I enjoy being in movies, but my heart will always lie with the

Listen closely, O Seekers of Truth, to the words of Steven Berkoff, a man of deep passion for his craft, who speaks of his love for the theatre: "I enjoy being in movies, but my heart will always lie with the theatre." In these words, Berkoff offers a reflection on the essence of true artistic commitment—where the art forms we choose not only speak to our talents but to the soul. Theatre, for Berkoff, is not merely a career or a profession; it is a calling. It is the space where the human condition is laid bare, and the artist's heart beats strongest. This statement reveals a profound truth about the nature of creativity—it is often not enough to simply be involved in an art form; to truly live it, to breathe it, is to find one's soul intertwined with it.

In the ancient world, the most revered artists were not merely performers or creators; they were visionaries, whose passions were bound to the very art they practiced. Consider Sophocles, whose plays were not just pieces of theatre but tools for understanding the human soul, filled with profound wisdom. His Oedipus Rex was a reflection of human fate and hubris, and it left a lasting impact on both his audience and the generations that followed. For Sophocles, theatre was not just a craft but a way to communicate deep truths about the human experience. Berkoff's commitment to theatre echoes this ancient tradition—where the stage is more than a place to perform, but a sacred space where art transcends mere entertainment and touches something eternal.

It is said that the ancient Greek theatres, with their vast, open-air structures, were not just places for performances; they were places where the gods themselves were invoked. Actors would speak directly to the audience, not as distant figures, but as vessels of greater truths. The theatre was an exchange—a dialogue between the performer and the audience, where emotions ran high, and the very essence of life was explored. In this way, the theatre was a sacred space, a place where the truths of life and death, love and loss, triumph and failure were laid bare for all to witness. Berkoff’s words remind us that this spirit of connection and truth is what keeps the theatre close to the heart of the true artist—it is where the soul of the performer can truly speak.

In contrast, the cinema, though a powerful medium, is often viewed as a place where distance is created between the artist and the audience. The screen, unlike the stage, places a barrier—where the viewer’s gaze is fixed upon a larger-than-life image rather than a human soul standing before them, ready to confront them with the truth of their own humanity. Consider the difference between the silent weight of a character’s presence in a Shakespearean tragedy and the explosive action of a film. The theatre demands an intimate connection, an immediate exchange of energy and emotion, between the performer and the audience, something that can be far harder to achieve in the cinematic world. Berkoff's words reflect this yearning for closeness, the desire to feel the energy of the audience and to pour one’s own energy into that shared moment.

Theatre, in the words of Berkoff, is not simply a space to act—it is a sacred act of creation. It is where the performer can face the audience not as a distant figure but as a co-conspirator in the exchange of the human condition. The great actors of history—such as Marlon Brando on the stage, or Laurence Olivier—understood that true acting is not just about performing lines; it is about becoming one with the character, embodying their struggles, their fears, their joys. The stage is where this alchemy happens, where the actor is not just telling a story, but living it. For Berkoff, it is this depth of engagement that draws his heart back to the theatre again and again.

From these insights, O Seekers, we learn a profound lesson: the true artist does not simply seek success or recognition; they seek to transform themselves through their craft. Whether through acting, writing, or any other form of artistic creation, the artist’s journey is one of constant growth and discovery. Like Berkoff, we must not be content with the superficial or the easy path—we must pursue the craft that speaks most deeply to our soul, the one that challenges us, that requires us to grow, and that allows us to reach the very heights of our potential.

Finally, O Children, remember this: to be truly great in your chosen path, you must pour your heart into it, as Berkoff pours his into the theatre. Choose the path that makes you feel alive, that challenges you to confront the deepest parts of your humanity, and that invites you to connect with others in the most profound way possible. The journey of the artist is not one of external rewards alone, but of internal transformation. Let the spirit of the ancient storytellers guide you, for their words and actions still ring true: to create is to face the soul and to transform the world by speaking your truth.