Julia Billington

I would like to acknowledge the traditional custodians of the land on which this podcast is primarily created, the Gadigal of the Eora Nation. I pay my respects to elders both past and present and extend that respect to all First Nations people listening today. This episode of An Actor Survives is sponsored by Actors Centre Australia, your gateway to a successful career in the performing arts. Auditions for the Bachelor of Performing Arts Stage and Screen degree program are coming up on November 13th in Sydney or digitally for those out of town. Join one of Australia's top drama schools. Known for alumni starring in hit series, film and theatres worldwide, apply now at actorscentouraustralia.com.au and make your mark. Actors Centre Australia, where your calling and craft ignite. It's so easy to say, yeah, just be yourself, but in being yourself you ostensibly have to be okay with being rejected, which is incredibly terrifying. Our nervous systems, the animal human that we are deep down inside wants to be accepted by the tribe because back in the day, literally, like if you were ostracised from the tribe, you were too cold at night, you'd get eaten by the wolves, it meant death. And so we have the same nervous system response to being rejected, whether that's from a job or from, you know, whatever it be that we deem important. It's the same kind of visceral experience of, like, this could mean death. So how do you reconcile that? My name's Emily McKnight and this is An Actor Survives, a podcast that digs deep into Australia's most creative minds to uncover the tools you need to survive a career as an actor. Welcome, Jules Billington, to An Actor Survives. Thank you so much. So good to be here. Yay. First of all, I always like to ask, how long have you been an actor and when did you first feel confident to call yourself an actor? My God, I'm stumped by the first question. I know. I have, look, let me give you the double-pronged answer. I've been an actor since the first time I was on stage, I was six. The first time I was on stage and it was a professional production, I was 17. The first time I was on stage and was remunerated with money, I was 21. Wow. So, take your pick. What do you define as an actor? Is it someone that's on stage? Part of the reason why I asked the question. Is it a professional stage? Whatever that might mean. Is it that they're paid? I don't know. There you go. Three answers. Take your pick. What do you think? Or how do you feel about what defines it? I would say I've been performing since I was six. I wouldn't necessarily use the label 'actor', I don't know why, but it feels right to say I've been performing, I've been storytelling, I've been using my craft, I've been doing the art form since I was six. Yeah, let's go with that. Cool. And was there a moment where you started saying, 'Yes, this is what I do', or was it since you were six? You're like, 'Yep, I'm a performer'. I had no idea it was actually a job that earned you money. Yeah. So, I was 14. I was in grade nine. I was in a production of 'Dags' by Deborah Oswald, 'Bless'. And my fabulous high school drama teacher, Stephen Mathias, bless him, love him, pulled me aside after one particular performance and said, 'So, you know, you can do this as a career, like as a job'. And I was like, 'People get paid for this?' And he was like, 'Yeah. What do you think all those people we see on stage when we go to Kupac in Brisbane where I grew up, you know, are doing? That's their job. They get paid for that'. So, I was like, 'Oh, wow, sick. I'm in'. So, that's when I decided/kinda knew that that's what I wanted to do to earn money. Yeah. And then, you know, the next thing became, 'How do I go about doing that?' And it's been a continual evolving question ever since, really. Yes. Yes, as it is for most of us. Did you go to drama school? I did. In Brisbane? Down in Sydney. I did 'Nida' at the three-year course from 2006, 2007 and 2008, well, my three years. A while ago. Was it just because 'Nida' was the one you got into? What made you go from Brisbane to Sydney to study? It was because 'Nida' had the best reputation. Allow me a small moment to, I guess, brag, celebrate. Let's use the word 'celebrate'. That's less judgmental. I got offered four options, which was so incredible. I got offered film and TV at QUT, and I got offered acting at 'Nida' VCA in Whopper. So I felt pretty chuffed that whatever I'd done that particular year, because the year before I'd tried all of them and got nowhere, so I'd literally gone from, like, didn't make anything to getting through all the way and having offers at, like, four different places. Wow. In that year, between, like, did you do any extra, like, studying or...? No. Or was it just...? Oh, look, sure. No, yes, I did. I was doing an internship with Zenzenzo, and not that that influenced it. Here's the real thing that happened. Instead of Julia wearing a mini-skirt and a singlet trying to, like, put makeup on that felt wrong and do Juliet, I came in in blue. Board shorts, a very lesbian tank top, and I did Queen Margaret and kind of went, "Fuck you's all, I'm going to be myself." Yeah. Oh, no, I had to swear in here because I just did. Yes, if you do too much, I just have to click the explicit button. Beautiful. That's all. One F-bomb, done. So what did I do? Nothing with regards to my craft and everything with regards to self-ownership, self-belief, and, like, I am enough-ness, all of that kind of work. I grew up, I owned myself, I wasn't trying to people, please. It's amazing how much that can make a difference. We touched on a little bit in the discussion before about getting rejected or getting told no for things. How do you manage that? Do you have a kind of method to overcome it? I think it depends on the project, yeah, and it depends on how invested I am for it. You know, I'll do a commercial audition, and often the phrase that I give for people not in our industry is, "For commercials, a lot of the time, I treat it like buying a lottery ticket." Like, there's a certain amount of prep you do when you walk in there, but you kind of, you throw it down, and if it goes your way, great, and if it doesn't go your way, it was a lottery ticket, you know. If it's a TV show, and it's a leading character, and it's three or four big scenes, yeah, of course that hurts, especially if you invest in it. Then theater's another different kettle of fish where you're often spending a good half an hour, sometimes 45 minutes or so, in a room, and for me at least to do my best work, I kind of pretend I've got the role when I go into the audition, and I'm in, not in an arrogant way, but in a way of like, "Let's crack down, let's do the work." Yeah, like you're in a rehearsal room rather than an audition. Completely. And I want to have a discussion, and I want to crack open their brain, and how do you see it, and why do you see it that way, and what else do you have for me, and this is my pitch, and where do you want to add, and it really becomes a workshop kind of vibe. So yeah, of course, when something doesn't go your way after that, yeah, it hurts. There's a fabulous phrase that my best mate often says to me, and she got it from, I think, someone from Scotland, and so like, it comes in an accent that I am very not proficient in doing, but it's something along the lines of, "What's for you will not go by you, and what goes by you was never for you." Oh. Now that's going to sound better in a Scottish accent. Let me write that down while we listen to Jule's attempt to do it in a Scottish accent. "What goes by you is never for you." Oh, that's terrible. I loved it. I give myself two out of ten. Oh, but you had the facial expressions and the body movements, it was a full performance right here in the kitchen. Look, it was eleven out of ten for enthusiasm, two out of ten skill. Have you done much accent study? I've done bits and pieces, but accents I love, but they're one of those things that don't come completely naturally to me, I do have to work at them, so that clearly had no voice coach and no work. Give me six weeks of rehearsal process, I could nail that. Yeah, it is amazing when you get to be in a show that comes with a dialect coach or an accent coach, or I was in a show where I was a puppeteer and so I had a puppet teacher. A puppeteer teacher, a puppeteer teacher. Not sure what you call them, but somebody came in to teach me the skills of puppeteering each week and I'm like, "This is so cool, I'm getting paid to learn how to be a puppeteer." All right, so when you finished drama school, how did you go about kind of then carving out a professional acting career? How honest do I be? I graduated NIDA with the elite story in my head that the only possible route for success was to get Shanna Hands as your agent, to secure big Australian feature films funded by Screen Australia, to then go over to the States to smash an HBO TV series, to then potentially go onto the West End and do an amazing Australian written play, and then eventually win an Oscar. Have you done all those things? No I haven't, but that said, the extraordinary Sarah Snooke is clearly on that pile. So when NIDA puts it in your head, they're not wrong, and you know, Cape Blanchett, similar thing, it's possible, they're not wrong, that said, it is the 0.1% of actors that graduate but do that. Now here's the difficult thing, Emily. We don't want to take away from the incredible work that that requires. The effort, the showing up on set, the working with some big bloody egos that probably rub your skin the wrong way. There is a huge amount of sacrifice and craft and work and passion that goes into that journey. And it's not most people's reality after their graduated drama school. And so while I don't want to take anything away from those extraordinary humans that are on that path, because that is epic and deserves all the congratulations, there needs to be another thing that satiates and applauds what so many other incredibly talented, smart, intelligent, impressive actors that do not have the same recognition. So this is the thing we kind of need to dissect. Recognition is a dangerous way to equate success, hence why I've created a new thing. And so what have I done since I graduated? I got an amazing agent, love her, Sophie German is incredible and was so lucky to be offered a place on her books after graduating. And I've been with her ever since and she has been a lifeline in many respects. So it's been a mixture. A lot of my work has come from my networking and connections and chatting to people and knowing people. And a lot of my work has come through Sophie and having an agent that got me auditions or got me in the door. I always think your relationship with your agent needs to be a team. Why am I paying them there 10% when I got the job? Because you're a team. Because the next time they're going to get you a job that they've worked for, they've communicated for, you go in for and you don't get it. And yet you're not paying them any money for the effort they've put in to get you those auditions. So you're a team and it's about crafting your career together. And that's going to be as much about what you say yes to as it is what you say no to. Every no is a closed door to another opportunity. So you might say yes to a massive tour, that's a no to whatever small little gigs might come up that year. You might say no to a massive educational theatre tour that lasts for 12 months and you might get two yeses that are small jobs in that year. Now where are crystal balls? Yeah. The only thing you have is to trust your instincts and try and follow whatever your guide is and mine is, work with good people on interesting projects. And within all that, do you have or have you had to have a muggle job to kind of sustain you in between the creative ones? I love that you call it a muggle job. That's so fantastic. It's so true. Because it means that our acting and our craft and our creativity is wizardry, which it is. It's magic. I love it. I love it. It's so appropriate. I do. I do. Let me tell you briefly the very facetious story. I was wanting a job that was a really good hourly pay rate. And I've done everything except for hospitality, basically. I have worked in retail and shops and worn ridiculous costumes and advertised things and I've delivered corporate catering and worked admin jobs in offices and whatnot. And I was just getting over the struggle of I have to say no to this in order to say yes to the audition and then they fire me and then I find a new job and then on we go. Yeah, the cycle of that, yeah. It's hard. It's a real struggle. So I looked into being a masseuse and being a yoga teacher because both are roughly a dollar a minute, yeah, like $60 for an hour's worth of work. And I went, "Well, I'm an actor, so I'm used to being in front of groups of people. Maybe I get bored massaging people. I'll go and do my yoga teacher training." So I signed up thinking how hard can it be. Triangle pose. Thank you very much. $60 an hour, right? Like the worst reason to sign up to a yoga teacher training. Triangle pose. And so I signed up and I'd done maybe sporadic on and off yoga for the last two years. And it always made me cry and I thought maybe that's kind of therapeutic, but something's in there. And then I fell in love with it. And what it gave me was freedom, Emily, because it made me realize that there is actually a bigger point to being alive than making art. It's not to diminish making art or storytelling or any of that stuff. But what yoga gave me in my teacher training and what I now feel I offer and give to other people as a yoga teacher and now as a yoga teacher of new yoga teacher trainees, like I teach people how to teach yoga, is that it is about a way to connect your spirit, your soul back into purpose, life, the universe, cosmos, yourself. And so suddenly I have an ability to affect positive change in other humans that I am now paid for. And the exchange goes both ways, right? Because I literally just taught two classes before I'm recording this interview. And I walked out of that room, first of all, I walked into that room with personal life shit falling around me and holding back tears, managed to compartmentalize, taught these two classes, saw the visceral effect of calmness, of returning to self, of realising, remembering what's important. And that affects me too. And so I walk out from that going, ah, there are bigger things in the world than whether I land that audition or not. I know what's important on my deathbed. And that's not to say art isn't, but it's to say don't let other people's idea of what's important tell you what's important, your art's important. Write your script, make your pottery, sing your song, even if you think it's crap. Who were you to say your art is not important? We need it because it's yours and it's unique and it's individual. You might not get paid for it. It might not even receive all those accolades. It might never get an award. But it is so important to your life, to your expression, and to putting creativity into the planet and into all of the beautiful humans that are on this, you know, this globe. So yoga saved me. And in saving me, it meant I am now a much freer, less, I hold on tightly and I can let go lightly now because of yoga. Yeah, hold on tightly, let go lightly is a good one. Gee, I hope everyone listening has got a pen and paper. If not, go get one now and rewind and go back to the start of this. Amazing. Thank you for sharing all of that. That's, yeah. I mean, I remember when I first went to yoga, I had a fairly religious upbringing and I'm not at all now, but when I first went to yoga, I went, oh, that's how people can find peace and quiet in your mind and, oh, right, cool. Okay. I didn't know, because that was like a thing that I was missing. I kind of went, oh, now that I've, now that I don't believe in all of this stuff, how do I define myself, but also how do I like, how do I find peace? Yes. And how do, how do normal people, non-Christians find peace? And I'm like, and I remember going, I don't understand and I miss praying and I miss finding that, that community and that kind of like chance to kind of be together and experience something in that way. I mean, you get it in theater, but, but something spiritual that is larger than yourself. Yeah. You get that in some theater, but this is the thing that religion tries to offer. I used to really poo poo religion, especially as someone who's queer, but my brother is very Christian. And what I see now is that what he gets from his Christianity and his church and his community is what I get from yoga. Yeah. That's right. And that was what I was so delighted to discover. A reset button. Yeah. Perfect. Yeah. Perfect. To then come back to the art with a fresh vigor, a fresh sense of, oh, this is important. Clarity. All those things. Yeah. And what we're talking about is how do I make sense of making art in a capitalist society that tries to make it a money making business? There is a schism there between what capitalist money making wants and what creativity wants. And what we're talking about, whether it's singing, whether it's yoga, whether it's religion is how do I bridge that gap of the artifice that is their separate things? And how do I bring myself back into a sense of bigger than and unity, a sense of purpose? And it's amazing how I like what you said about it doesn't matter if your creativity isn't ever seen or doesn't get the awards or doesn't, you know, there is something that can be said of just like getting a paintbrush and painting a canvas, you know, or saying a monologue, you know, or whatever it is, like being creative in some way or writing something. Or, you know, even if it's not going to see the light of day, the power and the empowerment you can feel just from being creative is. I have so many unshared and unpublished poems in my notes section on my phone because something will hit me. Like it feels like a visceral punch in the stomach or the heart or the head, and I've just got to get it out. And then like two people see it, trusted friends that I'm like, hey, I wrote a little thing never going to see the light of day, I've not written it for someone else. It's been created as a way of something that needs to be expressed channeling through me. Yeah. And that chance to express, you know, in a different kind of way. That said, do you have kind of other creative things aside from acting in your life? Yeah. I've begun directing because the amazing Joanna Erskine basically threw me in a rehearsal room and said, shut up and do the directing thing. So for the last few years, I've been directing the players at Bell Shakespeare. Oh, wow. It's so rewarding. I love it. That's what a great gig. It's awesome. And it's so up my sleeve because it plays to my strengths and not my areas where I still have learning to do. I don't need to worry about a sound design or a costume design or pretty much even a set design. Really. I have actors in black and I have props. So I have their bodies and I have time and space. And these are my tools that I know inside out. So that's wonderful. I'm also, I would call myself a writer, I have nothing published, but I would call myself a writer. I often write bits and pieces of scripts and yet to turn anything into a full length completed piece. Here's a bow on a play. I love writing poetry. Again, that's for me. That's not to give away or do anything with. And I'm also, I call myself a drama coach, a job that I actually had the fortune of getting paid for at one point on an amazing TV show called First Day. Julie Calsef wrote and directed it. It's had two seasons so far and it's one, a children's Emmy and it's an amazing story about a trans girl called Hannah who goes to school in grade seven as the trans girl with the female name in the dress that she knows to be. I think I've seen it. Or have seen it. It's really beautiful. Yeah. Yeah. Evie McDonald plays Hannah and she's a trans actor herself and she's incredible and she done a bit of modeling before this. But when we shot the pilot, she was, let me get this right, 12 and had been out as trans since she was 10 and then we shot the next season when she was 14 and she's just gone from strength to strength. And in season two, we introduced another character that is a trans boy and Jake, who is also a trans boy, played that role as well. And I just had the best time working with these kids in particular because they kind of entered into it not really having done that much acting before. So there was so much of that new ground to cover. And then other teenagers that had done other acting and then I just got to refine the skills that they already had and whatnot. So a drama coach I bill myself as and I've got people that randomly approach me via Instagram going, "Hi, I see that it says drama coach on your profile, could we do a session together? I have an audition or I got a role and tomorrow I'm on set, help." So I love that it's a beautiful mix of kind of directing, teaching, mentoring, which feels really good. Yeah, it's amazing. I love particularly working with young people in that way. I've just been coaching a young girl preparing to audition for Newtown performing arts. I don't bill myself as a drama coach but I was teaching her flute and she actually decided to quit flute and then a year later the parents reached out and went because they all came and watched my play, which was very nice. And a year later they reached out and said, "Hey, you know you're an actor as well as a flute teacher, would you be able to help our daughter prepare for the drama audition for Newtown?" And I went, "Oh, yes?" Yes, that's when you say yes. Well, I just kind of went, "Oh, do I know how to, I mean, I've run drama workshops before and now I've done much more as well. I've done a few like Sport for Jovi drama workshops and stuff but I'm like, "Oh, do I know? How do I tutor someone one-on-one?" And she's so young but it ended up being so rewarding. I just loved it so much. I mean, I knew her already from teaching her flute for many years but then being able to kind of go, "Okay, how can I help her prepare but also like how can I show her that she's enough and also I was watching myself as I was giving feedback and like thinking about what feedback would have hurt me then but even now, you know, how can I direct her and offer criticism without criticising her or making her feel like I'm criticising her?" And already this is more than enough. And it was just such, I loved it. Anyway, she got in. Yay. Yeah. Fantastic. Big congratulations. But it was great. This is the thing, Emily, and dare I bring the gender card into this? Because I think if you're a signed female at birth, you often feel you have to be twice as good before you can even say yes to something because I feel like there's a leniency if you are a signed male at birth that it's okay to learn on the job. And I feel like often people assigned female feel they need to be twice as good at something before they will even put their hand up and say, "Yes, I can." So I don't know, maybe that's like a spicy political statement or something that I've just said, but listening to everything that you said just then automatically qualifies you for coaching someone. Yeah. And it's fantastic. But it's just, I mean, certainly for me, and I think there's a healthy mix of other, unhealthy mix of like religion and general people pleasing personality traits and things. But I, yeah, I do find myself doing that. Even when Sport4Jove literally asked me to run a Shakespeare workshop, I was like, "Well, I can't do that. I don't know how to." I mean, I did. Good. But I actually had to call friends and go, "Look, I know you're going to say yes, but I'm just telling you that I feel like I can't. Can you just help me to see that I can?" Or like, remind me what, how to, and they're like, "Yeah, well, yeah, yeah, Emily, you know stuff." It's like, "Okay." And I just... Thank goodness we've got friends, right? Yeah, that's right. To remind us when we forget, when fear gets a little louder than what we know. This is the myth imposter syndrome says, "Everyone else knows what they're doing and they have done it for their entire lives and you don't. You didn't get the manual." Right? That's what imposter syndrome says. It is the truth. No one knows what they're doing. Yeah. Everyone has a pretty rough idea, but everyone is winging it because it's the creative process. So you're always going in there with a certain element, unknown. I walk into rehearsals every afternoon and I'm like, "Ugh, I'm not entirely sure how this is going to go, but I've got a rough plan." So it's like, it's not going in there apologizing because that kind of lack of confidence breeds a lack of trust in the process, but it's somehow finding the way, and this is where I love, I'll steal another smart person, Elizabeth Gilbert's quote on fear. So you know, fear will be with you. Fear has to come along in the car on the road trip, right? You can't kick fear out and leave them on the side of the road. It will never happen, but fear sits in the backseat. Yeah, it doesn't drive a car. Fear is not driving the car. Fear isn't even touching the goddamn radio and fear is under no circumstance to hold the map and tell you where to go. Yeah. Thank you, Elizabeth Gilbert, for that one. I loved that too. I remember reading that and I'm like, "Okay, where's my highlighter?" It's gold. And that applies to imposter syndrome. It's like, "I do know what I'm doing." Enough. Maybe not totally. That's okay. It's the creative process, but I know enough. Do you have any ambition to work overseas, do the whole LA thing or London thing? Did. Yeah. And dabbled for a little bit. So through the Big Brother mentorship, I got a grant to take myself over to London for three months. Wow. And I worked with the National Theatre Studio, which is like their new work kind of branch. Think like Griffin attached to Sydney Theatre Company, which is amazing that they've got an entire branch of the National Theatre dedicated to new work. Putty Morrell ran it at the time and so I was working with her for about three months over the summer. And I remember thinking, "This is cool." And then everything else asked me to do feature films for free, TV slots for free, auditions and whole day workshops with many other people for free. The pay rate was way worse, the dollar was worse, and this was over summer and I was cold. Yeah. Right. And the person that needs their warmth decided, "Well, I could struggle in London cold with not such great weather, or I could come home and struggle with much better weather and beaches." So I chose Australia. Yeah. And, yeah, LA, I went over with a film that was in a film festival, 2015 I think it was. And look, while the festival was on and there was buzz, I loved it. The moment the festival ended and I gave myself another three days to stay there, it was us log. "Who are you again?" "Oh, oh, right. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll call you." Never calls. Like it was such a grind. And some people are fine with that. For me, it ate away at my soul and I just knew I would be risking my mental health if I stayed in LA specifically. I reckon with the right connections and things, I could probably do New York, but this was pre-COVID when I was over there working with a city company, which is now disbanded, unfortunately. But yeah, New York was a vibe and New York was fun, even when I wasn't really working on stuff. But again, quality of life and earning enough money and, you know, to pay the rent, I think we've got it good in Australia or better. I don't know. So when you say you did, you've actually tried, you've done a lot overseas already. And out of all of that, you've gone Australia's where it's at for me. Yeah, I am a medium-sized fish in a small-ish pond in Australia. And overseas, I am a tiny minnow in the sea. Yeah, right. And there are opportunities over there. And again, I kind of hate that analogy as well because it once again relies on success being about recognition. But there's a certain sense of momentum, even peer recognition and momentum, that I just feel like I've established something here in Australia. And I don't know, how personal do I get? When recently presented with the idea of relocating yet again, I couldn't, I went, no, I need to be in Australia. I feel like my communities are here, being my arts community, my queer community and my yoga community, are all here in Australia. And that's, I think, a connection to a community is something that is so amazing to be part of but also can take time to build. So if you had said yes and you do go, you absolutely could have created new communities overseas and you can anywhere in the world, but they do take time, don't they? And once you're in them, and they become a safe place and they become a way to live. It's a question that the answer changes, I think, as you move through your decades. So something really freeing about in your 20s, relocating and starting again, there's kind of less groundwork that you've sown into. Being in my late 30s and starting again, far out. There's a lot of regrowing of seeds and a lot of kind of time that I just, I asked myself, am I up for that? And the answer was no. How do you find then doing touring jobs? I know you've done a few, both theatre and education and then bigger theatrical touring jobs. Are they different because they're short term? So far most of my touring work has been within Australia and so that feels fine. There was one particular independent production that we were lucky enough, Shane Anthony and I, were lucky enough to take, my name is Rachel Corrie to Singapore, but that was three days. And when you've got work, going overseas is fabulous. At the times when it's been good overseas is when I've been in work. So we're really talking about what is the cost of being overseas not in work. Like if your work is no longer the thing that supports you and supports your mental health, where else are you deriving your purpose from? Right? And it comes back to community. So your touring is great, touring is wonderful and I often use it to take my dog with me and see the world and go for explorers and things and enjoy travelling, which I love to do. And it's just done in the safety backbone of having a job that's taking me there. Like it's the ideal thing, right? And taking your dog is genius. Now that I have a cat, I'm like, "Ah, if I get like a touring job, I have to miss my cat." You know, and my husband, but there's, you know, it's funny how that like adds an extra element of like, "Aw." "Do I want to do that work, I'll be away from my family." "Totally. The kids are kids, right?" This episode of An Actor Survives is proudly sponsored by Actors Centre Australia, your gateway to a successful career in the performing arts. Are you ready to study stage and screen at one of Australia's most prestigious acting institutions, known for nurturing exceptional talent that's taken the world by storm? With alumni starring in hit series on streaming platforms, domestic and international TV, film and theatres worldwide and supported by Hollywood superstar Hugh Jackwin as its patron, apply today and become part of our legendary legacy. Auditions for the Bachelor of Performing Arts degree are just around the corner, starting on November 13th in Sydney. And guess what? If you're from out of town or even from overseas, you can audition digitally. The 2024 academic year begins in February, so don't wait. Seize this incredible opportunity and secure your place today while applications are still open. Visit ActorsCentreAustralia.com.au to apply and kickstart your career in the performing arts. Join us at Actors Centre Australia, where your calling and craft ignite. Apply now. Your future in the performing arts begins here. Do you have a particular method that you follow when you are working on a role? Or when you're not working on a role, just a general acting method that you follow? In life? No, yes, is my answer, sort of loosely based on Stanislavski. So I do like kind of knowing an objective. I do love playing with actions. I use my imagination over method. I think that's more powerful. That said, I will use a lot of personalisation and substitution. Little of a column A, little of a column B. Whatever works for the project and the role in the medium. Do you in between jobs take classes to learn about any of the many acting methods or anything? I often teach them now. Yeah, of course! So I teach for a fabulous theatre company called Chop Logic, run by Tina Mitchell and Shane Anthony. I've done a workshop with Tina, doesn't she live in America? She does. She kind of splits her time. So she'll be back over here in January next year and we'll be running a workshop. Oh great, this will be out by then. That is focused on viewpoints, devising and laban. Yeah, I did a laban, laban. Sure. Australians usually say a laban and the Europeans usually say laban. I think laban is probably more accurate. I said laban for ages and then someone told me no, it's laban. It's laban. Anyway, she did a laban/laban workshop and Suzuki and it was like a two-day workshop and I did it, this was a long time ago now but it was a few years after drama school and I kind of went, I just want to check back in on those methods just to get in my body again and be reminded of how those particular styles of theatre work and it was amazing, actually. The workshop was really, really good. There's so much value in learning, regardless of whatever it is. Now that you say that, I now realise, yes, I have done a lot and they've usually been like acting, coaching, workshops. So Mary Moss at which, unfortunately, I had a horrible experience, Leonard Sheldon I've done some coaching with and another name I will drop who is excellent and if you ever get a chance to work with her, say yes, it doesn't matter what you need to do to make it happen, Miranda Harcourt is phenomenal and I credit Miranda with getting me a bunch of different roles because I would get auditions and I would do short half-hour Zoom workshops with her and her use of time, her specificity, she is the real deal. She's a really amazing person to do some coaching with. So she often runs workshops through MEAA and the Hub too I think. So if you ever get a chance to do work with Miranda Harcourt, do it. Do you mind saying that you had a horrible experience with Larry Moss on the recording? No. I mean, okay, do you want to expand on that? I can. I mean, it's up to you. I just flagged that as sometimes people don't like to have. No, I said that knowing that it couldn't very well be published. Look, I'm not saying that everyone will have a horrible experience with Larry Moss. I think, unfortunately, he picked a way of interacting with me that was not what he expected it to be and it was incredibly triggering for me. This is interesting, right? Like you can audit these things and you can workshop these things and I watch Larry and he is in hindsight, I can say this now, always incredibly supportive of the actor, but the way in which he tries to evoke breakthroughs, like we're talking large quantum leaps in work, sometimes comes as like super supportive, playful light, gentle even, and sometimes it's pushing and I think what he does really well and most of the time, you know, no one has a 100% success rate is he reads who are the people that need the shove and who are the people that just need the lightness of touch. Now I come across as quite a self assured, strong, forthright person and I think he read that as I will give you strong back, I will give you the shove and I am so hypersensitive that I don't need that nor potentially to my own problem to unnecessarily respect that. So when he shoved, I shoved back and it got heated and it got to the point where I remember him saying, listen, if you don't find this useful, then you can leave and I will give you your money back and I really thought about it and I went I really could use that $1400 back. Thank you. And I went, no, because then I become the person that walked out of the Larry Moss workshop. So I went, no, I'll stay and he went, good girl, she felt terribly patronizing at the time. But at the end he then asked me, you know, and what, what, what have you learned? What can you take away from this? And I remember saying, Larry, I've learned not to give away my power to white men like yourself. Wow. And that really was the learning from that because they then watched gorgeous Lizzie Schbester get up and he read Lizzie and went, I will use gentleness, or maybe it was because it was after me getting up there and, you know, being in tears, being in hysterics, not being able to control my breathing, you know, we would say in psychology speak, my nervous system was entirely dysregulated. I don't, I don't believe that you can do good creativity from that place of a dysregulated nervous system. Yeah. My belief. And so then I watched him be incredibly gentle, beautiful, supportive of Lizzie Schbester, who appeared, I haven't asked her, but appeared to have a really good, positive experience. He's not a bad human. I think he's, he offers a lot. It's an intense experience. I think he thinks intensity therefore equals good. He uses a lot of psychology entry points because he's done a lot of therapy. He's not a trained therapist. These are two important things to note. He's not a bad guy. He just, for me, picked the wrong entry point and it completely threw my, my ability to regulate my nervous system out and I was in tears and snotty and freaking out and panicking on stage. In front of a hundred and thirty industry people watching. Yeah. Yeah. That's so, yeah. That's so interesting. I think a lot of acting coaches do have that kind of attitude towards teaching about that whole, you know, kind of break, break you down and then build from that place. And, and I agree that I think, how can you possibly have good work? And I think I've said this on the podcast before, but I, I did a thing some time ago where me and my scene partner were basically just completely torn apart. We'd been, we'd been getting great feedback for the whole term and on all this, all of this. And then the day of the performance, we got told, like, what happened to you? You were doing this amazing work and now it's, you know, rubbish. And basically we're just completely torn down. And I was so upset because I'd worked so, so hard and so had my scene partner. And I remember we went into a different room and we played the scene trying to work on it, but we were both so devastated that we'd been, you know, there were much stronger words from the acting coaches, by the by. And we were so upset that we literally, as we were doing the scene, we were like throwing stuff and we were just like legitimately as our stress, feeling our, feeling our feelings just completely distressed then. And that was like, you know, an hour before the show, then we get up and do the show and you know, it goes really well. And then the acting coaches came up to us and go, see, you can do it. And I remember what cost, that's why. And afterwards I thought, Oh, okay. And then now, now I've that time and hindsight and therapy, I go, what did I learn? What are you trying to teach me? Are you trying to teach me that I have to be so upset, think that I'm the worst actor ever, be that distressed and snotty nosed and all of that in order to play a scene really well. What if I had to do that scene eight times a week? Do I have to constantly, therefore, as Emily, be that upset and have my nervous system in that? And at the time, Emily, we can now do better. Yes. I think there was. And again, this was a while ago. When ends justified the means, but we now have solid research. I cannot pronounce his name. The Hale Chehevslikol, the creator of flow state. Yeah. Yes. We now have evidence that our best creativity happens in what is called flow state. The brief explanation of that is, it's not so challenging that we are dysregulated out of our window of tolerance and, you know, crying, snotty nosed, panicked. It's not so challenging that it's that. And it's also not so boring that we then lose interest and become apathetic. We have the appropriate level of tools to navigate the situation. That's where our best creativity happens, and it's often known as play. I think there was an era, and my drama school days were of this era where it didn't, it crying and big emotional spikes, which we would now call outside one's window of tolerance or a dysregulated nervous system equals an amazing moment of breakthrough. It doesn't have to be that way. No. I think the coaching of what happened to you, horrible, horrible, I will tell you much better ways to say that. This is where we need craft. Hey, I feel like we've lost the sense of listening. I feel like we're letting the stakes drop. I think we need to re-remind ourselves how important this scene is, or I feel what might be starting to happen is you're preempting. How can you swap roles, read each other's lines, let the scene be right? Everything I've said has nothing to do with the humor that you are and everything to do with your craft. This is better. It's also you going, "I feel like this might be happening." You're also putting it in a, "Hey, this is what I'm observing rather than you are doing this wrong." You're already in the position of power if you are the drama coach or the facilitator. That's what I was going to say because you said about those two different ways of learning and things. I'm the one that, I'm hypersensitive as well, and so I need that kind of more gentleness. I would automatically, and I've really worked hard at this, but I would automatically put teachers on an epic pedestal. I'm already putting them up there and going, everything they say I have to, I use the term guru-wise. I'm not guru-wise with these people, and I've had to learn how to not do that and go, "Oh, actually I can stand on my own two feet and collaborate and do this." A good teacher would see that and go, "Oh, they're guruing me. Actually what this student needs, here's my theory on teaching. If you are a good teacher, you eventually make yourself redundant because you teach them how to be their own teacher." So a good teacher sees, "Ah, they're doing the guru thing." So I need to somehow bolster and lift up their own sense of being able to assess their work. How do you feel it's going? Do you feel like it's still there? Okay, interesting if the response is yes or whatever, interesting. From the outside, I feel like we've lost some stakes or whatever. Let's try it this way. "Ah, a moment of learning. Ah, great." Great. Then you learn how to reassess your work, and it hasn't come at the cost of, "Oh, I'm a bad human." "What's happened to you guys? What a horrible sentence." What's happened is the creative process has happened. Ebsen flows ups and downs. We're in the pocket, we're not. You would never say to Sam Kerr missing a goal, "What's happened to you?" "What happened to Sam Kerr? She's got a calf injury. She wasn't able to train as much, and her skill level is like in that moment, she even says herself, "I probably would have normally got that in, and I haven't had as much training." That's in answer to what's happened to you. Let's not focus on the human. Let's look at skill. Let's look at craft. Yeah. Healthy. So true. So something that's really interesting that I have learned since getting a fur baby, my dog, Beau, Border Collie, he's excellent, is when you train a dog, the scientifically best proven method is positive reinforcement. It creates long-lasting skills, it creates fast learning, and it creates a happier dog. Now, we're all animals. There's scientific evidence that all nervous systems, whether they be dogs or canaries or humans, usually the majority of them work best with positive reinforcement. The anomalies usually happen because I don't really know enough, but I imagine that something along the way has built up an incredibly strong protective mechanism, and something needs to get through that, and they're so used to deflecting niceties, maybe. I don't know. This is me. I have no therapy training. This is me analyzing, and maybe I have no authority on this, but there is definitely scientific proof that on the whole, most nervous systems prefer positive reinforcement, regardless of the species. Wow. That's so interesting. All right, Jules. Let's do it. What are your top five survival tips for having a career in the arts in Australia? One, find a way to have a sense of purpose and connection that is beyond your career of the arts. Two, sleep. Sleep. That's really good. Three. Hang on. Wait, wait, wait. Two, sleep. Do you have anything to add to that? Do you mean just sleep is important? Yes, sleep is a way to reset your system. Good sleep. So invest in sleep. If you find that you are up until 3 a.m., and then having kind of shit sleep and waking up feeling still tired at 10 a.m., there's room for sleeping better. I say this a little bit from a privileged position because I've never had that much trouble with the sleeping, but I do have friends that are quite insomniacic, made that word up, but you know what I mean. But what I appreciate about them is that they are investing in trying to cultivate better sleep habits. It's so important. Sleep is the thing that helps boost mood mental health. Sleep. I love it. Thank you. Great tip. Closely followed by three. Invest in mental health through things like exercise, moving, singing, eating, getting therapy. Invest in your mental health. Invest in your toolkit of resilience or find a community, find like-minded people. It does not matter if your art is kind of going to be lauded by the big voices, but we need them to be lauded by some voices. It's like my poems that I write, they're never going to get published anywhere, but the few, few people that I share them with are like, "Wow, that one line was cool. Thanks for sharing." I totally see you in this poem. That's what you need. Five, protect your sense of humor at all costs. At the end of the day, you can either cry about something or laugh about something, or actually option C, do both at the same time. Protect your sense of humor. The moment you lose it, you've turned cynical. This is a loss for your creativity, a loss for your community, a loss for your audience and story receivers. Protect your humor and do everything you can to not go down the dark path of cynicism. Wow, may the force be with you. Holy Dooley, what an episode. Thank you so much. Thank you for sharing all of that. It was a pleasure. Yeah, that was amazing. Thank you. I hope you've enjoyed listening to this episode of An Act to Survives with me, Emily McKnight. Don't forget to subscribe, rate, review, follow us on Instagram and share with your friends. Your support means a lot, thanks. The music used in this podcast is an excerpt from SAW, a Marimba Concerto by Roberto Tomo.