What is actor training and why does the modern person need it?

Actor training isn’t just a step toward becoming a performer. It’s a return to oneself. A practice that addresses the human condition at its core — reconnecting us to a deep, often forgotten sense of wholeness.

In today’s world, we’re encouraged to analyze ourselves in pieces: the body here, the mind there, emotions somewhere else. This reductionist mindset — rooted in deduction and induction — breaks the whole into parts in hopes of understanding it. It’s how our brain works: it compares, divides, categorizes everything into “right” and “wrong,” physical and mental. It’s natural — but not complete.

Philosophers and scientists across eras — from Aristotle to Jan Smuts — have offered a different view: holism. Holism sees meaning not in the parts alone, but in how they interact, support, and give rise to something new — something whole.

Think of a single cell. It doesn’t function in isolation. It thrives in connection — building tissues, organs, and networks that become a living body. Our bodies are orchestras of interaction. And so are we. Humans emerge not in isolation but in relation: with the self, with others, with the world.

A human being is not an isolated island. We express ourselves through relationships: with ourselves, with others, and with the world around us. The heart doesn’t beat on its own, lungs don’t breathe alone — our organs and systems constantly exchange signals, energy, and meaning. Our existence is a continuous network of relationships.

Philosopher Jan Smuts, who introduced the term holism in 1926, described the universe not as a collection of isolated parts but as a tendency toward integration and connection, creating new, stable wholes.

Wholeness through play

Actor training teaches us not to work with separate parts of ourselves but with the whole: the psycho-physical apparatus is activated not to “fix” a fragment, but to restore flow. Through interaction — both internal and external — we begin to live fully.

Actor training works with this wholeness: body, voice, attention, imagination, intuition, and emotions. It’s a process that teaches us to be here and now, not just on stage but in life.

One of the key methods is play. And this is far from “childish play.” Play is the oldest and most natural way of learning. In play, we relax, escape automatisms, and start perceiving ourselves and others more vividly and clearly.

Through acting exercises, we regain soft skills — flexible skills you can’t learn from a textbook:

• attentive listening,

• empathy,

• improvisation,

• connection,

• responsiveness,

• leading and following.

We reconnect with our body, voice, and inner impulse. And importantly: actors don’t sit still — an actor is always in motion. Actor training is learning through the body, knowledge that instantly turns into experience. And the body, as we know, never forgets.

The actor is the instrument

Unlike many other professions, an actor doesn’t have an external tool. A pianist has a piano, a programmer has a computer and code, a painter has brushes and paints. But an actor works with themselves. Their instrument is their whole self: body, voice, breath, attention, feelings, impulses, memory, imagination.

This makes the acting profession unique — it demands constant work on oneself. Literally, the actor is the instrument, and that says it all.

The life and profession of an actor are inseparable. You can’t “turn off” sensitivity or observation when you leave the rehearsal room. You can’t “not be in your body” when your body is your tool. That’s why an actor is always in training — not just technical, but life training. It’s a path of forming a special way of being, a way of seeing the world, oneself, and others.

Along this path, a person becomes attentive to their reactions, learns to listen and hear, to look and see, to feel and allow themselves to be alive — here and now.

When I studied at the University of Arts, I often thought: acting skills are needed not only by those who dream of the stage. This profession touches the very essence of being human. Acting training is a powerful development system everyone should try at least once, to truly ask themselves: Who am I? What is my purpose?

Sometimes it seemed to me that ideally, everyone should master acting craft first, and only then choose their profession. Or at least practice acting exercises alongside their main work. Because there is no other set of unique practices like this anywhere else.

Not in psychology (although family constellations partially use role play),not in yoga (which, by the way, is part of actor training as a supporting tool),not in coaching, not in meditation, not in bodywork.

Acting unites all this — and goes even further. Here, we don’t just work with the body — we teach it to live through a wide range of emotional and life states. Here, we don’t just focus attention — we use imagination as an active force of action. Here, we don’t just breathe — we speak through breath, filling it with meaning, impulse, and feelings.

Flexibility as a life necessity.

One of the key concepts in acting is given circumstances.The script sets the conditions in which the actor must exist, react, and act. Each time — differently. Each time — alive and authentic.

Now look at your own life: isn’t it the same? We constantly find ourselves in unexpected, new circumstances. And flexibility, adaptability, and the ability to stay centered in a changing world become crucial skills.

Actors learn this every day:

— how to live through an emotion without getting stuck;

— how to express yourself while staying connected to others;

— how to understand what you want and pursue that desire;

— through resistance, fear, and inner drama.

No wonder every character on stage has a goal. They are a hero because they act. An actor is someone who learns to be a hero — in every scene, every life, every moment.

Play as joy and a method of learning life.

One of the brightest side effects of acting is joy. It’s a state where you’re not just studying yourself and training attention, body, and voice — you feel alive.

I recall research by German neurobiologist Gerald Hüther and his amazing book “Rettet das Spiel” (“Save the Play”). He explains: play isn’t just entertainment; it’s the highest form of knowing the world and oneself.

Hüther writes that during true play, the brain’s “reward centers” activate, causing feelings of pleasure, joy, even ecstasy, while the fear center quiets down. We feel free. That’s when our creative potential shines.

When an actor steps on stage, they enter a state of “free play” — exploring circumstances, themselves, their partner, the space. They live in a world of possibilities, beyond everyday logic.

As Friedrich Schiller said:

“Man plays only when he is in the full sense of the word a man, and he is only fully man when he plays.”

Acting teaches us not just to adapt to reality but to play with it — flexibly, freely, joyfully. This training is not just for the stage but for life. And perhaps this is the true state of human being we all so often miss — especially as adults.