We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Kelly Jean Clair a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Kelly Jean, thanks for joining us today. It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.

I guess you could say I was born in “risk.” As the 5th of 5 children, my mom was considered too “old” to have a baby back in the day. To think about it now, she was just shy of 40 when she had me, but her pregnancy was not without “risk.” There were complications almost from the beginning and my mom was ordered to bed rest for the duration – all the while being told by doctors that “this baby will probably never be born.” Well, the doctors had no clue who they were dealing with when it came to my mother and she basically told the doctors to “go to hell” – that yes, indeed this baby would be born – and now many, many years later – here I am still alive and kickin’. People have told me all of my life what a “risk” I was taking, dedicating my life to an art form that may never yield a viable living [insert here how the nut truly does not fall far from the tree.] Fast forward to a more recent definition of “risk.” I have had the good fortune to study off and on with the amazing Larry Moss and once in the middle of a scene, he stopped my scene partner and I (not uncommon at all for Larry, if you were able to get out your first line in the scene without him stopping you, you were considered lucky) and he said to me “New York or London – pick one. This town will never “get” you.” (I was living in LA at the time and although I was working a day-job to make ends meet, I had been enjoying a modicum of success in TV as well as working consistently in my first-love – Theatre.) New York or London reverberated in my brain. About a month later, with the echoes of that comment still ringing in my ears, I had just completed a successful run as “Mazeppa” in West Coast Ensemble’s production of Gypsy directed by Richard Israel and I headed out on a planned vacation to Ireland as a birthday present to myself. Overlooking the Cliffs of Moher, I hooked up with a fun party of Aussie’s and we hiked “off trail” where suddenly I found myself literally within a step of death – and if you have ever been close to the edge of a cliff, you know that it’s a very, very long and needless to say, unpleasant, way down. Larry’s words came roaring back at me and it was in that moment when I decided “I’m moving to New York.” If I can teeter at the tippy, tippy edge of the Cliffs of Moher, I thought, I can do anything. The best advice I was given when I got home was by Andrea Quinn (author of The Quinn Essentials: 9 Transformational Tools to Accomplish Anything and life-coach extraordinaire) she told me to tell EVERYONE, no matter who, that I was “moving to New York.” Lo and behold I was out with a group of actors after a workshop one night and over martinis one of my actor-buddies asked me if I was serious and I said “yes!” and he said “well, my partner just got accepted to the DGA program here in LA and is looking to sublet his apartment in Manhattan.” Cut to: over a dozen years later and I’m still in said Manhattan apartment (no longer a sublet thankfully since my buddy’s partner decided to stay in LA.) Cross-fade now to 2017 and a 2nd more recent “risk” – and that was when I decided to go back to school. I had graduated from The American Academy of Dramatic Arts but I had never received a BA and that was a point of shame for me. I had been told all my life “you are so smart” and as I got older and people would ask me where I went to college, I would tell them that I went to an acting conservatory and they would be shocked saying “but you’re so smart” (like a degree has anything to do with that, I mean just ask Steven Spielberg, or Christopher Nolan, or Oprah…) But part of what was feeding my thirst for knowledge was the political environment we found ourselves in in 2017 (and unfortunately STILL finding ourselves in in 2024.) Luckily, I am surrounded by an extremely supportive group of friends and family, so despite the few naysayers about “age” or “how will it further your career?” or “how are you going to go to school and continue a full-time day-job?” Well, I am proud to say that not only did I graduate from Fordham University (during a global pandemic) but I graduated summa cum laude AND gave the student speech at graduation. Was that a “risk?” I think we may need to redefine the word “risk”. Yes, it’s a “risk” to climb Mount Everest without the proper training, and gear, and preparation, but if you have a dream to climb Everest – do you consider it a “risk?” Is it a “risk” to follow a dream? It should probably be considered a “risk” not to.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

As I’ve mentioned, I’m the youngest of 5 children and I credit who I am to the fact that my parents were very “woke” parents meaning that we were taught to think for ourselves, speak up for ourselves, if you see injustice – don’t be silent, have compassion for every living thing, nobody is better than you and you aren’t better than anybody, read, seek knowledge, question, understand the world in which you live, honesty IS the best policy, VOTE, and be a good traveler – in other words, “when in Rome…” (And I’m still really good at reading maps to this day.) My siblings and I used to joke that we could be dropped in the middle of the Sahara Desert and survive and be able to find our way out. My dad was a full-bird Colonel in the Army, so yes, we moved around, A LOT. There were times when we’d come home from school and our mom would say “Okay, pack up, your dad’s got his orders and we need to be out at the end of the week.” My dad began his career in the military by landing on Utah Beach on June 6, 1944, then on to the war in Korea, and then to Vietnam and even after he retired from active duty, he remained in Government service until I was in my 20’s (so I understood Civics even before taking the class in high school.) And my mom – she was my biggest fan and staunchest supporter. She taught me communication skills and most importantly, perseverance, and resilience (“The show must go on!”) My mom was the mom that growing up, my friends would come over to talk to – EVEN IF I WASN’T HOME! My parents used to say that I was born performing, and at first this was alien to them – a very demonstrative and inquisitive child (also bossyAs I’ve mentioned, I’m the youngest of 5 children and I credit who I am to the fact that my parents were very “woke” parents meaning that we were taught to think for ourselves, speak up for ourselves, if you see injustice – don’t be silent, have compassion for every living thing, nobody is better than you and you aren’t better than anybody, read, seek knowledge, question, understand the world in which you live, honesty IS the best policy, VOTE, and be a good traveler – in other words, “when in Rome…” (And I’m still really good at reading maps to this day.) My siblings and I used to joke that we could be dropped in the middle of the Sahara Desert and survive and be able to find our way out. My dad was a full-bird Colonel in the Army, so yes, we moved around, A LOT. There were times when we’d come home from school and our mom would say “Okay, pack up, your dad’s got his orders and we need to be out at the end of the week.” My dad began his career in the military by landing on Utah Beach on June 6, 1944, then on to the war in Korea, and then to Vietnam and even after he retired from active duty, he remained in Government service until I was in my 20’s (so I understood Civics even before taking the class in high school.) And my mom – she was my biggest fan and staunchest supporter. She taught me communication skills and most importantly, perseverance, and resilience (“The show must go on!”) My mom was the mom that growing up, my friends would come over to talk to – EVEN IF I WASN’T HOME! My parents used to say that I was born performing, and at first this was alien to them – a very demonstrative and inquisitive child (also bossy – but I had to be – I had to hold my own against 4 others who were all much older and louder than me.) I would put on plays in our living room (that I’d rehearsed and rehearsed in my bedroom) I’d cast and direct my friends. and make all our families and neighbors, and friends of neighbors, their dogs, anybody I could gather to come and watch us. Sometimes I would just break out into song before dinner like “Don’t Rain on My Parade” using my hairbrush as my microphone, and I learned all the choreography to the Jackson 5’s “Dancin’ Machine” – “She’s so precocious” my grandmother would say. Thankfully my mom did some research and one day she said “You’re starting acting class this weekend.” I was thrilled beyond belief – and so it began…I wish I could put into words the freedom I felt onstage, being in the moment. I was 12 years old when I performed in my first full-length “legit” play and by that time I had already been “bitten by the bug” as my mom would say. I would go on to be the “star” of my high school theatre department while also doing plays on the “outside”. And while I was still too young to drive myself from Fairfax, VA to rehearsal in Washington, D.C., my mom found it easier to work backstage. As my parts grew, so did hers, eventually moving up to Stage Manager and I’ve gotta tell you – she still ranks as one of the toughest Stage Managers I’ve ever encountered. One night during a performance (I was playing “Sandy” in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie) the actor playing Gordon Lowther was concerned that people would notice his dull shoes and my mom said “Honey, if the audience is watching your shoes, you’ve got bigger problems…” but the next night, when he walked into his dressing room, his shoes had been shined to perfection. I was also very lucky to have an excellent high school drama teacher who pushed me beyond what were my capabilities at the time – and those were the days when not only did you have rehearsal for the show after school but after rehearsal you would stay to build the set – stretch muslin to make flats, run hair dryers to dry the floor you’d just painted, hang doors, learn to run lights and sound from a dimmer board. I ate, drank, and lived theatre and loved every single second of it! And that love continues to this very day because for me it’s about the craft – “how can this moment work better?”, “what do I really want here?”, “why is it that I come back through the door when I just told him I’m leaving forever?” “What was the playwright’s intention with this line and how do I best convey that?” I have been so lucky to have had the opportunity to study with so many wonderful teachers and have worked with amazing directors and I am very proud of the fact that I had the good fortune to first study at The American Academy of Dramatic Arts and then decades later to have the opportunity to study at The National Theatre Studio in London (and trust me, if I could have found a way to live legally in the UK, as everyone in my life knows, I would still be there to this day.) Auditions for acceptance at the Studio were held around the world so the competition was fierce and not only are you working with top-tier, talented acting teachers and directors, but you gotta work alongside actors from other continents – it’s amazing to hear a monologue from Hamlet being performed in Croatian or Swahili. The curriculum was also quite demanding – we would start classes at 9AM (which began with yoga) and finish classes around 6PM, then have about an hour or so at the Pub before we had to get back to see whichever show we were scheduled to see that night. But there is something about London and the Theatre – being an actor is not looked down upon there as it can be here in the US. One night at the Pub before our scheduled show, a few of us were sitting at a table chatting with locals (note to travelers, when talking with locals at a Pub in London – brush up on your British politics and “football”!) Between pints, one of the gentlemen looked over at me and asked, “so, what do you do?” – which in London, is not the first question you’re asked like it is here in the States. And knowing sometimes the response I have gotten here when answering that question, I decided I was going to throw caution to the wind and be truthful. I took a sip of my Chardonnay (yes, wine, I’m not a beer drinker darling) and took a deep breath, looked him directly in the eye and said “I am an actor.” He smiled and said in all honesty “Ahh, what a noble profession.” Thinking about that lovely man’s response still brings tears to my eyes. (For those who would like more of an understanding of why many of us who are actors ARE actors – I invite you to go to YouTube and watch Patsy Rosenburg’s “Why I do theatre” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9jjhGq8pMM) I’ve had the pleasure of studying with Patsy in London as well as here in the States and was there when she told this story. Another wonderful director, teacher, actor, and dear friend that I’ve had the pleasure of working with, Karen Austin, said that “actors are like first responders, we run turn toward the burning flames of the soul.” And that’s why I’m an actor…

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

Ah – this is a good question! I think one of the biggest lessons I’ve had to unlearn (and that I’m STILL unlearning) is to not allow others’ opinions of me to become my own opinions of me. As I’ve mentioned, I graduated from The American Academy of Dramatic Arts and when I was there (I can’t speak for them now, but I also can’t imagine that one of their core philosophies has changed all that much) but back when I was there it was all about “tearing you down to build you up.” There is part of that philosophy that I agree with – I wouldn’t term it that way nor use the tactics they used, but there is absolute value in developing “technique”; working on one’s instrument – voice and speech, body, movement, building stamina, working with dialects, performing heightened text, how to analyze a script, and just “breathing” – it is a CRAFT after all and you never stop learning. However, what I do NOT agree with, is tearing you down physically and emotionally with their reasoning being that “we’re toughening your skin because this profession you have chosen is all about rejection and we want to prepare you.” Well, there is “preparing you” by developing your skills, but then there is dismantling your confidence and self-esteem and unfortunately this is what I allowed to happen to me. On our very first day, we were told that we were the “select” few chosen for this rigorous program – not everyone who auditions is – and less than half of us would still be left standing come 2nd year (the program was a 2-year training program and you had to be asked back for the 2nd year and we were constantly warned that 2nd year was much tougher than the first.) We were also told numerous horror stories by our instructors about the “business” (even stories involving our other instructors) that are the stuff of legend. One such story is as follows: one of the Master Teachers – Francine Parker – she herself was the stuff of legend – as part of the original Group Theatre – once told an actress who had just finished working on a scene to look out the window at the mountains in the distance, and the actress promptly obeyed, and then Francine said to her “I have a better chance of moving one of those mountains – then in teaching you how to act.” I never knew who this actress was but I often wonder what became of her. We were all terrified of Francine and “if” you were “selected” to be in her class 2nd year, well, to borrow the immortal line spoken by Bette Davis in All About Eve, you’d better “fasten your seatbelts.” And of course, my first semester back in 2nd year, I was “selected” to be in Francine’s class. I actually adored Francine and credit her for helping me to develop very strong technique, yet how she went about it was very unconventional. I was working on a scene from the play The Killing of Sister George by Frank Marcus in the role of “Childie ” and according to my fellow classmates (who actually kept count) Francine made me enter the scene 17 times before uttering my first line. Open the door, walk in and hear “NO!” Take 2, open the door, walk in and hear “AGAIN!” Take 3, open the door, walk in and hear a scream “ARRRGH! Kelly! What-are-you-doing?!” (in her very Brooklynese dialect) and on it went for another 14 entrances. On the 18th try she finally said “you’ve got it.” What did that teach me you may ask? I didn’t understand it then, but how could Francine convey to me, a 19-year-old, (basically a child myself) an emotion she was trying to get me to feel without the life experience behind it. The scene was about the first time that Childie was going to speak up for herself to June aka “Sister George ” who is also her lover. There is anger, frustration, fear, a myriad of emotions coursing through Childie in the scene – so what did Francine make me feel by forcing me to come through the door 17 times? Anger, frustration, fear – and when I finally allowed myself to actually feel what I was truly feeling in the moment, I “got it.” Of course, it wasn’t until YEARS later that I actually did “get it.” Conversely though, when you are told by those to whom you place in a hierarchy of authority, those whom you admire and allow access to all of your vulnerabilities – you give them power over you. Another such story was one of my favorite dance teachers pulled me aside after class one day and said “you have to decide whether you are going to be a dancer or an actor.” (I should preface this with the fact that as a reminder from my story at the beginning, that demonstrative child did want to be a dancer, I would pretend I was Chita Rivera (RIP) dancing on a rooftop with Shirley MacLaine singing “Going Get Up, Gonna Get Out” from Sweet Charity and it was my mom’s intuitiveness that put me in acting class and not dance class) but back to the pointed question from my dance teacher – I was shaken. I didn’t understand what prompted her to ask me this all of a sudden. “Well?” And in fear of having to answer her, I said “Actor.” And that was it, I was dead to her from that day on – if she said two more words to me the rest of the semester, that would have been a miracle. I was crushed. I idolized her. At the start of class, she was so supportive and encouraging and had taught me a lot – and then – BAM! Apparently, I had picked Door #1 and Door #1 was the “dud”. And as a teenager on the cusp of adulthood but whose brain is not even fully formed yet – and you are told things on a daily basis such as you “need to lose weight” (I was 5’5 and 110 pounds soaking wet at the time) or “your eyes are too big” or “your eyes aren’t big enough” “you’re too strong onstage”, and the quintessential ‘mother of all remarks,’ “you’re just not pretty enough.” And in a way the Academy was right about “thickening our skin” because once I graduated and started auditioning in the “real world” I was told many more horrific comments. My “favorite” is one said to me by a very well-known casting director (whom shall remain nameless) and after I finished my audition, he picked up my headshot from the table and said, very matter-of-factly, “you know, you are going to have trouble working because you have a Meryl Streep nose.” You’d think I’d be able to laugh about it now, and in some ways I can – I mean, it’s a ridiculous comment on its face, but to say that to such a young actress?! When you’re 22 years old, it wounds you and makes you feel less than. My onus in this is that I allowed it. I allowed those judgments, and comments, and critiques to become my limiting beliefs. I’d love to know how others don’t. Such an oxymoron, right? Considering how I was raised. I certainly don’t have the answers and like I said, I’m still trying to unlearn those lessons. But what I have learned is that as creatives, we’re “feelers”, we’re sensitive souls. Not everybody is going to like your Hamlet but does that mean that you stop being Hamlet?

Are there any books, videos, essays or other resources that have significantly impacted your management and entrepreneurial thinking and philosophy?

Yes! I have a list that I will include below and of course I say that no matter where you are in your acting career, READ everything you can get your hands on – from Shakespeare to Nottage and everything in between, before, and after. (Make friends with your local librarian and independent bookstore!) And don’t forget about screenplays. There’s a wonderful resource called Simply Scripts https://www.simplyscripts.com where you can download scripts from films and TV for free. And also watch everything! Go to the theatre even if it’s in the basement of a deli! As a union member, we have the awesome benefit of being able to screen films and TV shows in order to vote in the SAG awards every year. And for those of us in NY, artists (whether you are a member of Actors Equity or not) can join TDF https://www.tdf.org and see Broadways shows at deeply discounted prices. Which also brings me to another point: read about the industry – read the Trades, subscribe to Deadline.com – basically everything is online and you can read free versions of The Hollywood Reporter, Variety etc., and subscribe to your local newspaper – read about the world. It’s important. I’m also big on reading biographies and memoirs – it’s crucial to know what came before and how others have overcome obstacles to strive and persevere. Don’t just settle in to watch the newest Netflix release (although that’s good too), but check out Casablanca, Sullivan’s Travels, and The Philadelphia Story while you’re at it. There’s a reason these films endure – find out why. Also read great literature! Don’t leave out Dickens, and Wharton, Baldwin, the Bronte’s, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Marquez, as well as the great poets from Keats, Byron, Wordsworth, Shelley (both Percy and Mary) to Amanda Gorman. As you’ve no doubt guessed by now, I’m a fairly voracious reader – always have been and I believe it’s served me well and probably why I graduated summa cum laude in English.

Okay onto the list and I promise not to make it too exhaustive (in full transparency – some titles listed below were text books either from AADA, NT Studio or Fordham U):

• I’ve already mentioned earlier the book by Andrea Quinn called The Quinn Essentials: 9 Transformational Tools to Accomplish Anything

• Playing Shakespeare by John Barton (and if you can get your hands on the DVDs – even better – watch Dame Judi as “Viola”! Perfection!

• Acting in Film by Michael Caine

• Presence by Patsy Rodenburg (really any Patsy book)

• The Intent to Live by Larry Moss

• Actions: An Actors Thesaurus by Caldaron & Lloyd Williams

• Who’s Who and What’s What in Shakespeare by Evangeline M. O’Connor

• A Pronouncing Dictionary of American English

• The Monologue Audition and How to Choose a Monologue for Any Audition by Karen Kohlhaas

• The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron

• Creative Visualization by Shakti Gawain

• An Actor Prepares by Constantin Stanislavski

• Brewster’s Theatre History

• Respect for Acting by Uta Hagen

• 6 Lessons by Boleslavsky

• On Directing by Harold Clurman

• On Acting by Sanford Meisner

• Audition for Your Career, Not the Job by Tim Phillips

• Art & Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland

• Voice and the Actor by Cecily Berry

• Well-tuned Women: Growing Strong Through Voice Work by Frankie Armstrong & Jenny Pearson

• Freeing the Natural Voice by Kristin Linklater

• The Art of Dramatic Writing by Lajos Egri

Of course a book is not going to teach you how to act, “acting is doing, and being, and re-acting” I remember my first Shakespeare class in London – and us few Americans – we were so excited to really “dive deep” into the analysis of the plays we were going to work on and in the place (literally) where they all began! And our teacher walked in and said, “On your feet! Shakespeare is blood and the heartbeat” (and he pounded his chest in iambic pentameter) “you can’t get that sitting down and writing in your notebook!” And yes, I had a massive crush on him from that day forward. For me the most important lesson is that in order to cultivate a craft where you get to step into a different life, or play in a different place and time, thinking different thoughts and experiencing a world that may be so far removed, you first have to understand your own…

Contact Info:

• Instagram: kellyjeanclair
• Linkedin: Kelly Jean Clair
• Twitter: @kellyjeanclair
• Other: I haven’t kept up with my WordPress blog – but I’d like to start it up again – here’s the link: https://kellyjeanclair.wordpress.com/2012/03/25/actcraft-act-i-sc-1-early-lessons/ I’m also on TikTok at @kellyjeanclair

Image Credits
The first shot of me with a martini was taken by my friend Jennifer Asquino The headshot under my given name of Kelly Jean Johnson was by Franz Photography Fordham U graduation photo taken by Ferrell Marshall Me Miss Bossy Pants photo was taken by my mom The cover photo of TheatreWorks 35th Anniversary was taken by Michael McClinton The photograph of me in the role of “Alice” in You Can’t Take it With You – Village Theatre, Seattle, WA (photographer unknown) and actors in the photo with me are Keith Nicholai who played Paul Sycamore and Jack Frazier who played Grandpa The photo of me as “Gwendoln” in The Importance of Being Earnest at Spokane Interplayers Ensemble was taken by the Spokesman-Review and the actors in the photo with me are Erin Merritt as Cecily, Richard R. Hamblin as Algernon, and R. Marquam Krantz as Jack aka “Earnest” The headshot of me for West Coast Ensemble’s Marketing postcard for the play Music From a Sparkling Planet under my former married name Kelly Lloyd – was taken by Dana Patrick The photo of me in the green jacket was taken by JennKL Photography