Ian Forester is an actor and award-winning theater director, having won the 2008 LA Weekly Award for Best Comedic Direction for his production of John Clancy’s Fatboy. Recently Ian starred in the independent feature In Memoriam. Chicago theater highlights include: Cadillac, Chicago Dramatists (dir. Ed Sobel); The Intelligent Design of Jenny Chow, Collaboraction; Men of Steel, Theater Wit; The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, Steep Theater; and Guinea Pig Solo, Collaboraction. In Chicago, Ian directed for both Stage Left and Collaboraction, where he was formerly an Associate Artistic Director. He is a co-founder and Associate Artistic Director of needtheater in Los Angeles, where he works constantly to bring new work to the stage. On March 2 Ian opens The Event and The Interview, two one person shows that defy typical expectations. In addition to directing, Ian teaches acting privately and at AMDA in Hollywood. Visit his website for more information on private coaching and classes currently forming. He is a graduate of Northwestern University and The School at Steppenwolf.

I was in a waiting room the other day and noticed a woman, seemingly mid- thirties, speaking with a man who looked about fifty.  In her hand was a book, titled, in big letters, “Having the RIGHT AGENT can mean the DIFFERENCE between SUCCESS and FAILURE as an actor.” I overheard the woman nervously ask the man how she should contact agencies.  She wondered what to tell them, if she should come in “in character,” and most importantly, what she should wear.  The man, surprised and flattered to be considered an authority, stammered to give her satisfaction.  Finally, after her fifth or sixth expectant question, he managed to comfort her with a very gentle “just be yourself.”

After I left the audition the title of the woman’s book stuck in my head, and I thought about what success and failure have meant for me, and how I’ve experienced them both- from winning awards to missing rent payments- sometimes in the same day.  That this book claimed to use these ciphers as some sort of yardstick seemed ridiculous.  Even more ridiculous was that this book claimed that the answer for the actor was something over which the actor had little control.  I wanted to go back to the room, rip her book in half, point at her heart and tell her that the only success or failure she will ever find is in there.  That her book was sucking her dry of her individuality and personal agency, keeping her a slave to forces she could never control, and would destroy her ability to be anything more than a meat puppet parroting back whatever she’s told.

As this seemed a bit intense for a commercial waiting room, I kept walking to my car.

Defining success is not easy, and we all want answers.  I still search fervently for answers to many things, often, like the woman, at the expense of what it is I hope to find.

Fortunately, my definition of success is not one of them.

I’ve found that creating my own definition of success based on a personal mission statement has been the key for checking my ego when times are good and lifting my spirits when times are bad, keeping me on a steady course no matter what chaos is happening around me.  By using my work as an actor to serve a mission larger than myself I’m able to make stronger artistic choices, lose myself in the moment, and keep my ego out of the scene.

Because it’s not about me anymore, I am free to do better work, becoming more attractive to the agents, directors, and casting directors whose decisions I rely on to continue my career.  And because I know why I do this work, material success can come and go freely without knocking me sideways.

I began in Chicago, where hundreds of small non-profit theater companies produce constantly in every storefront, community center, and church in the city.  A big source of pride for me is that I was able to be a part of the incredible community of artists that work in every nook and cranny of the city.  In this community being a successful actor isn’t about how much money you make, it’s about whether or not you’re doing interesting work that is valued by your peers.

These non-profit companies operate around a mission statement.  A good mission statement is driven by action, and defines what success looks like for each organization.  If a non-profit’s mission is to provide coats for homeless people, then as long as the non-profit provides the coats they are a success, no matter what their bottom line.  And many non-profits actually do make money, which is then distributed back into the organization to help further their mission.

I could write an entire essay on why I believe the non-profit corporate structure is the only way to save the soul of American capitalism.  A traditional corporation is run by a board, which represents the interests of its investors.  These investors have one mission: profit.  If anything (including common sense) interferes with the ability of the corporation to make a profit it is thrown out of the 32^nd floor boardroom window.  Their definition of success is singular, even if a company lowers a people’s quality of life or destroys the environment, as long as it posts profit it is “succeeding.”

This profit-driven model more closely resembles the accepted definition of success I’ve seen here in Los Angeles.  It doesn’t seem to matter what the actual substance of the work is, as long as an actor is paid, the job is a winning situation.  And there’s nothing wrong with that- I left Chicago to come here because LA seems to be the only city where actors can make much more than a decent living.  But in my first year here I found that without something concrete to stick to it was easy to get lost in this city, chasing opportunities not because I wanted them but simply because they felt attainable.

I needed something to help guide my actions that would let me continue to be diverse in my work opportunities but singular in my focus.

I remembered my time in Chicago, where I worked closely with several non-profit theater companies as they developed new mission statements. It occurred to me that a mission statement was a very powerful tool to adapt now that I was an actor in a city with hundreds of people who look exactly like me.

In creating a mission statement a non-profit not only sets out what its version of success looks like, it is able to clearly and specifically express what it is they do to both their employees and their benefactors.

A strong mission statement gives these organizations backbone.  And perhaps more importantly, it carves out a place for them in the cultural marketplace, identifying their brand to potential customers and setting them apart in a sea of competitors.

I took the lessons I had learned during many hours of meetings and applied them to crafting personal mission statements for artists.

The two most important aspects to any mission statement are:

1. The mission must be phrased as an action.  “My mission is to do something.”  It is not a list of ideals nor a list of desired achievements.
2. The mission must be something you already do naturally, so that you can wear it comfortably every day.  If you pick a mission statement that is foreign to you, you’ll simply have to work that much harder to fulfill it.  Your mission should provide clarity and ease, not another chore for your to-do list.

This is the exercise that I did:

1)    I wrote down a list of every part I had ever played, and next to it listed each character’s central action.  It was very important that I wrote actively, keeping the character alive and in motion.

2)    I looked at this list of actions, and picked the two most significant characters and the two most opposite characters.  For me the two most significant were Warren from This Is Our Youth (central action- to find someone who cares about him) and Jonathan from In Memoriam (central action- to find out how to make a genuine human connection).  The two most opposite were Gary from Cadillac (central action- to protect what is rightfully his) and Todd from The Intelligent Design of Jenny Chow (central action- to learn how to fit into the world).

I paired the actions accordingly to make two lists:

– to find someone who cares about me.

– to find out how to make a genuine human connection.

And,

– to protect what is rightfully mine.

– to learn how to fit into the world.

1)    For each pair, I came up with a sentence that described them both through a statement of what I wanted.

For the first pair I came up with a few before I settled on something- I want love, I want to feel cared for, I want a fresh start, and I want to not be alone.

I did the same with the second pair- I want a secure place in the world, I want to know where I stand, I want boundaries, I want to get what I deserve.

2)    For the last step, I took one “want” each from the lists, and found a new central action that encapsulated those wants.  So say I picked “I want to feel cared for” and “I want to know where I stand.”  My personal mission might read something like, “Ian Forester’s mission is to nurture personal connection in order to achieve a respectable and recognizable place in the world around him.”

Why didn’t I write, “Ian Forester’s mission is to find someone who cares for him and will let him know where he stands”?

While this statement bears a lot of truth (and would be helpful in a scene or audition), it’s the same as that awful book title, only in this case, the RIGHT AGENT who will make all my dreams come true is replaced by the elusive “someone.”

It’s very important in this last step that your mission statement stays strong, active, and is not dependent on anyone but yourself for success.  I can’t control whether “someone” will care for me and let me know where I stand.  I can, however, actively nurture personal connection among others and between others and myself, and through this allow myself to achieve standing in a community.

If you rely on someone else for success you give up your own agency and become co-dependent.  And while co-dependency can lead to incredible performances on stage, it is usually unnervingly heartbreaking and destructive in the wider world.

Maybe you don’t have enough credits to do this with the roles you’ve played, or you haven’t yet felt any personal connection to the parts you’ve been able to land.  If that’s the case, rather than making a list of characters and their central actions make a list of everything you do in a given day- from holding a door for someone to screaming at a stranger to move faster through a crosswalk to buying groceries to insulting your lover- and use this as your action list.  It’s important to incorporate everything you are as a person, even the parts you’re not proud of, because that’s where your individual power lies as an actor.

And if you try it one day and what you end up with doesn’t feel like a fit, try it tomorrow.  Try it with a list of everything anyone has ever said about you.  Hell, try it with a list of what’s in your purse or glove compartment.  What’s important is that you start from something truthful and personal that encompasses as much of your experience as possible.  Eventually you’ll find a fit.

Once I had a mission statement that felt right, I started using it as a dowsing rod when looking through the breakdowns.  I read the character descriptions to see which characters lined up with my mission.  Small businesses do this all the time when evaluating opportunities.  Certain choices are within the bounds and scope of the business, certain others are not.  Now that I had a brand that was more specific than the category of “late 20’s, Caucasian, male,” I could more easily pick and choose projects that would line up with what I already had to offer, rather than trying to change my product to fit each new opportunity.

Another advantage of building my brand around a personal mission statement as opposed to a category is that I can carry that mission through every decade of my life, thereby building a consistent and sustainable brand that is as recognizable in my late twenties as it is in my early fifties.  And because I’m building this brand from a strong sense of personal mission I’m making choices about my career that I’ll be able to live with the rest of my life, no matter what the outcome.

And living with your choices is what real success looks like.