ADILAH BARNES – ACTOR/AUTHOR/TEACHER

Working actor.

What, exactly, does that phrase conjure up for you?  Someone you see every week on television?  A name above the title on a couple of feature films each year?  Or perhaps an actor, teacher and author such as Adilah Barnes, who is a whirlwind of activity, year in and year out.

Adilah may not be a native Angelena, but she is a native Californian, having grown up in a tiny town called Oroville, in the Sacramento Valley.  “Oroville is the closest thing to a southern town you can imagine, both in terms of its redneck faction and its gentility.  It was a very interesting place in which to grow up and I experienced “the South” without ever leaving California!  In my particular neighborhood, it truly was like the proverbial village, where everyone helped raise everyone else’s children.

“In my own family, for example, you had first generation southerners from Mississippi, Texas, Arkansas, etc., who had come to the Golden State, looking for a better way of life.  But they also brought the best that they could with them from the South, too.”

We wanted to know if Adilah was encouraged in her artistic pursuits as she was growing up, not only by her immediate family, but by her friends and neighbors, as well.  After all, acting probably was not the first thing on anyone’s mind in those days.

“The answer to that is ‘No’, Adilah tells us.  “I didn’t even know myself that I was going to be an actress until I left home and went away to college.  However…when I was 16, I wound up in a summer program at Chico State (College), called Upward Bound.  It was for kids who were considered financially ‘disadvantaged’; a 3-summer program, designed to prepare them for college.  During my first summer there, I performed in my very first play – I was The Queen in ‘The Ugly Duckling’.  Interestingly, it was cast multi-racially, so I began my career with non-traditional casting.  My husband was Caucasian with brown hair and eyes; our daughter was a blue-eyed blonde; and her suitor was African-American.  As I mention in my book, I referred to us as ‘mix-n-match majesty’!

“You see, my first play exposed me to the idea that anything is possible.  We were cast by the director according to who he thought best fit the part and it had nothing whatsoever to do with race.  It was truly a wonderful beginning.”

Back at her high school in Oroville, it never occurred to Adilah to become involved in the drama department – and to this day, she isn’t quite sure why.  Instead, she became one of the class valedictorians, senior class secretary, Girl of the Month, editor of the school paper, and she joined several service clubs.  But she preferred to pursue her acting interests elsewhere.

Perhaps Adilah’s thankfully short bout with petit mal epilepsy affected her self-confidence and belief that she could shine on a public stage.  It struck when she was in 5th Grade and lasted through 8th Grade or thereabouts.  Very few people have much knowledge of this form of epilepsy, but in Adilah’s case, it manifested itself in sudden trance-like states, which left her not knowing where she had just been.  Imagine how frightening that would be for a child.  It certainly wouldn’t lend itself to a feeling of security that one could handle a part in a play; this may well have been the root cause of Adilah’s reluctance to participate in school plays.

“By the time I arrived at Upward Bound, my self-esteem was pretty low.  But they apparently saw me as a diamond in the rough and they really nurtured me, and cared for me, and encouraged me.  I ultimately became a real leader there and transferred what I learned in that wonderful environment to my life in high school.”

Adilah took more acting classes at Chico State the following two summers.  After graduating from high school, she went to the University of California Santa Cruz, where she concentrated on acting.  As a child, she had always thought she would wind up being an English teacher, but her acting experiences at UCSC, where she also co-founded the Black Magic Theatre Company, became her ‘aha!’ moment, when she decided that acting was the field for her.

Back at home, Adilah’s mother was somewhat surprised by her choice of careers.  “She wondered why I would choose a life where the divorce rate is so high and the success rate is so…iffy.  Plus, no one in my family had ever even thought about pursuing a career like this.  But once I began to be a successful working actor, my mother became my biggest cheerleader.  She was incredibly proud of me.”

One of Adilah’s most notable achievements is her highly successful one-woman show, “I Am That I Am, Woman Black”, which has toured throughout the country and to several foreign ones, as well.  She explained how it evolved:

“Back in the mid-80s, I was touring the country with the African-American Drama Company, out of San Francisco.  We were doing two separate shows in repertory:  I was in the version about historical women and the company director was in the one about historical men.  He and I would perform these shows at various venues together.  There came an occasion when I was sent on the road by myself, for some reason.  Well, when they handed me the envelope with the check for that performance, it happened to be unsealed.  I opened it up and when I saw the amount of the check, all I could think was ‘Oh, my god.  That’s what he gets for me?!’  Comparing it to what he was paying me, I realized I’d better create my own show.  So, I did!

“Shortly after moving to L.A. in the early 90s, I happened to notice an ad calling for applications for something called the Window Grant (sorry, but it no longer exists).  It was being offered by the Cultural Affairs office of the city.  One of the items that was required to be submitted was a letter from some organization stating that, should you receive the grant, they would allow you to perform at their venue.  I decided to go after senior citizen centers for two reasons:  One, they were being underserved; and two, they would be my least critical audience, which it turned out they were, because they just loved my show.

“Well, after that first grant, I obtained another, so that I could take the show to children’s venues.  From that point, it took on a life of its own.  My niece joined me and we formed Adilah Barnes Productions, which allowed us to sign on with booking organizations, and they started booking my show anywhere and everywhere.  We concentrate on the college circuit.  To date, I’ve performed in 41 states and on three continents.  I’m trying to maintain enough juice to make it to all 50 states and I only have 9 more to go!”

Financially, touring with her own production has been a tremendous boon to Adilah.  “I once participated in a showcase, through the National Association of Campus Activities, that resulted in 38 bookings for my show!  Thirty-eight!  From one regional showcase!  At that point, I thought, ‘Oh, my.  If I’m ever going to buy a home, now is the time to do it.’  And so I did.  The down payment on my house – the one I still live in – came from my one-woman show.  Whenever work might seem a little slow, all I have to do is look around at the four walls that surround me and remind myself (and anyone else within earshot) that it is, indeed, possible to make a living as a performer.

“I point that out (and there’s an entire chapter in my book about touring), because I want other artists to know that it is possible to create your own vehicle and to get that vehicle to serve you, so that you become autonomous.  This show has not only empowered me; it has supported me for many years.”

In addition to the financial benefits associated with touring a show such as this, Adilah rejoices in the caliber of students and audience members she has been fortunate enough to meet.  “These young people represent our future and I am so impressed, especially during the Q & A sessions that follow the play, by their inquisitiveness and lively interest in the subject matter.  Additionally, I have had the wonderful experience of portraying seven African-American women who have contributed greatly to the fabric of our society.”  The tour has also, as would be expected, provided Adilah  with the opportunity to travel and see parts of the country – and the world! – she might otherwise have missed.  In fact, as we write this, she’s making plans to return to Holland for another run of the show, and to conduct workshops and acting classes.

An interesting benefit of portraying these historical figures was revealed when Adilah was cast in “Iron Jawed Angels” on HBO.  “When I auditioned for this, I was so prepared for the role of someone like Ida B. Wells, that she was just a natural fit for me.  When the booking came through, I really wasn’t surprised, since I had so much experience playing historical African-American figures.”

Adilah is very proud of the Los Angeles Women’s Theater Festival, which she co-founded in 1993.  She no longer performs there herself, preferring to leave space for others, since she has the international tours to keep her busy when she isn’t performing on-camera.  “We have now produced over 400 solo artists from around the globe.  We also have an arm of the festival that sends teaching artists into schools, both during and after school hours, and we’ve served over 3,000 kids thus far.”

Many actors have had the benefit of Adilah Barnes’ teaching.  Her classes consist of students at all levels.  “For one thing, I have very little time for teaching nowadays, so I can’t spread the work out to too many students.  But more importantly, I realized long ago that actors learn from each other.  The beginners learn early on that they must strive to keep up with the more advanced students in the room, which can accelerate their learning curve.  The ones at “the head of the class”, so to speak, are role models who have to accept the responsibility that goes along with that distinction.  I know that some other acting teachers might disagree with that concept, but I have found that this dynamic works for us.”

When asked to share some insights into dos and don’ts that she encounters with various students, Adilah said, “One of the things that I see – perhaps not frequently, but often enough to notice – is people who claim that they want to be working professional actors, yet they do not commit to the responsibility that goes with that.  I mean by that studying; keeping their acting chops in shape by using the classroom like a gym for acting;  doing their homework, so that their characters are well-shaped; etc.  There are those who think that because they have a natural talent, they don’t have to work at it.  They apparently don’t understand that they might be limiting themselves to certain kinds of roles because they don’t challenge themselves by doing some hard work.

“I encourage all actors to support each other and attend each others’ performances, be it on stage or on camera, because I believe you can learn a lot by observation.  Some actors just don’t get the value in that – they’re of the “it’s all about me” mind-set, not about the craft, not about learning, stretching, growing.  Sometimes, actors become comfortable where they are and that’s where they stay.”

Coincidentally, Adilah teaches a class called “So You Want To Come To Hollywood” when she’s on the road.  Just as we at HollywoodPassport.net do, Adilah strongly suggests that actors from outside of Hollywood prepare as much as possible before coming here.  “Do the research”, she says, “Get a copy of the ‘Working Actor’s Guide’, which is like the bible for actors, and ‘The Agencies’, which lists all of the L.A. agents and their specialties.  Also be sure, before coming, that your instrument is well-oiled and that you’ve gone as far as you can go in your particular home town.  You may be living in a place that doesn’t offer anything in the way of on-camera work or even training, but your stage work counts for a lot.  Make sure your resume reflects all of that hard work.  If you’re lucky enough to know someone who is already pursuing an acting career here, ask them for their advice and opinions, at least if you trust them.”

If you’re interested in applying to join one of Adilah’s classes, you have a couple of choices:  You can go to her website, www.AdilahBarnes.com, where you’ll find more information about the classes; or you can call (818) 679-2086.

You can purchase Adilah Barnes’ lively book, “On My Own Terms” (http://www.onmyownterms.net/),  at Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/My-Own-Terms-Adilah-Barnes/dp/1425790089

Finally, if you’re a writer yourself and a woman (sorry, fellas), Adilah has created a literary retreat in Atlanta, called The Writer’s Well.  “We provide a very serene and inspirational environment for women writers.  There is information about that on my website, too.”

Adilah Barnes.  Working actor.

EDITOR’S NOTE:  This week, 4/27/09, Adilah will be in Washington, D.C., as an invited guest, as the White House unveils a tribute to Sojourner Truth, one of the historical women Adilah portrays in “I Am That I Am, Woman Black”.  For more on this, click here: http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-artislane28-2009apr28,0,4818660.story

L.A. TIMES DISCUSSES EXTRA WORK DURING TOUGH TIMES

The following article from the Los Angeles Times of April 5, 2009, offers an interesting perspective on the pros and cons of attempting to do extra (background) work, espcially for anyone who thinks it provides a “quick fix” for financial woes.  The article speaks for itself:

MOVIES: EXTRA EXTRAS

Background players are coming out of the woodwork, swelling the ranks of Hollywood hopefuls as tough times put on the squeeze.

By JODIE BURKE

Nathan Johnson has landed in one of the longest unemployment lines in Los Angeles. Just another face in the crowd, Johnson is here because he’s hoping to get a job as, yes, just another face in the crowd. But the crowd keeps getting bigger every day.

The lobby at Central Casting is so packed it seems impossible that one more person could squeeze through the door. Johnson, 30, handsome and elegant in a crisp, white shirt, has been waiting to sign up for an hour. “It feels like two hours,” he says, eyeing the registration desk. It’s only a few feet away, but it will take a lot of patience to reach it. “I’m an EMT,” he says, gazing around the congested room with the sort of dignity that Will Smith might envy. Utter cool in a crisis. “If someone goes into cardiac arrest, I’m there.”

Johnson has been out of work for two years. He injured his shoulder, which made it impossible for him to do the heavy lifting required in his medical tech job, and he’s seen the toll of the recession all around him. “All my friends who owned houses are out of them now,” he says. He grew up in Venice, but when the housing boom hit, his old beachside neighborhood became gentrified almost overnight. “The past five years was kind of a greed session, and now everybody’s got a hangover.”

Background artists, also known as “atmosphere” or extras, are the folks whose mere presence on the set makes the land of make-believe seem real. They are the entertainment industry’s most reliable temporary workers and, since 1926, Central Casting has been supplying the creators of feature films, TV shows and commercials with most of them. Three days a week, for one hour, Central registers anyone 18 or over with a spare 25 bucks (cash only) and the documentation to prove they’re legal to work in the United States to be a nonunion extra with the company.

There’s no interview to sweat. No psychological tests to take. No experience required. Nonunion extras make a humble $64 a day and must follow strict orders: Never look at the camera. Never speak to principal actors or the director. Stay out of the way. Basically, keep your head down and your mouth shut.

Clutching their identification cards as tightly as their dreams, people have always flooded into Central Casting looking for work, taking that first step to become a star. Brad Pitt was discovered here. So were Eva Longoria Parker, Kelly Clarkson, Ronald Reagan and Ava Gardner. But more people are signing up to be extras than ever before — and becoming famous, or even an actor, isn’t the reason why.

“Whenever there’s a downturn in the economy, we see an increase in the number of people applying for background work,” says Allen Kennamer, vice president of Central Casting. “The line started getting longer right after the first of the year,” he says. “It started to double in size.” Lately Central’s been registering more and more people, about 300 a week, a total of 50,000, for noticeably fewer jobs.

This warehouse building on an industrial, dead-end street in Burbank is an interesting window into the recession in Southern California: It’s where anxious folks from all walks of life, not only the entertainment industry, come seeking a big break.

Brian Estwick, 42, is a chess teacher. Until last December, he taught at an after-school program in Pacific Palisades but lost his job when the funding was cut. Estwick has never done professional acting, but his family’s been encouraging him to try. “My brother’s been pushing me to come in because I’ve got a different look,” he says. When asked to describe it, he laughs, an earthquake rumbling through 320 pounds of muscle. “The guy from ‘The Green Mile’: an athletic, big black guy.”

If he does land background work, it seems unlikely that he’ll stay there long. Estwick hasn’t even registered and already his overall shorts, black clogs and smart-as-an-owl glasses are attracting a lot of attention. “I got lucky today,” he says. “As soon as I walked in, a casting director came out from the back, told me I had a good look and took my name.”

“Casting extras is like painting with people,” notes David Feige, co-creator and supervising producer of TNT’s legal show “Raising the Bar.” The show, which is shot in Los Angeles, is based on Feige’s real-life experience as a public defender in the Bronx, N.Y. Feige didn’t know much about Hollywood when he arrived and was fascinated by the process. “The extras casting really made an impression on me,” Feige says.

For the pilot, he helped select people to fill in the jury and crowd the hallways and courtroom. “I remember vividly sitting down and they pulled out an ocean of pictures. It was crazy,” he says. “The possibilities are so vast. You really are creating this universe, and you can populate it with almost anyone. ‘What we need is an old guy with a walker.’ ‘OK, here’s 50.’ Of course the process of choosing is oddly dehumanizing, precisely because you’ve never spoken a word to any of these people and ultimately you’re evaluating them as textures rather than individuals. Like pointillism, it’s only when you step back and your eye scans over the whole group that you get the effect of the individual choices.”

Christina Tucker, 45, is hoping to get temporary work as an extra after being laid off from a 27-year career as a postproduction audio technician. She’s worked on big hits: “Law & Order,” “Ghost Whisperer” and “House.” “Scooby Doo,” her most recent employer, dogged her with a pink slip last April. “Warner Bros. cut the whole animation department in January 2008. They cut it [by a] third,” she says, emphasizing that fraction. “Now I’m just trying to find a chair.” That’s what the sound techies call it when you’re looking for your next big job.

The Central Casting line moves forward and the blond, suburban soccer mom inches along. “My son did this seven years ago,” she says. “He got bumped up on two commercials and wound up making $50,000.” The number causes a few nearby heads to turn. The money helped the family get through a difficult economic time before. Tucker’s hoping she’ll have similar luck now. “At least it’s worth a try,” she says. “I’ve had ups and downs in the industry before, but I didn’t really think it was going to last this long.”

–

Opportunity wanes

As the recession deepens across California, Hollywood’s extra casting reflects a Catch-22: The labor pool is growing at a time when film studios are shedding staff and dropping projects, independent filmmakers are finding it harder to raise financing, and television studios are making more reality TV shows that don’t require atmosphere and far fewer dramas and comedies that do.

“There’s a lot less work to go around,” says Kevin Goldson, a casting associate with Idell James Castingin Pacific Palisades, a company that competes with Central Casting but focuses strictly on advertising. That industry experienced sharp declines in 2008 when advertisers, particularly the automotive industry, which favored Los Angeles as a location for many of its car commercials, cut back on spending.

According to FilmL.A., the nonprofit organization that hands out permits for the city and keeps track of local filming, on-location commercial production days was down 17.4% in the fourth quarter of 2008, compared with the same quarter of 2007. It suffered a loss of 10.9% for the year. “It’s very slow and a lot of people are worried, because a lot of people did extra work for a living,” Goldson says. “When the budgets are cut, where they cut is the background because it’s cheaper to shoot with less people.”

The picture doesn’t get any sunnier for feature films: 2008 was the worst year for local feature production since FilmL.A. began tracking it in 1993. The major studios are making fewer movies, and they’re not shooting many of them in California anymore. Feature production in Los Angeles has been down 10 of the last 12 years. The number of production days FilmL.A. logged for 2008 is half of what it was during its most recent peak in 1996 and is a record low.

Television production, often called the bread and butter of the industry, remains the one bright spot on the local production landscape, but that is mostly because of reality programming. Production days in reality TV rose 19% in 2008. Sometimes talk shows and game shows will hire extras to fill out their audiences, but scripted television provides most of the background jobs, and those numbers tell a much different story.

Sitcom production days fell 25.3% from 2007. Dramas fared better, taking on a modest gain of 6.9%. But pilot production dropped 40.8%, partly because of the WGA strike. And this year, of the 39 hourlong pilots ordered by the major networks, at least 20 are scheduled to shoot out of town, according to Variety. That leaves only about 20 pilots to be shot locally. “Normally, it’s three times that,” Kennamer says.

While the unemployment rate for Los Angeles County rose to 10.9% in February, trying to pinpoint an unemployment rate for the entertainment industry makes even the economists’ heads spin. It turns out there is no number. But there have been job cuts at studios across town as parent companies try to control costs.

Show runners and producers are feeling the pinch, and many anticipate further cutbacks. With more and more laid-off people turning to background work to make ends meet, will there actually be much call for them?

CBS’ “Without a Trace” had its budget sealed in May 2008, before the economy fell apart, and the show is not cutting back on extras. “We tend to hold onto the bigger scenes because they add more production value,” says executive producer Greg Walker. “The bigger the scope, it has a wider cinematic feel, so the show doesn’t feel closed in.”

“Right now we’re down on the back lot of Warner Bros. and have dressed it as Chinatown and I didn’t cut back one extra,” says Scott White, “Without a Trace’s” co-executive producer. “That’s what gives the scene life. Right now we’re not forced to make those decisions.” But if the show gets picked up for its eighth season, Walker and White might be forced to make a different decision.

“The studio and network are going to be downsizing their budget, cutting back 10%,” says White. “Creatively, taking extras out of a show is a bad move, but in expectation of budget cuts we will cut back on our general allowance for atmosphere.” With regard to the unemployed people lined up at Central Casting eager to land background work, White adds, “I feel for those folks over there.”

–

Making a success of it

Jian Najac, 36, is one of the lucky ones. He’s built a career others dream about, turning random, unstable background work into a steady, well-paying job.

His advice? “Buy a couple of good suits and figure out what type of person you are. I know this well: I went from a homeless guy to a G-man overnight.”

With long hair that fell past his butt, Najac started as a nonunion extra with Central in 2003. He booked a few jobs as a prison inmate or street thug, but crime wasn’t paying. “One day I cut my hair and almost overnight I was allowed to join the union,” Najac says, speaking from the set of “Without a Trace” where, with a clean-shaven jaw and close-cropped hair, he plays one of the show’s regular FBI agents. He also carries a badge on “The Mentalist,” all three “CSIs” and “Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles.”

It takes three Screen Actors Guild vouchers to move from nonunion to the higher-paying, health insurance-providing union jobs. But acquiring those vouchers is tricky, a matter of hustle and luck. Najac says that befriending the first assistant director can be a good strategy, but sometimes it just comes down to a union extra failing to show up. “By contract, the productions are required to hire a certain number of SAG extras,” he explains, “So say you have one arm, and they need a one-armed guy — you get the voucher that day.”

Najac won his first SAG voucher when he booked an extra gig on “The West Wing.” “Me and another guy were dressed up as SWAT officers. We were in Griffith Park on one side of a ravine and they wanted us to run through the woods, over a lot of fallen trees and sharp brush. So the first A.D. says, ‘Is that OK?’ And I looked at him and said, ‘I might be a little underpaid for this.’

“I went for it and got it,” Najac says.

Kevin Jessup, 54, wanted to get into acting in the 1980s but then he got married, had four kids and decided it would be a better idea to install water heaters for Sears. He did that for 13 years, then owned a couple of pizza places in San Jacinto — until Wal-Mart opened a store nearby and drove him out of business. When his wife died, Jessup, who sports a gray mustache and rides a 6-foot-tall unicycle, decided it was time to give his old dream a shot again. The kids were grown. He had his wife’s Social Security to count on.

“I’ve got a good work ethic. I’m well-mannered. That goes a long way in this particular job,” he says, sinking into a folding chair by the window, waiting for his son to register with Central Casting. Jessup signed up last June and inspired all four of his kids and his 82-year-old mother to become extras. He works a couple of times a week and is now SAG eligible but hasn’t paid the $2,335 initiation fee to join the union.

“It’s kind of tough in this economy,” Jessup says. “We live in Hemet, which is quite a drive. Over the summer when gas prices shot way up, I was spending $45 to make $65.” Still, his eyes twinkle at the thought of it. “You can’t look back on your life and say you didn’t try.”

Los Angeles Times – Los Angeles, Calif.
Subjects:     Recessions
Author:     Jodie Burke
Date:     Apr 5, 2009
Start Page:     D.1
Section:     Sunday Calendar; Part D; Calendar Desk