For Tamilla Woodard, theater and science aren’t all that different. Though their methods may differ, these areas of study share a common aim: to elevate the human experience.
The skills and techniques students learn at Yale University’s David Geffen School of Drama, where Woodard is in her third year as chair of the acting program, are in service to a higher mission: feeding the soul through the art of storytelling. Sound hyperbolic? In Woodard’s eyes, committing yourself to serious acting training requires nothing less.
The Geffen School encourages collaboration across disciplines; for example, actors regularly perform in original works by student playwrights. Add to that a powerful alumni network that includes the likes of Meryl Streep, Angela Bassett, and Paul Giamatti, and graduating from the acting MFA program is a true badge of distinction in a highly competitive industry. And given that only 16 students (1.2% of last year’s applicant pool) are admitted annually, receiving an acceptance letter alone is an honor.
Here, Woodard, an alum herself, breaks down the benefits of the program and responds to those who would challenge the place of theater education at Ivy League universities.
What defines a Yale actor?
We feed curiosity over fear here. We mold folks who feel confident with lateral and hierarchical collaboration. Most importantly, their art-making is enriched and fed by their own humanity. When students leave here, they know whether or not they have the heart for the work. It requires a lot; it costs a lot. It’s a life, not a hobby.
Yale’s acting program was established decades before Columbia and Harvard founded theirs. Why do you think Yale puts such a high value on theater training compared with other Ivy League schools?
We train capital-A artists. This work requires all of you—physically, mentally, psychologically, and intellectually. And that training deserves the resources that higher education [can provide]. More institutions, including our federal government, should treat artists the way they do doctors. Artists minister to the soul of the human just as doctors minister to the body.
Actors are the keepers of knowledge, the holders of revelation. The Greeks had it right; they knew the importance of theater for the health of the city-state. If our society thought of theater storytellers as people who reinforce our humanity, then I think more Ivy Leagues would put their resources toward educating actors.
I had an interesting experience at an education conference recently: A math professor from a fancy university challenged the place of theater programs in higher learning, questioning their intellectual worth. What would you say in response?
This is strange—I just had this same conversation with a friend of mine who’s a very famous mathematician; so maybe these math guys really love asking this question. What I said to him is that art is science. Art is science! You’re looking to solve something that will bring the human effort forward, right? We’re doing the same work.
Yale’s acting program is highly selective, which is part of the draw. What do you look for in applicants?
We see every single person who wants to audition. The more people who apply, the smaller the percentage who get in. For me, what’s important about a selective process is that we encourage students in many ways of doing and making. [So we’re always open to] folks who’ve never been onstage before but feel somewhere in them that acting is the thing for them, that this is it. We’re looking for people who are shiny—and “shiny” doesn’t necessarily mean that they’ve had a lot of conservatory training before. Some people came from being accountants or studying neuroscience; some people came from being athletes; some people came from the army. They’re shiny; storytelling is at the center of their soul.
A lot of casting directors might agree. If you already have the ability to show up and demonstrate your talent in a way that resonates with industry people, why go to grad school?
Some people don’t need it; what they need is a little more courage to get out there and do it. The Geffen School is not the place you come to for “a spit and polish,” as my colleague Walton Wilson put it. That’s not what this is. We can see it right away. [If that’s what you’re looking for,] you’re going to get tired and fed up.
Do you think there’s a major difference in techniques for onstage versus on-camera acting?
I don’t think there’s a difference in what the actor’s job is. It’s living inside the reality of the character and rising to their given circumstances. It’s living authentically and in defense of what that character needs and wants more than anything in the world. If the actor sees it, I see it. The medium just changes the scope or concentration of effort.
The benefit of attending such a small program is that there’s a real opportunity for mentorship. What are your thoughts on this component of the experience?
Students here act as each other’s mentors across cohorts. It’s very useful to recognize that someone has already taken the journey. They’ve gone through the dark room and they’ve survived. It breeds courage; it boosts your stamina. It’s useful to know that you’re not the only one. A mentor is a light in the dark. [They help you realize:] If I keep moving, I can make it, too. A mentor is someone who knows what to tell you and when you need to hear it.
What advice would you give actors who are considering studying the craft?
Craft is only one part of it; heart is all of it. That’s the whole of the advice.
This story originally appeared in the Oct. 3 issue of Backstage Magazine.