Liz Morton has performed in plays at the Intiman Theatre in Seattle, the Actors Theatre of Louisville, and the Westport Country Playhouse (The Member of the Wedding).  In New York she has worked for the Abingdon Theatre Company, the Barrow Group (Girl Talk), and the Gingold Theatrical Group (Project Shaw Reading Series), among others.  Liz has appeared in all three of the Law and Order series and will be seen in an episode of the upcoming Louie on FX.  She has narrated several audio books and is also in the film Forty Shades of Blue. Liz has a B.S. in Theatre from the University of Evansville.

Elizabeth Wilson’s career on and off Broadway has spanned over fifty years and has included the plays Picnic, You Can’t Take It With You, Mornings at Seven, A Delicate Balance and Sticks and Bones (for which she won a Tony Award).  She was inducted into the Theatre Hall of Fame in 2006.  Elizabeth also appeared in several series for television and in dozens of films including the classics 9 to 5, The Graduate, The Addams Family and The Birds.  She is a former student of Harold Clurman, Sanford Meisner, and Martha Graham.

On the shelf beside my bed, there are Tony, Drama Desk and Obie Awards. In my bedroom closet, there is a dress once worn to the Emmy’s. Behind my desk, an original Al Hircshfeld hangs on the wall. Wedged into a collection of his plays, there is a “thank you” card from Edward Albee.  Tucked into a jewelry box is a note written by Colleen Dewhurst that clearly accompanied a bouquet once upon a time. Beside my couch, a young Meryl Streep on stage stares out at me from behind a picture frame.  And high up on my closet shelf, there are boxes of scripts and playbills and publicity photos from a time long ago.

This is all in the Manhattan apartment I’ve called home for over two years.  And, though I am indeed a member of the acting profession, none of these treasures are mine.  They belong to Elizabeth Wilson, an actress who began her extensive and impressive career on stage and screen in the early 1940’s.

During our many years of friendship, Elizabeth and her sister along with me and my sister have formed our own little family unit.  And “Mama Liz” (as I call her) is thrilled to have me sublet her place so that, when she comes into town from her home in Connecticut, she has a well-kept apartment, food in the fridge, companionship, and care-giving.   It works out wonderfully for us both.

But, aside from my seemingly glamorous surroundings, I am one of those actors who is frequently cynical, disappointed, restless, and uninspired.  That is mostly because I am one of those actors who is frequently without acting work! I believe that, had I never met Liz, I very well may have given up on an acting career years ago.   She is respectful of the profession, reverent toward the art, and hopeful about the journey in a way that I don’t often find among my peers.

In this show biz community, it seems our elders often go into hiding.  Well, maybe it’s up to us younger folks to go and find them!  There is a rich legacy from within a large actor/writer/director family that we ought to inherit, that we ought to carry on somehow.  This goes far beyond networking or ambition or anything else.  This is about genuine curiosity and common understanding.

Though my friendship and familial bond with Liz go far beyond our shared vocation, I am especially grateful for her advice, perspective, and stories about this business that she knows so well.

Here are some little nuggets from my Mama Liz:

STARTING OUT

“There was a YWCA at 210 West 77^th Street.  And for $14 a week, we could stay there and have our two meals a day.  It was very protective and very nice.  And I stayed there a lot.

“I didn’t get work right away so I had every possible job because I was determined, determined to stay in New York.  I had a lot of part time jobs because, in the beginning, I had no money.  I was a babysitter, I worked in a department store, and on and on and on.

“It was really hard, particularly when I was just starting out. And there were times, you know, that months and months went by” between jobs.  “And even when I was fairly successful, I didn’t know what the next job was going to be.  There were lots of times when there was no work.  But the last 20-30 years of my career, I worked pretty steadily.

“Advice?  Well.  Get out!  Do more!  Go to classes!  Connect with people!  I think that so much of every career, and particularly in our business, is about who you know” and who knows you.  “Connections, connections!  The more you study with people, the more you get to know people… And don’t be afraid to go into sort of obscure off-off-Broadway productions or little productions in strange parts of the world because, eventually, word gets around.”

AUDITIONING

“I don’t know what it’s like now but I am amazed when I did cold auditions that I even got callbacks.  Auditions are very, very tricky.  I’ve auditioned a lot and lost and lost and lost.

For the audition process, “I would hope that you would have a chance to have the material beforehand.  Read it over and over and over again.  Keep it private and don’t even tell anyone you have an audition if you can help it.” I found it “unbearable for people to inquire afterward about an audition” for a job I didn’t get.  And I felt that “I performed better in the room if it was my own private experience.”

Getting cast “depends on the mood of the people who are auditioning you and how they feel about you and if there’s a chemical reaction, if they feel they want to see you again.” It has to do with “who they find attractive or who kind of gets them at the time or who came in before and they didn’t like or what they’ve seen you in” before.  “If someone gets cast just from an audition, well that’s a miracle!  I don’t know.  It’s so… excuse the expression… fucking complicated.

“You have to try to be sincere and not be too charming.  Just read as sincerely as you can.”  That’s all you can do “because there are no rules.  There are absolutely no rules.  It’s a toss of the coin.

And do “remember that the casting director is a human being!”

THE CRAFT

“I think when I wanted to do a part it was because of the play and what the play said.  It was something I wanted to be part of” more than it was the character.

“Read the script many, many times before rehearsal begins but do not read it aloud. Get it inside you” before you say the words aloud!

Ask yourself “What aspects of the character are not on the page?  Who is the character when she’s alone? Find opposite poles within the character.  Where is the character’s hope?  What are the character’s secrets?  Find that secret key and there is your action.”

Store all these secrets from the text “in your body, mind, soul.  Make it private.  Don’t tell anyone!  These are your secrets.  And the more the better.”

“Acting is being.  Acting is living.”

And “you must always love your audience.”

FIRST TASTE OF HOLLYWOOD

“There was an organization called the Equity Library Theatre in the mid 40’s in New York.  It was great!  We would do plays in the libraries all over Manhattan.  And sometimes people from the movie studios would come and see us.  They called them talent scouts.  And, in those days, the movie companies had contracts for people.  They wanted me to sign a contract for $450 a week (or something like that) which was a lot of money then.  They thought I was a good actress but they didn’t care for my physical look. So the deal was that I would have to have facial surgery.  They said, ‘we want to have a doctor break your jaw and push it back the way it should be and then we’ll also have your nose made smaller and we would like to have the hair raised so that your forehead is a little higher.’  They also wanted me to change my name. I was only 25 years old and was just horrified! I said politely, “I don’t think so.  Thank you very much.” Oh, please!

FROM STAGE TO SCREEN

“I did a lot of live television in the ‘50’s.  Live television was wild.  You would run from camera to camera.  You’d play a little scene and then you’d duck under the  camera and run to the next camera.  They didn’t edit.  It was all going right on the screen! Looking back on it, I don’t know how we did it.

“I’d worked on the stage quite a lot but doing a movie was a much more intimate thing. I’d played in theatres that seated thousands of people and you have to fill that space.  You have to somehow, with your mind, heart, and soul, fill that space.  And I can remember when I did one of my first movies, I think it’s called The Tunnel of Love, that the great Gene Kelly directed.  And he said, and I’ll never forget, ‘Elizabeth, the camera is the balcony.  You don’t have to project.  Have it all inside you.’”

FAME

“I have had a number of friends who became famous.  In 1942, at the Barter Theatre, there was a young actress from Tennessee named Patricia Neal.  She became an incredibly important movie star and she’s still a dear friend.  And Dustin Hoffman and I had done an off-Broadway play together before we did The Graduate.  And Dustin, after The Graduate opened, he became a mega-mega star!  I also worked with George C. Scott many times” throughout his career.

“I think some people, like the three people I just mentioned, relished in fame.  They liked it.  They loved it.  That was their comfort. They could handle it.  And I think there are people in all professions who want notoriety, who want attention.

“I’ve always been terrified of the responsibility of being a star. I didn’t want that.  The idea of that just terrified me. I thought, ‘they’re going to know too much about me.’  And stars… people know everything about their lives!  And about their children and about their past!  That made me nervous.  I just wanted to disappear into another human being.  I wanted to hide.  I wanted to be behind the bushes.  And in a sense that’s what a ‘character actress’ is.  They’re behind the bushes.” They’re playing diverse characters “and so people don’t even necessarily recognize them.

“I just wanted to work. For some reason that was my choice.”

INSPIRATIONS

“The first time I saw the Lunts was in 1940 when my family came to New York for the Worlds Fair.  I saw The Lunts in There Shall Be No Night.  I’ll never forget them.  The Lunts inspired me.

“Of my generation, I think the first real incredible awakening was Geraldine Page doing Summer and Smoke in 1951 down at the old Circle in the Square by Sheridan Square.  I still remember it.  She blew me away!  That was true for Julie Harris too.  I never worked with either one of them…

“There were performances of Maureen Stapleton that were like that too. And I admired, worshipped, Kim Stanley.  There was a spirit, an energy.  You saw them and you walked away and you couldn’t talk.  No way.  They had hit it.”

SUCCESS THEN AND NOW

“It’s very different now.  The whole world has changed.  Now it’s all about money. And the productions are so different. We used to listen to the radio for heaven’s sake! And there were some wonderfully serious programs on television.  And the films too were just terrific.  (We can still get them on PBS…) Now there are so few films that I am at all interested in.  And I can’t identify with most of the stuff that’s on television.  Reality shows and that crazy music.  That’s true of my generation, I think.  We can’t listen or watch that kind of thing.

“What’s important now for a lot of people is just their looks.  And the other thing is youth.  Youth! Youth!  When I was growing up, there were actors of all ages: 60, 70, 80 years old.  Somehow our culture doesn’t want to see older people any more.  I don’t know.  There are very few older actors still working, still wanted.”

KEEPING AT IT

“I think every actor… they all have different reasons for becoming an actor.  I was obsessed.  Obsessed!  I had no choice.

“You just have to know you want it and find a way to keep doing it.

“But if you don’t want to act anymore and you really feel that, don’t torture yourself! Maybe you should move on to something else.  Look how many actors become directors or go into the producing field.

“We’re all such individuals! I would just say listen to your own heart, listen to your own desires, decide what makes you the happiest, what fulfills you.  Do what enriches your life.  And if it’s being an actor than that’s that. I think you have to just know that there are no rules.  It works differently for everybody.  Some people hit it when they’re young.  Some people hit it when they’re older. If it really turns you on, you’ll just keep at it.  And you may have a couple of years off, you may do other things, but try to find a certain kind of satisfaction.”

Just like the treasures in the Manhattan apartment I call home, Liz’s stories and experiences are all her very own, from her year in the South Pacific performing for the U.S.O. in WWII to her first encounter with Mike Nichols, a director she’d go on to work with eight times, from her threatening to quit a Broadway play to her personal joys and tragedies that I couldn’t possibly mention here.  By listening to Liz and to her stories, I have been enriched and inspired as an actress and as a person.  Knowing her, though, is the real gift.

And what does an elder in this business say about being “found,”  seen, heard, appreciated, loved?  “I feel as if it’s a reward of some kind that someone’s chosen to give me.  Knowing you has kind of started me up again!  I feel I’m still part of it.  I’m still part of the life even though I’m not really working anymore.  It’s just thrilling because it makes me feel hopeful.  The connection between the generations… It’s so important for me.”

Elizabeth Wilson and I were born more than a half century apart.  We share a name and we call the same apartment in New York “home.” We are close friends and we are chosen family.  And, although my opportunities thus far haven’t come near to hers when she was my age, and even though I greatly struggle being in this business of ours, I know that having this dear woman in my life has kept me anchored to my profession.  Regardless of my resume or my career thus far, I follow after my Mama Liz and proudly say, “I am an actress.”

Photo: Liz & Elizabeth heading out to the theater in New York.