very pleased to be able to help make it available to audiences at this time.

Shelley: The mask informs everything I do, because I look for actors to go deep in their imagination, just as I do with students of the mask. It’s that capacity to go deep that is at the core of great acting.

Shelley: One of my life lessons is: When in doubt, buy a plane ticket. I was in doubt in 1981. As an actress, I had received a rave review in The New York Times for my performance in “Dynamo” by Eugene O’Neill at the Impossible Ragtime Theater. But I had a new agent, whom I didn’t like, and my mother had recently died.

I went to Bali, because it is the island of the gods and they have no word for artist, as everyone is an artist. While I was there, I was referred by a friend to Idi Bagus Anom, a Balinese mask- maker. I was looking for something, but I didn’t know what. When I saw him at work in his studio, I was transfixed. I apprenticed with him in his studio for eight weeks. I made a mask, and he made me three, and they became my teachers. I stayed as long as my visa allowed.

Shelley: While apprenticing at Anom’s studio in Bali, I met Islene Pinder, who led the Balinese American Dance Theatre on Franklin Street in New York City. When I returned to New York, I looked up Islene, who gave me space in her loft where I could work. Islene had many masks, and I performed with her company with my masks.

At the same time, Julie Taymor was directing a production of “The Taming of the Shrew” for Theatre for a New Audience. She cast me in the production, and I subsequently began working for the company as a teaching artist, which was the start of my teaching career. When I performed soon thereafter at the Capital Repertory Theatre in Albany, I was invited to be a guest teaching artist at Skidmore College, and there, in my “Intro to Acting” class, I began using masks as a teaching tool. That led to invitations to be a mask teacher at numerous settings; I taught at Bard College for 10 years. It also enabled me to study with such legendary mask teachers as Pierre LeFevre at Juilliard and Jacques LeCoq in Paris. It ultimately led me to the Terry Knickerbocker Studio, where you are literally greeted at the door by a wall filled with masks that Terry has collected, many of which were made by Idi Bagus Anom in Bali.

Shelley: I was initially attracted by the artistry of Idi Bagus Anom and the stunning beauty of his masks, but what fascinates me about masks as a performer and a teacher is their transformative nature. In a literal sense, the mask covers up the face; but its transformative power is that it frees the individual to explore different aspects of oneself.

Counter-intuitively, by covering up, you expose. You gain permission to go wherever your imagination leads you. Full-faced masks, or neutral masks, cover the entire face including the mouth, so the only sound uttered is breathing, and breath in that regard is crucially important. Character masks leave the mouth open, so you have your voice back. In both cases, the world of the mask is a very particular place that the practitioner can visit by accepting an invitation to explore.

The invitation is to be whatever your imagination allows, freeing the mask-wearer to dig deeper. In my classes, we always journal, so the exploration is accompanied by written reflections that can be explored further with the entire class.

Shelley: I knew of Terry, because at one time we were both teaching at NYU. He was teaching in the Experimental Wing, and I was teaching at the New Studio on Broadway. We also had a mutual friend in Orlando Pabotoy, who is now Head of Physical Acting at Juilliard. When Terry decided to create the Terry Knickerbocker Studio, Orlando recommended me to him. We bonded immediately over masks. How could we not have, when he had his own masks created by Idi Bagus Anom in Bali? Terry and I also share a deep commitment to exploring imagination and digging deep. That is at the heart of the Meisner technique, which Terry teaches. It is also central to teaching the mask.

Shelley: Spectacularly. I taught a class the other day where the students blew my mind with their enthusiasm and innovation. That’s what’s so wonderful about the Terry Knickerbocker Studio. I’ve taught the mask for decades, and the students at the Terry Knickerbocker Studio still inspire me with their imagination, their willingness to explore, and their readiness to dig deep. At the Terry Knickerbocker Studio, the students are curious, interesting, delightful, and hard-working. I find that conservatory students are different from college or university students, because they are there solely to study acting. They are, therefore, focused on what they are doing and very serious about the work.

Shelley: I have worn masks at the Halloween parade, but typically I help operate giant puppets. I have marched in the parade for 40 years and have been on the Board of Directors for about five years. I first became involved, because I have an apartment on 10 th Street.

I just enjoy the spectacle of it. But those who do wear masks in the parade invariably share in their transformative freedom.

Shelley: No, the production has nothing to do with masks. I’ve directed a broad range of plays throughout my career. I have an MFA in Directing from Brooklyn College, and it’s a totally different aspect of my career from the teaching of the mask. The play that I’m now directing is “God of Carnage,” written by French playwright Yasmina Reza and translated into English by Christopher Hampton. In 2009, the original London production won the Laurence Olivier Award for Best New Comedy, and the subsequent Broadway production won the Tony Award for Best Play. It’s a fabulous work that deserves to be seen again, and I’m very pleased to be able to help make it available to audiences at this time.

Shelley: The mask informs everything I do, because I look for actors to go deep in their imagination, just as I do with students of the mask. It’s that capacity to go deep that is at the core of great acting.