Q&A with Plus 1 Solo Show Fest's Glynn Borders

The spring 2014 Plus 1 Solo Show Festival features five 20-minute solo works and musical guest Todd Kramer.  The festival line up:

• Unmolested? by Lynn Bixenspan
• Lucky Chick by Felicity Seidel
• Solo Show by David Meyers
• My Unsexy Life as a Wall Street Analyst by Yangyang Guo
• Sleep Well by Glynn Borders

The festival runs for 2 shows, May 11 and 12 at 8 PM at The Bridge Theatre.  There is an intermission. Purchase $20 tickets online or by phone at 212-868-4444.

Glynn Borders is a talented actor, writer, director and pyrotechnic artist.  He has been a part of three Plus 1 Solo Show Festivals as a performer and one as as a director, so he knows the drill.  We asked him a few questions about his work.

What inspired you to write this piece?

Glynn Borders, illuminating

I have wanted to perform solo shows for a very long time. Even before that was the going name of the craft. Right after college and during the same time period as, Sleep Well, I had a very vivid dream of myself performing my one-man show. It was so real. I could see myself on stage as an older actor. Doing things that I knew I was incapable of doing at the time. And it felt so right, like that was where I was supposed to be. I wish I could remember the story I was telling in that dream. It has been, par for my course, to be a late bloomer in most things in my life, but I have always enjoyed telling original stories. As a shy kid, however, high-spirited, I wrote and drew my own comic books. Soon I was acting out all the parts. I especially enjoyed the responses I got from my peers in the hood. They’re laughter and amazement lead me to try theater as a major in college. Constantly watching the Twilight Zone also inspired my desire to write and to observe the oddities of life. In my twenties and part of my thirties I even tried some stand-up. But solo seemed to be the best way of being onstage alone for me. Silence is frowned upon in a comedy club, but in theater, it’s dramatic. Theater- goers are so refined. Plus I don’t have to come up with anti-drunk-heckler material and still be funny. It actually scares the crap out of me to be onstage by myself. Even more so than riding roller coasters. I mean, if you ever want to see a grown man cry, lock my ass in one of those things and throw the switch. However, the challenge of working in solitude calls to me more than any other art form. Well, except for directing. I love to bring new works to the Plus One Solo Show Festival. Jake has allowed me to test my quirky stories with some success, I think. I am truly grateful for each opportunity. It is nice to be a work in progress.

Tell us about an unexpected problem that arose when performing and how you handled it.
Because of my job, and increasing laziness, I don’t get to perform but once a year. So I don’t get as much practice at my craft as I would like and need. This is my third solo piece with Plus One. In each of the first two, I got lost in my story and could not remember the next line. And yes, I wrote them! In, The Enforcer, it happened. But after a pause and several deep breaths, I found my way back. The audience was totally unaware.

But in, The Pipelayer's Union, I could not find my way back. I was always told that when you study in a good program, your technique or method comes back to you. So I clicked into improvisation mode when I realized my memory and concentration were failing me. I started using the rhythmic motions of the character talking, at the time, to find my next line. The sound and movement improvisation didn’t work. Although it may have only been seconds, it felt like several long minutes had crept by. The audience seemed to be with me so I decided to fess up. I broke character and went into stand-up mode, another form of improv, telling the audience that, “I am presently suffering from the dreaded actor’s nightmare. Here I am on a stage, I don’t know who the hell I am, why I’m here, or why the fuck these people are staring at me”.

They were laughing. “In your training, some will tell you to imagine the audience in their underwear. Sorry but some of ya’ll are wearing really dirty undergarments. Now imagine the crap I got on.” They were laughing more, following me all the way. Then another solo actress came onstage with the book that contained all of our scripts.

“Ah, look, an angel,” I quipped. I took the script and noticed that she did not know where I was. I offered, “You would think that if someone comes onstage to save your ass, they would at least have the decency to have the right fucking page. Why? Because I’m fucking lost!” More laughter. I finally found my page, started reading, and eventually put it down and finished much stronger. The audience was with me all the way. When I was done, during my bow, I held up the script for a rousing ovation. Afterwards, people told me they thought that was part of the show. I think I learned that if you engage an audience from the start they are happy follow you on your journey. Both you as the story, and you as the person. Yes, your technique really does come back to you, even when you’ve been away from your technique for quite some time.