Katie Becker | Actor, Director, Educator

Katie's Latest News:

Posted: 04/08/2012 08:36 AM

Oedipus photos are up! Check out my Acting Gallery for the full spread.

But here's a couple to whet your photo-viewing appetite:

Posted: 02/17/2012 05:15 PM

The production photos from Wooden Snowflakes are in! The show was produced by Duke City Repertory Theatre and ran from December 8th - 18th, 2011. More photos with headings can be found by clicking on "The Director" box above and then selecting "Gallery" from the green bar.

But here's a smattering for now!

Posted: 02/03/2012 01:40 PM

I've been in Albuquerque for four weeks now, rehearsing the pants off of Oedipus the King. The process has been energizing and transformative in that every artist working on the production is committed to risking daily in rehearsal and learning as quickly and effectively as possible; but also because I've had the good fortune to live in actor housing with my main squeeze (who is playing Oedipus) and the director, who is a mentor, a friend, and a scientist of acting.

Rehearsal spills into our living room conversations. And what we ate for breakfast becomes fodder for rehearsal. For the past four weeks, it seems that we have been having a continuous conversation about the art and craft of creating theatre and how many of the common practices in the theatre community are not necessarily the most effective practices.

Like memorizing. Why would we try to remember our lines? A character will never do that. Instead, we can rehearse needing the words to get to the next moment.

Or the read-through. Or the off-book rehearsal. Why have we condemned those rehearsals to being "just" this or "just" that? Instead, we can allow them to be as risky and compelling and illuminating as every other rehearsal.

We go into tech tomorrow and I am excited to continue the experiment of making character-driven choices whenever possible. Allowing my character to live in the clothing, the space, with the new light. Allowing myself to follow each impulse I have in order to navigate the pestilence-filled square of space that equals Thebes.

And remembering constantly: I, the actor and the character, am capable of much more than I think I am. Always.

Posted: 12/26/2011 08:29 PM

Oof! Since I last wrote, I journeyed to the High Desert of New Mexico and worked for five weeks with the Best Theatre Troupe in Albuquerque: Duke City Repertory Theatre. I directed Wooden Snowflakes, a beautiful holiday play by my good friend Cathy Bush. A brief synopsis? Sure, I'll oblige. During a Kentucky ice storm, Eve, a cynical and world-weary woman, slides her car off the road and is forced to take refuge in the home of Simon, a man who believes fervently in God and Santa Claus. Throughout the course of the play, new truths are illuminated for both of the characters and they discover the power of belief in one another.

My major goal for the production was to trust myself. Trust that I had studied the play so thoroughly that I could follow my impulses and instincts throughout the rehearsal process. In rehearsing other plays, I learned that I missed a lot of what was happening between characters because I was searching for the answers in my notes and in the script. With this play, I experimented with an idea: what if the answers are within the rehearsal room, waiting to be unearthed by me and the actors? What if I know the script so well that I can spend rehearsal time listening with my entire self?

It was a very successful experiment. I felt confident when the play opened that it was in service to the audience - that the play was worthy of their attention because the pursuit of truth in every moment was central to every rehearsal and, consequently, every performance. Leaving the play in the hands of the actors and the wonderful stage manager was not as jarring as it had been for past productions because we shared the challenges of the play together and found solutions as a group.

Posted: 10/26/2011 04:33 PM

To act is to do. I say this to the students I teach all the time. Acting isn't being; it is doing.

I've experienced the truth of this statement in my days at Navy Pier this month. I'm playing a little girl named Milliveca...

And I go out on "the floor" - the South Dock - with two incredible physical actors who play human marionettes. They have elastic around their wrists and attached to their back; the other end of the elastic is attached to two wooden crosses that I carry behind them. The illusion is that I'm their puppetmaster.

We reach our stage - a two-level scaffold - and they crumple on the lower level while I detach their "travel strings" and attach their "stage strings," the stage strings being elastic that is attached to wooden crosses at the top of the scaffold.

I detach and reattach strings in silence. And crowds of people stop to watch. 50 - 75 people at the beginning and the end of every show. They stop to watch because I am DOING something. And struggling - the wind is blowing and wig hair blows into my mouth and across my eyes, I have a straw purse that doesn't stay up on my shoulder, the stage is tiny. But the struggle makes the action even more fascinating. When it is more difficult, people, especially children, stay for the entire changing-of-the-strings.

It is a beautiful reminder that we, as actors, are enough. Our commitment and concentration to the characters (puppetmaster and puppets) and the task at hand (changing of strings) is fascinating. And there is meaning generated for the audience - a story! - without any words or music or spectacle.

Posted: 09/13/2011 03:11 PM

Three weeks in Chicago and three big lessons I've learned:

1. This is going to take some time. Ezra, (Mr. Equity actor boyfriend) and I met with a casting director at one of the big Equity houses here and he encouraged us to take our time and get to know the theatre companies and the community. See productions and determine whether or not we would be a good fit for that company. Audition with their playing space in mind. Take classes and make connections in the theatre community. We were grateful for the advice and I realized (and this is something I didn't think about when I lived here four years ago) that planting roots in the Chicago theatre community will take some time - just like the roots of any other living organism.

2. It takes an hour to get just about anywhere. On the El, on the bus, in the car - one hour. To walk, to wait, to board, to ride, to deboard, to walk again. To check my hair after walking in the wind. One hour.

3. I choose art. Yes, I'm afraid of the bills and October rent being due and at this moment, I'm ready to work at least 40 hours a week in whatever capacity. But my life will never be about my nice possessions. It will be about the odd piece of furniture I found in the alley, brought home, scrubbed and sanitized and reinvented to be the greatest conversation piece in my apartment. The creation and the conversation will fulfill me. And, as much as I think I might be happier with a living room set from a catalog, happiness will be in the rose-made-of-palm-leaf, purchased by Ezra from a Savannah sidewalk vendor, that sits on the dash of my car.

Posted: 08/16/2011 06:48 AM

Since the beginning of the month, I've been traveling - sleeping in new beds and new rooms, driving all across the Southeast, meeting new people, and allowing my friends to dictate my itinerary.

The simplest reason for all this - I like to travel.

But in a phone chat with a college friend last night, I realized that this month of vagabonding is also my giant experiment in letting go. Two years ago, had I embarked on this same trip, I would have had a set of directions printed for every destination, plus a list of things to do and rad places to eat, the weather forecast for the week, and the location of the nearest banking institution. And now, I get in the car and go. Sometimes, I know where I'm going and how to get there. Most of the time I don't.

In addition to this grand and difficult experiment in 'going with the flow,' I'm also learning how to live the life I want. I set the goal of running every day in August. And, no matter the location, I've done it - I've run in the moist heat of Savannah and Columbus, in the cool trees of Appalachia, through the coastal homes at Sunset Beach. I have the power to live the active and healthy life I want in any geographic location.

August has turned into a beautiful, eye-opening, and life-transitioning month.

Most Recently:

Call me y'all! :) I'm to Georgia to teach Classical Scene Study at the Springer Theatre Academy, June 4th - July 27th!