Every single word in this Esquire article exquisitely deconstructed Philip Seymour Hoffman and the characters he played but also brought up an important point regarding the performing arts. It also inspired me to write this post.
I never knew PSH but I was a silent fan of his work. Most people know his acting work in the movies but he was also a thespian of the stage and a visionary director. More importantly,in my opinion, he was very supportive of new playwrights and actors as the Creative Director of the LAByrinth theatre in NYC, and as everyone in this business knows, opportunities in the form of him are rare gems to relish forever.
As far as acting goes, If you really want to learn your craft, you have to train on the stage. Theatre allows you to get to know yourself and the people you work with on such a personal level and in such a limited amount of time and space that you are never the same after a production is over, sometimes this may be a positive or a negative experience. This is just the rehearsal part.
When it comes to stepping on the stage, letting yourself go is an experience both nerve-wracking yet exhilarating. When you're doing it every day, your vulnerability becomes palpable, your heart opens up to new experiences and sensitivity takes over your life, sometimes to the point it becomes unbearable to handle ourselves or the world.
Every performance brings a new level of depth, sensitivity and attachment to the characters you're playing and I think that Philip Seymour Hoffman embodied it in his stage and camera roles, and consequently in his own life. To be rawly honest, I know I liked him because somewhere deep within myself, his meditative sadness, his tranquil personality and the intellectualism he brought to his acting reflected my own solitude and existential quest.
I believe every connection we make with another human being is a response to a thirst within us which in turn, is quenched until we know we've had enough. Or maybe it is the wine I've had over the past three days that's still lingering in my system, or the snow outside my window, or simply just admiration for the work of a graceful artist. Otherwise, where did this sudden melancholy come from?
Either way, I am truly sad I was never able to see him live on the stage. (Especially in the revival of Death of a Salesman in 2012.)
Rest in Peace.
