We recently connected with Phyllis Katz and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Phyllis , thanks for joining us today. Are you happier as a creative? Do you sometimes think about what it would be like to just have a regular job? Can you talk to us about how you think through these emotions?
I know what it’s like to have a regular job. I’ve had many. That’s how most of us pay our bills while we’re creating, before and in between the times we’re paid to do what we love.
Original self-expression was validated in my family. That isn’t to say that I’m always on my game. Sometimes the trajectory is pure ecstasy and sometimes it’s torture. For one thing, living as an artist you’re always being evaluated, often by yourself. And you can go for long stretches without a paying job doing what you love..
And then there are the rejections — some easy, some crushing. This is a part of the path that people in most non-creative jobs seldom deal with. It can be a roller coaster, but if I’m not creating, I’m not happy. I remind students all the time: You have to do what you’re wired for. You may or may not make a living at it, but you can’t abandon it, or you’ll live with an unfillable emptiness. Find a way to pay your rent while you’re figuring it out, or in a work slump, and keep honoring the spirit that moves you.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
Whenever anyone asks me to tell them “a little bit about” myself and my work, I panic, because I’m uncomfortable itemizing what I do and what I’ve done (or haven’t done). The real “little bit” about me is that I’ve spent an adulthood learning to be more alive, more present in the moment — in my work, in my relationships — and more open to opportunity.
In my work I’m a hybrid — an actor, writer, improviser, director, songwriter, and teacher — and I coach other actors, improvisers and writers. I grew up in a household that celebrated humor, creativity, and wordplay. Don’t get the wrong idea: We were as dysfunctional as the next family. But it’s probably why I’m attracted to so many areas of creative self-expression.
I grew up in Chicago. Fresh out of school, I wrote for trade magazines and later found my way to The Second City workshops, where I met the friends with whom I would work and move to Los Angeles a few years later.
Shortly after relocating, I joined the newly formed Groundlings company, which was performing in East Hollywood, at a venue so small that often there were more people onstage than in the audience. I became one of the founders of the Groundlings Theatre on Melrose Avenue (and a co-creator of the Groundings School), where I teach, direct, write, and perform. I’m also a board member.
That doesn’t mean I never left the building. I’ve acted and written for film, stage, and TV, and have written, directed and performed in a variety of indie stage productions, most recently a series of fake benefits, the latest being The Benefit to Buy Harper Scharfman Higher SAT Scores. I’ve authored two books and two musicals, and co-written songs for TV shows. I even had a gig as a casting consultant for a CBS streaming project.
I teach workshops apart from the Groundlings — musical improv, improv writing, character, and corporate classes. I’ve designed and taught workshops for a number of venues, including LA Opera’s Young Artists Program , Margie Haber Studios, The Actors Comedy Studio, The Virginia Avenue Project, The Collaborative, and The Screen Acting Studio (where I’m teaching actors about using improv to stay spontaneous with a script).
The creative process brings me joy and has given me the privilege of working and playing with brilliant and talented people. Many have become lifelong friends. One became my husband.
What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?
Encourage, appreciate, and support it. A thriving creative ecosystem nourishes society. I think we’re living in a time in which some of the loudest non-creative voices are screaming out of fear, with little self-awareness, drowning out people’s thoughts. Writers, actors, visual artists, directors, dancers, composers, songwriters, essayists, musicians, singers, comedians – speak to our fears, our joys, to all our emotions, communicating ideas, spinning truth in new and thrilling ways. They also speak to the state of things.
Lately, I hear stories of schools cutting arts programs, and I think it’s a dangerous move. Those decisions have contributed to the shallowing of the community. Some people are wired to create. They need to do it and everyone else needs them to do it. Society can help patronize shows, clubs, bookstores, concerts, art openings, etc. Buy tickets and products and donate to theaters. Encourage and mentor talent.
Is there mission driving your creative journey?
I’m usually driven to find the next thing after I finish the last one. Also, I like variety – a spin on the ball, something new to learn, to try, that I’ve yet to do. As for my mission — well, I think we’re all here to shine our light.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: Phylliskatzofficial
- Facebook: Phyllis Katz
Image Credits
All images should be credited to Rob Lewine. For captions, the first image (not with the group of 4) is of me teaching at The Screen Acting Studio. In the group of 4, the one of people laughing is me running a workshop at LAOpera, the one of me surrounded by a group is me working with Japanese students from Pacific Road, USA, Inc.,, and the one at the microphone is a performance at The Groundlings Theatre. Let me know if these work for you. Thanks.