BY LUCIA MAURO
Although she might be reluctant to close off any possibilities for avant-garde roles, Kirsten Fitzgerald would probably get a bit antsy in a verbose play like Waiting for Godot. But, even if she were cast in Samuel Beckett's ponderous epic, the kinetic actor would figure out a compelling way to physicalize it.
"I'm not a big fan of actors sitting around a table and talking," states Fitzgerald in a paradoxically serene tone of voice. "I need to be constantly active and occupied on stage."
That doesn't mean she values movement over the text. In fact, Fitzgerald will meticulously dissect a script with the intent of extracting its often elusive essence. Then, with the help of her director and fellow actors, she injects the proper degree of visceral energy into the language to provoke and enlighten on various explosive levels.
Since 1996, she has been an ensemble member of the action-inclined National Pastime Theater, where her portrayal of the robotically nagging Mrs. Zero in The Adding Machine combined ferocious intensity with subtle reflection. She also appeared in Kirkos (for which she served as fight captain) and Yuba City as a pistol-packin' Wild West hooker with a simultaneous "don't mess with me" disposition and warm, comforting aura.
At A Red Orchid Theatre, another fearlessly in-your-face troupe, Fitzgerald supervised the bloody fights and appeared as the opportunistic sister of domestic-abuse victim in The Removalists, a violent Australian diatribe against police brutality. Recently she was seen in a tour de force of greed, hypocrisy and malicious powerbrokering as Mother Peep in Red Orchid's production of The Killer.
But, before all of these looming, unforgettable portrayals, I noticed Fitzgerald's measured sensitivity and burning depth as the Nurse in Yugen Theatre's 1996 contemporary version of Romeo and Juliet. A vibrant spark runs through the actor's entire body. She could be standing still, and one would still be struck by her bold presence. As she confirms, "I am constantly present on stage. I don't think about what my next emotion is going to be."
When she was cast a year later as the Nurse in Steppenwolf Theatre's A Streetcar Named Desire, Fitzgerald meshed sympathy with solid authority to humanize a relatively minor character who does not appear until the last few minutes of the play to escort a distraught Blanche Dubois to a mental institution.
"I had a great time at Steppenwolf," says Fitzgerald, who used to work in the theatre's box office during summer break from the University of Kansas-Lawrence, where she majored in theatre and film. "The cast was very supportive, and everyone was treated with respect. But one of the toughest things for me was waiting until the final scene to go on. I was very anxious to get out on stage. I managed to get really good at Scrabble."
Now Fitzgerald can sink her teeth (or, more accurately, her hands) into the blood-soaked, psycho-physical battlefield of Scotland in her debut as Lady Macbeth with the newly formed Oddlife Theater Company. Its dark, dank and "barbaric" production of Macbeth opens July 13 at Bailiwick. Audiences can count on a queen who will join mental cunning with eviscerating chaos.
"I was amazed at how quickly the play (Macbeth) takes off and its characters dive into murder," she explains. "I'm very interested in exploring Lady Macbeth's relationship with her husband. There must be something that binds them together to force them to commit such heinous murders. I believe her love for him is a major driving force.
"But, while Macbeth is prepared to do anything to succeed, his wife is destroyed by the realization that more than one murder must take place to accomplish their goals. She can't bear that reality."
The aura Fitzgerald projects, both onstage and off, is one of quiet command and unassuming generosity. An obvious team player, she does not set herself above any of her colleagues. One of her oft-repeated descriptions of herself is "I'm a people person," or "I’m people oriented," or "I love having other people on the stage with me."
And, most impressive, she sends off overwhelmingly tranquil vibes while energizing those around her. It's a fascinating combination.
When asked about her most memorable roles, Fitzgerald harkens back to her theatrical experiences as a child. A Chicago native who grew up in Lake Forest, she attended a summer theatre camp called Group Four (now known as Center Stage) in Lake Forest for many years, beginning at the age of 10. But these kids did not merely parrot dialogue that was fed to them. They wrote their own scenes. Later, she assistant directed several productions.
"Group Four promoted individual thought and imagination," notes Fitzgerald, 29. "Our instructors would give us the songs from shows like Oliver or Pinocchio, and we were asked to write our own script around those songs. We had to constantly ask ourselves what the audience needed to come away with from this experience."
Performing on stage was among the many activities she pursued. An accomplished athlete, Fitzgerald excelled at field hockey, volleyball, softball, ice skating, downhill skiing and horseback riding. She is certified by the Society of American Fight Choreographers, and enjoys contact improv. Every Wednesday night, she performs physically-charged improv with "Bang Bang" Spontaneous Theater at No Exit Cafe. And she has quite an extensive dance background.
"It’s very exhilarating for me to fight and approach the form from an organic level," she says. "In Chicago, it's encouraging that so many theatres are willing to work with female fight choreographers and show women battling it out on stage."
Not one to favor gratuitous or overwrought carnage, which can often plow through the richness of a play's language, Fitzgerald insists on mastering the text and dialect first. She focuses on the words and ideas before determining how they can be physically manifested.
"You ultimately have to be fed and driven by the script," she continues. "There are a variety of games actors can do in the rehearsal process to explore movement. I think one of the reasons why some actors may take movement over the top is that they apply these games, which should only be used in rehearsal, to the actual performance. The degree of physicality must be measured against the text and what it aims to achieve."
Fitzgerald credits the University of Kansas-Lawrence with introducing her to the multifaceted benefits of movement. In addition to taking several dances classes (jazz, modern, tap and tango), she studied contact improv, Tai Chi, LaBan Movement, Alexander Technique and therapeutic massage–which all fell under the dance umbrella. Here the versatile actor also worked as a seamstress in the costume shop, adding to her multidisciplinary approach to theatre.
She went on to receive her MFA in acting from the University of Iowa-Iowa City, where she gained pivotal movement training from Michael Sokoloff (who wrote and directed National Pastime's Yuba City). While at the University of Iowa, Fitzgerald taught basic acting, voice improvement and movement mainly to non-theatre majors.
"I believe that movement can help people in ways that go beyond theatre"" she says. "How we move affects voice quality and, if properly taught, can make you feel and sound more confident. Movement is one area where a lot of people feel uncomfortable and insecure. By becoming more conscious of our body language, we can lose certain inhibitions and break down some insecurities."
Understandably, she views the physical, vocal and mental aspects of our person as inextricably linked, not separate entities.
While she aspires to make a living as an actor in Chicago, Fitzgerald works as a social program coordinator for Thresholds, a rehabilitative agency for adults with severe and persistent mental illness. She heads a group therapy program in the expressive arts–namely drama, movement and creative writing.
"During these classes, I continue to find how powerfully movement brings people out of themselves," observes the actor-therapist. "It encourages self-expression and self-exploration, and helps participants get to know themselves really well. Their self-esteem heightens. It's very fulfilling to see people with mental disabilities begin to get comfortable interacting with others." She has discovered similar reactions in children's theatre workshops that she's conducted.
At one point, Fitzgerald considered moving to New York, but decided to stay here for a variety of reasons. As the eldest of seven children, she wanted to be near her family and is particularly attached to the collaborative spirit of Chicago's theatre community.
"I'm going to come back to the people thing again," she adds. "I love the sense of family I've gotten from Chicago theatre. There's also such a broad range of opportunities here. Chicago reminds me of the University of Iowa, where I was surrounded by writers [from the school's world-renowned writing program] and an exhilarating creative environment."
Although she has experience in industrials, Fitzgerald has not worked extensively in film. She hopes to pursue that area, as well as voice-overs, in the near future. But her first love is the stage. She encourages actors to trust their instincts during auditions; be seen as much as possible; and "just be nice."
Fitzgerald delivers that latter piece of advice with an endearing mixture of humility and conviction– not unlike her approach to stagecraft.