Autobiography of an Acting Teacher

Autobiography of an Acting Teacher

by Mario A. Campanaro

Throughout my childhood, I remember always being fascinated by the powerful question, “Why?” I always wanted to understand why things were the way they were. I wanted to comprehend, as best I could, how they came to be that way and why they came to be that way. That kind of questioning inspired me to watch, listen, and observe everything around me and to start drawing my own conclusions through my individual experience and lens of perception. I wasn’t so interested in “being taught” as I was motivated by learning through experience. I found that the more I questioned everything, the more I was given the opportunity to “quest” into circumstances far beyond my small circle of everyday life. That kind of questioning allowed me the freedom to daydream and use my imagination to see, feel, hear, smell, and taste the possible historical circumstances surrounding whatever I was considering at the time. Of course, at that age, I wasn’t thinking of it that way—I was just having fun on the journey of wherever my imagination would take me. And so, my imagination began to grow very quickly into a vast world that gifted me the realization that everything comes from a “because of”… meaning there is always a motivation behind everything.

But with all that said, my desire for a tribe was not being fulfilled. I didn’t really fit in with others around me. Not many kids my age had similar interests to the ones I was drawn to. I felt quite the oddball and, very often, extremely lonely. I didn’t even know what it was that was fueling me. I just knew that whatever it was, I was really passionate about it, and I couldn’t find connections with people who were equally excited by the things that excited me. So I started to retreat to my basement, where I could literally do and become whatever I wanted. I would build and play within worlds that existed far beyond every color in the rainbow. I instinctually found solace in creating a world where I had freedom, solitude, and a sense of belonging to whatever I was exploring at the time. That world often existed in my parents’ basement, where I would create elaborate environments and build sets out of large pieces of construction paper, cardboard, and odds and ends I found throughout the house. I would sing my heart out down there and write scripts that often dealt with some kind of “strife.”

There was something within me that yearned to understand why others experienced suffering and how to find freedom from it. I remember the first script I wrote at that age was called The Beast and The Servant. It was about two extremely different beings who went through all these “trials and tribulations” to reconcile their differences—only to discover at the end of the 15-page script that it was a little boy looking in the mirror the whole time.

It wasn’t until we moved to a different town that I met a friend who, to my surprise, not only had similar interests but exactly the same interests—and who spoke the same language when it came to those interests. One night, his family invited me to see him in a play that he had been cast in. I had never seen or been to a play before. I don’t even think I knew what one was. The only theatre I had ever been to at that point was a movie theatre—I think it was E.T. at a drive-in.

I remember that night like it was yesterday. The theatre was this huge castle across from a big lake. You had to drive through these small, winding roads to get to it. When we pulled into the parking lot, it was like seeing something I had always imagined. This castle was spectacular. As soon as I stepped foot into the theatre, I felt right at home. It felt like it was home. It was strange—it was so new, but it felt so familiar, like I had been there my whole life. It was majestic. It was extraordinary. It was breathtaking. As a little kid, my eyes were wide open, taking it all in like a sponge—the huge stage, the massive theatre lights on the ceiling, the red velvet house seats, the audience together. And then the lights faded to black. The orchestra fired up. The curtain rose. And the stage lights illuminated an entirely different world from the one I was in. Time and space stopped. I was transfixed. Mesmerized. Awe-inspired. Found. It was at that exact moment I realized that everything I had been searching for—everything I loved, everything I was passionate about, everything that gave me so much unnamed joy—was finally defined as acting.

In that moment, theatre became my driving force—my spine—the passionate fire behind that powerful question, “Why?”

To say that I was creatively driven would be an understatement. I began to surround myself with everything related to art, theatre, music, dance, and, of course, acting. I started auditioning for regional theatres and was cast in my first production ever—at the same theatre where I had seen my friend’s show. I began working with different professional acting coaches who helped me cultivate skills, nurture my artistic passions, and introduce me to a whole new world of incredible cultures—all the while inspiring me to develop a sense of responsibility for my talents. I continued acting in productions throughout my formative school years until it was finally time to take the next step in my journey: to receive the very best professional acting training I could.

As a child actor, I got away with a lot of bad habits in my work. So it became clear that if I wanted a long-standing career, I needed to truly understand the craft. At 17, both enthusiastic and nervous, I auditioned for the top acting conservatories in the country and decided on the North Carolina School of the Arts (NCSA). Not only is it renowned for its exquisite actor training in America, it’s considered one of the top four professional actor training programs in the world by The Hollywood Reporter. For four years, I studied under the incomparable mentorship of the legendary Gerald Freedman, alongside NCSA’s acclaimed faculty of teachers and mentors from around the world. Six days a week (sometimes seven), we trained day and night in acting, drama, mask, movement, dance, singing, period and style, comedy technique, stage combat, voice and speech, breath work, dialects, Alexander technique, arts and context, text analysis, the art of story(living)telling, theatre history, design and production, hair and makeup, the business of acting, and of course, modern, classical, and musical performance in front of live audiences.

It was my fourth year, when we each had the opportunity to go to NYC and perform for some of the industry’s top agents, managers and casting directors. Back in that day, it was called “The Consortium”. From that day, I landed an incredible team of reps and signed with their agencies. One was for theatre, television, & film. The other for commercial, commercial print, and voice overs, and the other for editorial work. I graduated from NCSA with a BFA in drama and moved to New York City where I started to build my career and work in noted productions both on & off Broadway and in film & television.

That’s where the learning of the craft really had to happen in a very visceral and expedient way. You learn very quickly that this is not an easy profession. There is the art and then there is the business. The art exists within the business and the business exists because of the art.

I learned to always be on time…That the professional actor’s “On-Time” is showing up fifteen minutes early. My training really ingrained that in me but when I saw the consequences of a late actor before my very eyes, it got real, real fast. Simply put, a late actor easily becomes another actor’s opportunity.

The real world taught me that actors do not ever really have the luxury of leaning on the excuse of “I’m tired” especially because of the professional demands and necessary stamina, concentration, discipline, determination, perseverance, will, and tenacity needed just to say “I’m ready” and then truly BE READY at the drop of a hat.

I learned that you are responsible for your professional reputation by your actions or inactions. Word travels fast in this industry, so it is imperative to always stay professionally accountable. You never know who is watching, listening, or potentially inquiring about you. Your reputation will either illuminate you like a spotlight, or follow you like a shadow.

I am so thankful to have had the training I did to be sure I always put my everything into what I am doing, and to do it with both artistic integrity and high professional standards. I was (and thankfully still am) surrounded by well-established professionals so it was (is) crucial to always hold myself accountable to that high standard as a professional artist in a very complex and demanding business.

And most importantly, I learned, and still hold this close to me today, to always maintain your morals, respectfully stand your ground, stay available for adjustments, be ready for adaptability, dive into the struggles, embrace the learning experiences, welcome growth, and keep an open heart as much as humanly possible. Following graduation, my school offered a “consortium,” and I ended up in New York City, where I signed with theatrical, commercial, and modeling representation.

Around the same time, I was invited to begin teaching as a guest artist at an acting studio in midtown Manhattan. On my days off, I would go to the studio and have the honor of working with passionate, talented, aspiring artists who were hungry to cultivate their craft. Through that experience, I fell in love with teaching. Teaching not only helps the student learn and grow—it demands that I continue to challenge myself to stay open, remain a student of life, and evolve so that I can be the best actor, artist, teacher, playwright, and director I can be.

Now with that said, the journey was not a very smooth road. There will always be challenges. Especially when it comes to those things that truly mean something to us and that we really want. I guess that is because wherever and whenever the heart and soul is involved, the road seems to be that much more unpaved. It is almost as if the Universe is saying, “Ok…if you really want it, I’m going to make you work for it to be sure you really want it.” And I think that is important because it is through all of our trials and tribulations, that we formulate our purpose and greatest inspirations for what we are able to create and contribute to the world.

The first thing I think of is that quote from Bob Marley:

“You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice.”

I think we are all born with an innate quality of resilience. In fact, anyone blessed with life has the natural instinct to overcome the obstacles that stand in the way of love, peace, good health, and survival. By the nature of our birth, we come from the warm, comfortable, protective, and peaceful environment of our mother’s womb where everything we need is provided. Then all of a sudden, when nine months are up, we are thrust from that safe haven and pushed through a narrow (and I’m sure quite uncomfortable) passageway into a world of the complete unknown. We are literally born into a series of obstacles.

We enter the world having to adjust our eyes from darkness to light… from warmth to coldness… from solitude to socialization… from being completely provided for to having to communicate our wants and needs. I mean, one of the first experiences we have after such a complex journey into the world is someone cutting and clipping our umbilical cord. “Welcome to the world, kid!” lol.

But what is amazing and quite beautiful is our instinctual and immediate ability to want to communicate in order to improve our present situation and keep on keeping on. We discover our cry. And that cry carries a myriad of different intonations and intentions based on what it is trying to express and get fulfilled. That first cry is born out of discomfort from all the new sensorial conditions, strangers, and unfamiliar objects surrounding us. We want to rest from the journey and be in the protective space of our mother’s energy field… We want the warmth from which we came… We want the peace of that original iambic pentameter that comes from our mother’s heartbeat.

And that’s really what it’s all about. All human beings are doing what they can, moment to moment, to experience their own version of the peace from which they came.

I’m not sure that anything about the human experience is a very smooth road—just like that passage from our mother’s womb into the world. There will always be challenges, especially when it comes to the things that truly mean something to us and that we really want. I guess that’s because wherever and whenever the heart and soul are involved, the road seems to be that much more unpaved. It’s almost as if the Universe is saying, “Ok… if you really want it, I’m going to make you work for it to be sure you really want it.” And I think that’s important—because it is through all our trials and tribulations that we formulate our purpose and our greatest inspirations for what we are able to create and contribute to the world.

When I consider my life, I really started to viscerally understand and experience my own personal resilience during a very long season of severe chronic illness. It caused me to taste every single symptom one could imagine—physical, mental, emotional, and even spiritual. Because of this, I fought for many, many years (often in secret) and almost lost my life. I used everything I had within me and went all over the globe to find answers—a way to conquer this “thing” that was trying to take me out. Sometimes I did some pretty crazy treatments, but I deeply wanted to stay here. I wanted to survive. I wanted Life. I had too much to do on this earth and wanted to make a difference.

During this time, one of the things I had to do was isolate myself for quite some time—years, in fact—to protect myself and my immune system. That isolation, that loss of time and life, created a craving that I knew was my calling. Everything I missed out on became my mission. That long, difficult, horrendous, scary, lonely, desperate test became the basis of my present testimony.

I can honestly say that experience greatly influenced who I am today. It made me extremely strong—as well as extremely sensitive. All those obstacles, all those hard and treacherous times, have actually been the stepping stones to where I am now. They generously shaped the way I teach, write, direct, and live. Those circumstances blessed me with compassion, insight, wisdom, and a deep understanding of the human condition in a way I never could have had if I hadn’t endured those tough times.

I lost a lot along the way—I did. But those things were not meant to stick around. Instead, I gained so much more than I could have ever imagined. Those obstacles helped me understand life more. They helped me appreciate life more. They helped me understand others more deeply. I not only witnessed and experienced my own suffering, but I was also in communication with many others suffering inexplicably. It opened me up. It opened my heart. It helped me taste aspects of life that many of us try to push away or pretend don’t exist.

When I think back, I have to chuckle in awe—because the whole time I was on that healing journey, I never stopped working. I couldn’t. I needed it. Resilience. It was my work that fueled me to fight harder and try to win the battle. And everything I have learned along this journey—however difficult—has become a key component of my work and the reason I’m able to bring out the very best in the artists I work with today. It gave me a more profound vocabulary of the human condition, which is invaluable when it comes to the world of acting.

I quickly learned that it is actually our obstacles that formulate our actions in the pursuit of our objectives. Everything that is done or acted upon usually happens because someone is trying to maintain or improve whatever circumstances they’re in at the moment. And wherever and whenever there is inspired, justified motivation, there is a story where anything and everything is possible. Realizing this made me understand that the human spirit is truly resilient when it is going after what it wants or needs.

I’ve said it time and time again to all our ensemble members, actors, students, clients, and in many interviews I’ve done—and I’ll say it again here because I truly believe it:

“Sometimes we have to walk through our very own Hades to get to our very own Utopia. We may endure a lot. We may even suffer at times. But if we keep persevering… if we keep sight of what we want… if we keep believing in what we are doing… if we simply do not give up… we usually find that all that hardship pays it forward by bringing something profoundly fulfilling into our life. We may want to cry at times because it hurts so bad… and then we may want to laugh until it hurts, simply because we got through it when we never thought we would or could. And once we make it out of that fire, we will finally see all the beauty hidden within the ashes. Each of us has our own story of strife and struggle. And each of us has the potential for our own very deserving and awe-inspiring victory. I truly believe that we are way more powerful than we have been led to believe. The only way to lose sight of the dream is by giving up on it. So… no matter what obstacles show up at our door, all I can say is: Do. Not. Give. Up!”

We all go through seasons in our life that come with difficult trials and tribulations. It’s something that connects all of us. I mean, aren’t we all trying to improve our lives moment by moment to experience peace, love, health, happiness, joy, success, prosperity, etc.? I know I am.

Life itself is always going to create the need for stories. It will generate very human, beautifully complicated, layered, heart-wrenching, and also victorious stories. And everybody’s story deserves to be heard and witnessed in some way. Every single one of our stories is backed by the pain we’ve endured and the work we’ve done to overcome it. Tough times and difficult circumstances will always test our most vulnerable points. And that is a beautiful and very human map of what needs our attention—our awareness. It’s our awareness, observation, and the practice of what we’ve learned about ourselves, others, and the human condition that will inevitably inspire and inform how we live honestly, truthfully, and authentically in our work as actors.

Let’s face it—this may often feel inconvenient, difficult, tedious, or even heart-wrenching during the process… during the season… especially when there’s no immediate payoff. But the more we stay on track… the more we continue to persevere… the more we align, refine, and cultivate our craft… the more we grow and expand… the more the payoff will eventually and inevitably come.

It’s about persevering through. Even during those moments when we feel like we can’t or don’t want to. It’s not about going around it. It’s not about going over it. It’s not about going underneath it. It’s about going through it—and knowing we will make it through. It’s about being religious (meaning disciplined) in our approach to what we want to achieve as artists. Being focused, disciplined, and holding ourselves accountable within and throughout the process—because we love what we do. And because we know there is, always has been, and always will be greatness within each of us, worthy of doing the work we love with all our heart and soul.

Our work—this thing called Acting—is not for the faint of heart. And it is not trivial or without substance. It is pregnant with the human condition! And with that invested, mindful, committed work, we must remember that the word ACT means TO DO! The artist perseveres when it would make sense to crumble. The artist perseveres because, by the very nature of being an artist, we create… we move forward… we give birth to something from something and because of something.

Again, just like Bob Marley said:

“You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice.”

That is true resilience—and I believe we all have it.

To be human is to be resilient.

Driven by my deep love for both acting and teaching—and all the triumphs and challenges that have come with them—I founded MC² Actors Studio (LA | NYC | LDN). Now internationally recognized, the studio offers conservatory-based, ensemble-driven training devoted to cultivating craft and mastery for the professional actor. I’m also proud to have established MC² Repertory Theatre Company, a professional company in association with the studio, dedicated to giving our ensemble a creative home to develop and present high-caliber theatrical productions for both live and virtual audiences.

Copyright © 2025 Mario A. Campanaro, All rights reserved."