4/22/06 Reactions to February production of OUR TOWN

(I wrote this reaction to the Warren Wilson Theatre production of OUR TOWN, directed by Ron Bashford, shortly after I saw it, but somehow failed to post it to the blog. Rather than add it to an existing post from that time, I'll put it here.)

Reactions to OUR TOWN (2/16)

Good, good student production of a great script. Beautifully directed. Clear and simple, simple, simple. Some opportunities missed, I suppose, but many more right on the button. Great for the actors: great teaching tool about acting and theatre--good antidote to all the crap they're awash in and all the "acting" they think is expected.

I'm struck by what a truly strange play it is. Just as it seems to settle down into its placid, reassuring, quaint self, Wilder throws in something like, "A thousand marriages. One of them interesting." (or something like that). I'm struck, too, by the violence of it. George's scene with his father, especially (though it could have been pared down even more and the violence made even stranger). And the wedding scene--those moments of expressionistic outburst--strange and true. Nicely done. And Emily's mother's strange wedding speech about how wrong it is. Great writing.

Visually, the last act worked very well. The moment with the dead and Emily in the spot but not yet in her grave and the living under the umbrellas against the black of the empty house: perfect picture.

The Stage Manager's (Glenn's) speech about eternity: good choice to deliver it forcefully (yet very cleanly) because it put me right up against my own skepticism about his declaration that everybody believes that there's something that eternal about people. I don't believe that, but it's the god question--or, in the play, Nature rather than God--and I seem to be coming up against it frequently these days...

Audience on the stage facing out into the house (scrim down at the proscenium till the last act) worked very, very well. Picket fence surrounding audience was wonderful. Also, the cast welcoming the audience in while in student street clothes at the beginning and then making the transition into period dress as the action began worked to break down the audience/actor barrier while simultaneously heightening the transparent theatricality that Wilder calls for. Not a crazy radical idea or updating, just bringing the script into the here-and-now.

I think working on the New England accents was a good idea on the whole--again, the obvious theatricality (we're pretending to be people in a different place and time) but created some problems, too. Some people tended to move into a kind of Brooklyn accent which was distracting. I became aware of the accents rather than the action. At the same time, the effort was light enough that I never felt that the actors, even the ones having trouble with it, were playing the accent rather than the moment.

I was very impressed by the fact that Glenn as S.M. played with absolute focus and calm, clear ease. Even when he became emphatic, he didn't start "acting". He was very specific and played the material rather than playing a character. Good work.

4/17 Reflections on race and Shakes. & Co. workshop

Quick reflections on S&co workshop after reading Spinning Into Butter:

The play: I don't think it's a good play but it's really interesting. Says some things. Makes me think.

The workshop: What was valuable was the effort to speak in my own voice, to find my voice. That was the focus of all the work, of Linklater's work, of Dave's teaching. Finding your voice. And that was what was successful about my session with him working on the Iago speech. I felt liberated and energized and given permission to be myself in the finding of my voice, which had everything to do with naming what was going on at the moment, what I wanted to say.

BUT that doesn't really have anything to do with whether I was right or not. My great discovery--that I just wanted to say to people, "Stop it. Stop doing it. Stop being stupid." (though I didn't use the word "stupid" I wish I had)--was true but it's not the answer. And Dave's statement to me: "You're not a racist. You can't play a racist, but you can play what you feel." Well, it's nice but it's not true either. And it's not really the point. I'm not going to solve my racism, stop participating in the whole sick enterprise, by "working on myself," by finding the racist in me. But I'm not going to solve it (I'm not going to solve it period) by saying, "Hey, I'm really not a racist." Because it isn't really about me, about my guilt, the racist messages I've absorbed. That's part of it, sure, but not the main project.

So the liberating experience was valuable, is a good experience to have had, and one that I hope I can build on and have again. But it doesn't really have much to do with race.

But the issue, the real issue, of the workshop was finding the voice, or a voice, or the voice for that moment (I have a bit of trouble with the idea of a "natural" voice, an authentic voice that would be essentially true, honest, mine for all time; in the same way, I have trouble with Dave's use of the word "soul." I think I know what he's trying to get at when he says emotions come from the soul and are therefore deep, complex, always changing, ineffable but real--I'm putting words in his mouth--but I prefer to limit it to what is happening right now without trying to essentialize it. Hah! I'm talking from theory I know very little about--what am I doing? Anyway...). The work of seeking that voice seems intensely valuable from a theraputic and, yes, artistic point of view. Which just means I want to do it.

I wonder what the connection is between and actor learning to speak out of his true voice and a writer "finding her voice"? And is a writer's "voice" always the same one?

4/14-16: notes on Shakespeare & Company's Berkshire Intensive

SHAKESPEARE & COMPANY:
BERKSHIRE WEEKEND INTENSIVE
Friday-Sunday, April 14-16

BASIC NOTES ON ACTIVITIES

Friday Evening:

Dave (teacher) had us sit in circle, say who, where from, relationship to theatre, what we wanted from workshop, and one thing we wouldn't tell a group of strangers.

Then discussion about voice, acting, Shakes. etc (skimpy notes follow):
-- in Shakespeare, the actor reveals the self primarily through speaking rather than showing through behavior; the physical happens as a result of speaking.
-- voice work involves getting out of one's own way, removing obstacles, connecting with the deepest part of the self.
-- the thing that needs to be spoken...
-- speaking from the soul reminds us (the audience) of who we are.
-- soul: the innermost essential place in one (to me, this is a problematic idea which raises questions of who I really am and does a place exist)
-- voice: the more vibration, the more information.
-- volume doesn't come from greater effort ("projecting"); it comes from greater desire
-- play is important; it's called a play: when you give yourself over to just playing, things start to happen.

Then we began to work:

Gen stretching on our own; yawn & stretch; sigh out (NOT voiced); sigh into area that needed stretching

Finding neutral: place feet under hips by finding indentation from lifting foot; set foot down under hip;
gently sway forward & back; find still point but be conscious that tiny unseen movement continues.
sway side to side (like breeze gently pushing tree); find still point
sway on diagonals & then into circle; find still point

Mill and seethe exercise (returned to after each exercise): just forming large circle, walking through center area on way to other point on periphery; continue

As mill: shake hands gently (shaking water off them); add shaking elbows; add one knee; add one buttock; add opposite foot; add other parts--keep milling

Drop all and mill; notice how you're feeling

Listen for inner voice: what is it saying? become aware of it

As mill, notice whether mouth open or closed; play
" ", notice breathing: hold breath at any point? try letting breath go at that point
" ", notice where eyes are focusing: play with diff. focus points (floor, up, just above heads, inward, outward
" ", make eye contact with others--hold as long as you want w/out twisting neck; notice how affects breathing
" ", increase pace; increase again

Come to still place; stand; closes eyes

Visualization: starting w/ feet & working up, imagine bones and imagine bubble of air between each joint; really see the bones; ex: see where hip bones & pelvic bones & coccix wrap together to form huge bowl; work up spine to first vertebratee behind nose & between ears; take a long time to work through entire body until feel like being held up just by bones;
Then: mill remaining conscious of skeleton (let it move you); conscious of foot bones as start to move; let arms hang off collarbones and sway.

Come to still place; stand; close eyes

More visualization: imagine a tiny "you" in a bubble dressed just as you are inside skull (between nose & top vert.); tiny you looks up and sees dome of skull from inside;
Let tiny you drop down to below soft palate; look up and see where soft palate meets hard palate; see huge double arches of hard palate; look forward along palate to back of front teeth; see space between front teeth;
Let tiny you drop down to larynx: what does it look like to you? color?
Drop down to lungs: see lungs as soft pink curtains that billow out gently with inhalation, drop back on exhalatiion;
Look down and see diaphragm as pink parachute: billows down on inhale, returns on exhale
Drop down through diaphragm to bowl formed by pelvic bones; look down and see pool of vibrations: all the sounds you ever made or will make or want to make; all the words you said, will say, left unsaid, wanted to say.
Let yourself drop down into pool that sets off vibration (sigh out w/ sound); very gentle "huh"; drop down more of yourself to set off double-set as "huh-huh"

Open eyes; mill & seethe

Come to still place in front of a partner; become conscious of giving and taking air, breathing their air; what do you see about them that is most beautiful? look at it; what do you see about them that is most goofy?look at it; become conscious of being seen as beautiful; as goofy
Let your breath go to your partner; let it out
Take partner's hands; become conscious of holding their hands & being held
Say your own name to partner
Say partner's name to partner
Say good-bye
Mill and reflect on what happened

Repeat with new partner and: what do you notice about how they hold their hope? their lonliness?
Reach out and touch partner's cheeck (both do at same time); become conscious of touching & being touched;
(same name/good-bye biz)
Mill and reflect on what happened

Repeat with new partner; let the mask of your face go and just be with them; how hold their anger? their (?); put your hand on partner's heart
(same name/good-bye biz)
Mill and reflect on what happened

Come to still place; collapse on floor, let it take you, sigh of relief

(to be continued: describe ages exercise: 5 yrs, 9 yrs, 13 yrs.)

=============

Saturday morning:

Talked about breath, voice, Alexander technique, Linklater technique (both trying to remove blocks from natural alignment & voice.
Talked about body forming habits, with a terrific exercise illustrating: clench one fist and keep clenching it as discussion continues; eventually stop clenching and relax, but don't open hand. Fact that hand stays closed result of body forming a habit. Notice how difficult it is to open hand: that's body resisting changing the learned habit.

Inhale through nose: trace with hands path of breath up into head, down into chest & abdomen (noticed that breath seemed to get stuck in my chest). Repeat path with hands & look at others'.
Now inhale through mouth and trace path: seemed to fall much more directly from mouth down to abdomen (trace path).
Conclusion: for acting, breathing through mouth best: allows more intuitive breathing (without thinking), more quickly available allowing actor to respond to stimulus quickly.

Mill & seethe, breathing through mouth; shake parts of body as mill; pick up pace (without shaking) till moving quickly; reach forward, up, back with one arm as move; same with other arm; while moving quickly, head for open space (move into it with joy & conviction); pick one person to be imaginary enemy (don't tell who)--while milling quickly, try to stay as far from enemy as possible while still moving into open spaces; now pick second person to be ally (don't tell who)--try to keep ally between you and enemy at all times while moving into empty spaces.

Come to still place & stand w/ feet under hips; raise one arm straight out to side; inhale and coordinate consciously lowering arm with exhalation (end movement with breath). Now, instead of consciously moving, just drop arm and drop air out through mouth--no effort, just let go of arm and breath. Repeat other side. Drop both arms at once (with breath), return to position not quite straight out. Drop, then raise arms again not quite as far. Continue until just hands flexing wrists. Let go of breath and arms (or hands) at same moment. Don't force air out, just let it drop out.

Rub hands together to warm, then place hands on sides of jaw; let warmth penetrate jaw muscles; then gently draw hands down jaw to massage so jaw hangs open.

Gently turn elbow points toward front; imagine balloons tied to elbows; float elbows up; float wrists up; float fingers up; break at wrists, elbows, shoulders; let heavy head drag body down (little sigh of relief for each vertebrate); bend legs until in "Chinese rest" position; lower back to floor one vertebrate at a time until lying on back, knees up, feet flat.

Imagining pool, touch off "huh", "huh-huh", "huh-humm", etc. Extend legs, bring one knee to chest, hold, jiggle as "huh-hummm"; expose inner thigh and jiggle and hum; draw knee over to other side, jiggle & hum; repeat with other leg; draw both knees up, jiggle & hum; open both knees out, exposing inner thighs, jiggle and hum. Yawn & stretch, roll to side, "banana" yawn & stretch, repeat other side. Crouch, roll up to standing position.

(I think at this point we moved around room using "huh-humm" until gathering into large circle.)

Imagine pool, touch of "huh-humm" imagining that sound has specific color; let color gather behind lips; now, following "huh-humm-mah" with hands, let gather behind lips and then into hands in front of mouth; now same but let sound paint a person across circle; repeat; finally, let sound paint entire group.

Using hands to jiggle belly, speak one line of text (individually, moving around circle).

=======================

Saturday afternoon & evening:

We began to work on speeches. Chairs arranged in arc; first person walked to "stage", faced group breathing, looking at group; then spoke text; after finishing, stood and breathed; as that person returned to chair, next person took position and continued.

We reflected on what that experience was like (most agreed it was nerve-wracking. I was the last person, and as my time approached, my hands were icy; I got through the speech without going up, but I was conscious that my legs were shaking, my body was tingling, I did not feel "in my body"; I felt that I was able to focus my concentration on my speaking but I was not using or accepting the fact that I was shaking.)

Then Dave (the teacher) worked with each person individually while group watched. He asked who wanted to go first, and I volunteered. I stood facing him and the group as before; he began by asking why I had chosen this speech. We talked about my concern with race and the idea of white identity, the threat (sexual and other) to white privilege, etc. He kept probing to find out what concerned me. I think we focused on how being conscious of insecurities made me feel, what it made me want to do, which led to Iago wanting to "get" Othello and to rub Brabantio's face in the fact of his daughter being fucked by a black man. I did the speech out of that desire, which felt strong and liberating in a vicious way. Dave noted that I had, in a sense, backed off for the last line of the speech and wondered what it would have been like not to have done that. Somewhere in this process, I mentioned the sense that I was "acting", and that led to a long and very fruitful discussion of why I feared acting (in life as well as on stage) and where the message came from that there was something wrong with overdoing things, with my natural exuberance. Then (I'm not sure about the sequence of the conversation), he suggested the image of a life (or parts of a life) built like a house of cards which collapses, and asked if that related, and if so, how I felt about preconceptions collapsing. We talked about how that made me feel, and about how I felt about having to think about this race stuff all the time, and the talking eventually led him to ask me what I (Graham) wanted to say to the people in the room about this whole issue, which resulted in me saying to them, "It's so stupid! It's so unnecessary, just stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!" He immediately told me to begin the speech from that place. I felt that, in my anger, I was mocking them for their racial attitudes and the waste it entailed, which turned into mocking Brabantio for his attitude. The result was extremely liberating, exuberant, connected, and felt honest and unrestrained. I achieved what I had hoped for in terms of connecting with the awful, ugly aspects of racism, but in a completely different way than I had expected. (Dave said to me, "You can't play a racist because you're not a racist. But you can play how you feel about it.")Felt like a breakthough.

I watched Dave work with each person, taking care to find out their connection to the piece, exploring, probing, questioning that connection to find out what was most important to the person. A question he frequently asked was, "What do you most want to say to us about yourself (or to a particular person; i.e., Victor to his father)?" When the person could articulate that desire, "Use the speech to say it to us." The point was not to speak out of a though about what the character wanted or needed at that moment, nor even out of what the sense of the speech was, but what our connection to the speech prompted us to need to say to these people right now about us.

A good deal of the work seemed to be about articulating, taking responsibility for those feelings that were difficult, painful, risky to name. The work was very like therapy, but I didn't have the familiar feeling that it was misguided, that it was about the actor rather than the material, because the result seemed to be a truthful speaking of the text; it was about the text because the person who was the actor was absolutely present while speaking it. No gap between character and and actor; the same thing.

It wasn't all wrenching: One person doing Polonius couldn't remember her lines and the exercise became about playing with what was actually going on (groping, stumbling, laughing about it) while continuing to play the scene. Extremely productive.

The degree to which Dave led each of us to reveal ourselves in relation to speaking these texts was astonishing and powerful. I was constantly struck by people's courage. He never backed off from tears and fears but led us through them, always focusing on breath and staying "on your voice," not retreating into quietness or breathiness, and not turning inward but staying connected to the audience. Everyone achieved something impressive.

Another nice teaching technique: To push us into jumping into it (jumping off the cliff): "Off you go," meaning, do it now, don't hesitate, but in a supportive, non-coercive way.

===============

Sunday morning:

Dave began with asking us all to "check in": to voice what we were feeling at the moment. He talked about the process of "checking in" as the first step in the work. The point is not to do it, acknowledge it, and set it aside so you can do something else, but to start from where you are and let everything that happens grow out of that--and grow out of where you are at any given moment. So the work--exercises, rehearsal, performance, whatever--is always coming from what you are actually feeling at the moment. (I find the process of checking in to be difficult, but I'm hoping it will get easier with practice.)

He spoke at some length about the physics and physiology of sound: muscles as soft, non-porous material which soaks up and muffles sound waves; bone as hard, porous material which both bounces sound and allows it in so it can resonate (re-sound) within the bones of the body, setting up vibrations which travel to other bodies and the bones in them, literally "moving" other bodies. He had one person put hand on throat and back of neck of partner, take hands away, move together to simulate space taken up by larynx and neckbones, leaving about 1 1/2 inches for vocal folds. Point is, they are very close to the bones, and the sound can travel up and down through all the bones of the body.

(I'm struck how this clinical description is so much more helpful in thinking about resonating from literally any part of the body than is Growtowski's sort of mystical approach--as near as I can remember.)

He went on to talk about the progression of the work: relaxing and releasing the muscalature to allow breath; finding the breath (letting in fall in, then out on a sigh of relief) to allow you to check in; checking in to discover what it is that you desire to speak; letting the sound fall out to freely speak out of that desire; relaxing the muscles so that they allow the bones to resonate without damping the vibrations and allow the vibrations (resonance) to travel outside the body to affect other bodies.

(I was struck with what a terrific way this kind of description is to help student actors understand how the can affect each other and allow themselves to be affected.)

The important thing is being in touch with the desire to speak, that there is something at this moment that I feel needs to be said, that I need to say. (Good thought to use when talking to my first year seminar about making theatre because you want to say something.) The purpose of all this work is to free the voice to allow the desire to be realized. I'm reminded of something Dave said earlier: Increased volume doesn't come from greater effort; it comes from greater desire. The desire in this case is to speak to another person on stage, but also to speak to the audience: I, the actor, need them to hear me.

(Suddenly, I'm realizing that one of the things, perhaps the thing that I love most about Amie, is that she speaks with her own voice. She seems to have her own voice. Honesty.

Warm-up:
Standing: feeling bones of feet, imagining them spreading; picturing bones and bubble of air at top of anklebones, leg bones, thigh bones, pelvic girdle, spine, ribs, shoulder girdle, arm bones hanging off of shoulder girdle, neck bones. Head hanging over: fingers at back of neck, lifting head while keeping neck long. Massage jaw gently; using thumbs & forefingers together to trace upper jaw (thumbs in jaw hinges). Imagine hanging small weights from points below jaw hinges. Let jaw hang (slackjawed--but with eyes and nose alert); put forefingers at points of jaw hinges and lift upper jaw away from lower jaw till head tilted back; close & repeat.

Walking around the room: becoming conscious of breathing pattern; letting breath drop in, feeling it as far down as the peritoneum, pause till need to breathe, then letting go, letting go of the breath like letting the arm fall (sighs of relief); check in: feeling what?; imagine pool of vibrations and let ripple of sound come out: "Huh." Let sound come from desire to speak from where you are emotionally: "Huh." (It's the thought, the image itself, rather than a sound which signifies the thought, the image.) "Huh-huh. Huh-huh-huh." Continue, changing the sounds: "Huh-hummm. Huh-hum-mah." Etc.

(Dave is leading us through something very similar to what I do with my students, but now it is connected to my understanding of the purpose, rather than just rote.)

Notice other people. Flick speck of dust off their shoulder as you pass them: "Huh." Brush shoulder. Brush them down the back. Let effortless sounds accompany the actions.

Forming a circle. Dave leads us through sounds which develop (again, like I've done with students only better): "Hi!" "Hey!" "Heyyyyyy!" Etc. This develops into a long, hilarious, call-and-response articulation exercise improvising off various tongue-twisters: Billy Buttons and his bananas, Peter Piper and his peppers, others. We're speaking to each other: it's fun, energized, free, and a wonderful workout.

Another important part of the warm-up, but I can't remember where it fit into the sequence: In pairs, A stands behind B: both are breathing; A warms up hands and places them on B's neck and shoulders, letting partner feel warmth; then A gently massages B's neck and shoulders; then A moves fingers up along neck bones till forefingers are along occipital ridge; then A moves forefingers up to bump at back of head, then moves down to slope of bump and, with a gentle push upwards, prompts B to let head fall forward; A starts massaging down one vertebrate at a time as B rolls down until hanging over from legs; A rubs B's sacrum; then A moves finger up each vertebrate, giving a litte "zzztttt" sound with each one as B rolls up until upright with head hanging over; then A places fingers of hand across neckbones and places forefinger of other hand on B's forehead; A gently lifts B's head by pushing on forefinger while keeping fingers on neck to encourage B to lift head while keeping neck long; A then kneels in front of B, placing hands firmly on tops of B's feet; A pushes strongly on B's feet three times, each time saying "Camel feet;" A stands behind B and gently pushes to start B moving around the room, then stands back to admire her/his creation.

=======================

Sunday afternoon (last session):

Lecture on grammar, syntax, rhetoric:

In Shax time, not yet formal grammar or dictionary. English not quite a formalized language unlike Latin or French; no rules of spelling, punctuation, how to order words (syntax), proper way to structure a sentence (grammar).

Because we are now steeped in grammar, we tend to think that speech conforms to grammar. When we speak Shax, we speak it grammatically. We want and expect the verbal experience of the written word.

Dave has taped a large sheet of paper on the wall containing Leontes' speech from WT (Act 1?) as it appears in Riverside edition. He reads it aloud as we follow with our eyes, an example of reading grammatically: pausing and breathing somewhat at commas, more completely at periods.

He then takes down the paper, revealing another paper underneath with same speech written as it appears in first folio, and with punctuation marks in one color, capital letters in another, and spelling differences in a third. The first paper is taped to the side so we can compare both side-by-side.

He makes the point that the First Folio version indicates that Shax is using punctuation and capitalization rhetorically rather than grammatically; it is written to be uttered, not to be read. There is a grammar, however, on that is derived from Latin and Greek.

When speaking rhetorically rather than grammatically, the character is attempting to say something he doesn't fully understand. Working it out.

In verse, the line of verse is the main unit; the sentence is the main unit in grammar.

Capitalized words (in 1st Folio) tend to lift out the thematic content of what is being said. Parentheses appear to indicate what is "under the surface" (I don't quite get this idea). Punctuation has nothing to do with where the speaker breathes but how the though is being developed.

He then drops what for me is a very problematic bombshell of an idea: The actor should only breathe at the ends of each verse line (I guess this proves I haven't read Linklater's Freeing Shakespeare's Voice; I obviously need to take a look at it). However, he cushions it by saying that, in performance, you breathe whenever you need to (and also with Shax prose). But he makes his point by reading Leontes' speech and breathing on the end of every line: It's remarkable how the though is brought alive.

(When working this way, it's important that every line doesn't become a declamatory statement or a single emotional act.)

Taking a breath at the end of each line of verse clues the actor in to what is happening physically. Instead of commas taking the wind out of the sails (instead of pausing), working in this way means using the comma to incite, to energize, to further the thought.

(When S & Co works with kids, they hardly ever have script in hand; their lines are fed to them (similar to the dropping in exercise, but on their feet). They learn the text by listening and speaking, not by reading!)

Working:

Dave stood beside the person working, giving auditory cues to take a breath (snapping) and visual cues to use the comma to energize (waving his arm). Looked like it was confusing but exciting for the actor.

The galloping rhythm that often results from breathing at the ends of the lines worked like gangbusters for Dyan's speech (Queen Margaret, HVI) but caused Karen to race; but Dave then worked to help Karen to slow down and still use the commas to energize. Fred (Edgar, Lear) had real difficulty not breathing grammatically, but not pausing for the commas was really effective in one place.

Dave, coaching: "You don't need to figure out what the breath means (i.e., why you're breathing there); just let the breath in."

Shifts within the speech (beat changes or intensification, or just a comma) happen not with the breath but with a shift in energy--but, boy, do they happen!

Following the rhythm of the speech, using the punctuation, and breathing at the ends of the lines allows the actor to stay in the moment--on the word--rather that thinking toward the end of the thought as happens when breathing grammatically. It allows me to be more in my body and less in my head!

"The text is doing me; it's not me doing the text."

4/13/06 Blackfriar's Return to the Forbidden Planet

PLAY: Return to the Forbidden Planet (mid-80’s Star Trek spoof (from B-movie) with Shakespeare text and 50’s & 60’s rock n’ roll worked in.
DAY/DATE/CURTAIN: Thursday, 4/13/06, 7:30 curtain (7:15 pre-show)
COMPANY: American Shakespeare Center (Shenandoah Shakes.)
DIRECTOR: Jim Warren
VENUE: Blackfriars Playhouse, Staunton, VA
HOUSE SIZE & TYPE: (see earler description) re-created Jacobean indoor playhouse; benches (front) pretty full; lower galleries half-full; stools on stage all occupied; galleries above probably empty; seemed to be a very large school group (high school).

NOTABLE ELEMENTS:
VISUAL: no sets beyond small black boxes stacked to create Captain’s chair, crew’s stations, laptops, etc. Assorted musical instruments.
PERFORMER/SPECTATOR RELATIONSHIP: very intimate; actors almost surrounded by audience; lots of interaction with audience members, including siting in laps, crossing to address aud. member, moving into benches and lower galleries, at one point climbing over wall separating gallery from stage to get at audience.
ACOUSTIC: lots of 50’s & 60’s rock n’ roll (revue-style, with songs justified by plot), sung and acted broadly and very entertainingly, entire cast (12?) playing different musical instruments. No amplification--all instruments acoustic.
TEMPORAL: performance moved at very brisk tempo building to spectacular end of 1st act. However, 2nd act seemed to drag quite a bit to me in comparison, with a very drawn-out ending and a climax that didn’t, quite. At least not for me. But the high-energy sense of fun was maintained throughout.
TEXTUAL: Generally based around plot of The Tempest (like the movie, I guess), but the text involved lines from lots of Shakespeare plays, with comic insertions & references. You didn’t need to recognize the lines to enjoy the play (and modern non-Shakespeare lines were there) but the more I recognized the more I enjoyed the cleverness of the writing.
OTHER: The pre-show was o.k. but not the company at it’s cleverest or funniest. The three characters who had the least business opened the show with the usual announcements done by an alien whose translator chip broke down--the other two translated her gibberish.

ACTING: Generally strong (in the presentational, show-biz-y style required). Very broad and comic. Sometimes seemed to be extremely effortful, but the sense of fun and silliness was so strong that I forgave a lot. All seemed to have a lot of confidence in what they were doing--in control of the style (pretty easy in this case). Really nice to see what seemed to be an older (40s?) actor playing Prospero character.

STAGING: Almost all the actors stayed on stage almost all the time, so the stage was full. It worked well; mainly stayed on the stage but used the theatre, too (see above). Staging of songs, in particular, was almost always clever and effective.

COSTUME: Star Trek-like uniforms throughout, except for Prospero (in standard long robe), Miranda (dressed as young girl trying at times to be sexy), and Ariel: silver all over, including makeup--because he was a robot--on roller skates with kind of a helmet but very expressive face showing.

OTHER GENERAL REACTIONS: Well, I guess I should have hated it but I loved it (especially when I thought they had created it themselves (forgetting that it was a Broadway play (British import?) fromthe 80’s. It was such a standard formula, in a way: the golden oldies review held together by a plot. But the writing was clever, the spoofing really fun, the singing good, the show tight (1st act, especially), and the audience so obviously enjoying themselves that it was just great. And the interplay with the audience was in the best SSE style (unlike the plays I’d seen there earlier in the spring). I’m still a little skeptical about the decision by the company (or Jim and Ralph) to do a Broadway-style show, but the show allowed them to show off their performance style and conventions in a different way, and it was Shakespeare-related (in a comic sense). I just hope they resist doing “Complete Works” (thought maybe they did it in earlier years).

4/4/06 A visit to Shakespeare Behind Bars

At 8:00 a.m. on Monday, April 3, I met Curt Tofteland, Artistic Director of the Kentucky Shakespeare Festival and of Shakespeare Behind Bars ("the only North American Shakespeare company contained within the walls of a medium security adult male prison") and Don Vish, board member/lawyer/photographer, at a Louisville Starbuck's. We drove to Luther Luckett Correctional Complex in LaGrange where I observed Curt lead a group of inmates in a two-hour workshop followed by a conversation between three of the inmates, Curt, Don, and me about what they do.

(For information: Shakespeare Behind Bars)

Just getting into Luther Luckett was instructive. Curt had prepared me by saying the most important thing to remember was that prisons are run exactly like the military ("times ten"), meaning that all decisions are referred upward and everything takes time and patience. As we approached the facility, I saw an enormous farm-like area with three clusters of buildings, each a prison. Fences, walls, barbed wire, concertina wire everywhere. We approached a barracade, similar to what you'd find on a military base. I'd previously filled out a simple form to get security clearance, and Curt (who had been coming here for eleven years) was wearing a security badge,but
cility nearby, built in the '20s). Inmates were standing or walking, all in khaki uniforms. We went into what turned out to be the chaplin's building, a small pleasant, carpeted collection of rooms, the largest of which served as a chapel and the location of the workshop. Four inmates were there to participate and they cleared a space and set chairs in a circle (two additional men later joined the group. Curt briefly introduced Don and me but the group got right down to work.

The men knew the routine. They lay on their backs in a circle with their feet up on chairs. Curt asked them to breathe, in through the nose, out through the mouth. He asked them to focus, to relax, to let go of any negative stuff that had been happening. Even at this initial point, I had the strong impression that these men were absolutely focused and that they were completely invested in this work, an impression which grew as I continued to observe.

Curt led the men, now a group of six, through simple vocal warm-ups consisting of sighs, falling sounds, breathing out the first line of the monologue they were working on, working through individual words of monologue, one breath at a time (all working simultaneously), then returning to the sigh and returning to simple breathing.

At that point, Curt started working with each actor individually on the first line of their monologue. They remained on their backs with their feet up as he moved around the room. He closely coached each actor through each word and phrase, saying at one point, "Find 'I', the internal man, riff on 'I' till you find 'I', don't manufacture, find it, own it. Yes. Yes!" He was coaching them to connect the meaning of the words to the breath. His attention was intense. He didn't let them get away with skipping anything. He offered encouragement but at this point not a great deal of praise. He moved relatively quickly from actor to actor, with a commanding demeanor: no nonsense. This was serious work. "The stakes are high on this word. Yes! Use the consonant. Find more 'L' in that 'will'. Feel the power of that final consonant? Yes. Yes! Don't leave 'me' outside, take 'me' inside. And frequently and most importantly: "Where does that word live? In the head, in the heart, in the core?"

Working with an actor on a Shylock speech, Curt paraphrases "many a time on the Rialto" and "you've said to me in the middle of the yard..." He continues coaching: "...quality of mercy. Where does 'mercy' come from? From God, from heaven. Put 'mercy' outside". . . "'I have borne it with a patient shrug'--you've got to own 'shrug'". . . "Find the 'r' in 'mercy' ". . . " 'sufference',
you've got to find where 'sufference' lives in you". . . "don't layer it, don't manufacture it" . . . "bring 'disgraced' out from the inside, not in from the outside. Yes. Yes!"

Always, he's making them find the personal connection to the word, to each word. He trained as a musician, and he tells them to "riff on a word where you need to riff." Also: "Use the verbs." "You can drop down in pitch but you can't let the breath down." "'And what is the reason?'--wait for an answer--'I am a Jew.'" "Can you feel the difference between 'gives' (warm, open, generous) and 'takes' (hard, grabbing)?" "Find those 't's in Richard's 'I'll hammer it out.' Yes. Yes!"

Curt doesn't praise work unless the praise is earned, but then he's generous. And when an actor gets frustrated: "Just breathe it out. Don't beat yourself up."

After working through lines with each actor (more than once), and while they are sitting on the floor, he asks them, "Any discoveries?" The responses are remarkable, not just for their perception but because they are offered thoughtfully, willingly, without any reticence but also without that eagerness to please that characterizes so many student responses. Of course, at least two of these actors have been working with Curt for years:
Breathing: everything is on the word.
Easier to speak prone--not so nervous (Curt's comment: Now that you've discovered that easiness, you know you can find it standing up.)
The sound is different prone, the resonators kick in.
The same word will have a different sound and a different meaning in a different phrase.
It's a natural voice. If we can just get out of our own way...
Curt's comments: "Every word lives somewhere, even though each word isn't of the same importance . . . Shakespeare's words are like notes of music . . . When you find truth for yourself, it's right for you--the same word (or phrase or speech) will have a different truth for someone else. There's no one right way, so you can work on the same speech as someone else and it will be different."
He doesn't let up, he keeps asking, "What else? Any other discoveries?"

(I wonder: Am I making more out of simple obvious observations, truisms really, just because of the context? Kind of an "Oh, wow, these guys are amazing" response just because of where they are and what they've done, whatever that might be? I hope not...well, sure, to a degree, but the context is central to what's going on.)

Curt instructs the actors to take a breath and stand up on the exhale, using all the breath. Then he leads a simple "Passing the Clap" exercise, saying that there's one overriding intention: four hands must make one sound. It's a good exercise: very simple, enjoyable, difficult. The tempo and rhythm change. Curt stops them to suggest moving simply, efficiently, staying in a relaxed state and working without too much effort. After a good, very fast session, one actor notes that "I've been doing this for years and it was never so good." Another notes that it moved too fast for thinking. Curt notes that, in acting, you have to be as intuitive with your lines as with the clap, you have to be in a relaxed state.

Another simple "zip, zap, zo" exercise. After each exercise, Curt asks for discoveries. They relate each exercise to working in a scene, receiving energy given to you.

Now one actor works on his Richard II soliloquy ("I have been studying...") which is resonant in this setting to say the least. He performs standing, not moving. Curt talks about the speech, the context, the character (He says later that he doesn't require them to read the play they are taking a speech from, though many actors do; some, in fact, are reading their way through all the plays.)

Curt mentions that the actor had earlier been layering a level of "I'm depressed" onto the speech, which causes the actor to interrupt his working to comment on the fact that that kind of "layering" is an unconscious pattern in his life, not just in acting this speech. This observation prompts a discussion about consciousness (Curt says he prefers "semi-conscious" to "unconscious" because we're all--even people who have committed terrible crimes, like Manson or Gacey--conscious on a certain level about what we are doing, and to say we're unconscious can register to some people as an excuse. The actor agrees because he says he's trying to no longer evade responsibility for what he does and has done.) The conversation includes references to reading and ideas that I'm not familiar with ("shadow" self?) and I wonder if this is something Curt has suggested, but I forget to ask him later. It's a remarkable conversation, and Curt lets it go on, which leads me to think that, for him, this kind of talk is the real point.

The actor easily moves right back into working on the speech out of this conversation, which is impressive in itself. After he works, another actor comments on how much more interesting it is to hear the person who is the actor (Hal, in this case) say "I have been studying..." than to hear Richard II say it.

Curt comments that SBB is about "becoming me", it's not about pretending.

He says that he thinks Shakespeare's words are the map, that you have to trust the Shakespeare knows what he's doing and follow the map, the words. He talks about humans as living in "four centers" (intellectual, spiritual, emotional, ??) and a question to ask is: In what center is this character conscious? This point obviously relates to his earlier coaching: "Where does the word live?"

As the actor continues working, Curt picks up on the earlier comment and instructs, "More Hal (less character)." The actor keeps working but finally stops himself, saying, "Now I'm acting." It's true, but the work has been very good.

Another actor (Leonard) works on Shylock's speech ("Signior Antonio..."). The work is impressive because the actor is so clearly in the moment. There's no rushing; he's totally focused and totally committed to every moment and to every choice he makes. He comments after he has done the whole speech, "That may have been acting, but it was fun!" This comment triggers talk about authenticity, acting, and actor's choices. Curt observes that, at some points in the speech, Shylock is obviously acting; that the actor made the choice to go broad at those points and that, through his commitment, he made it work--but other choices are possible. He says that he sees the director's role is to point out alternatives to the actor but that it's the actor who chooses what to do and who takes responsibility for that choice.

By this point, three of the actors have had to leave to go to their jobs or other classes. The six of us who are left go into a room to talk. (As we're putting the chairs away, Leonard talks to me about reading Measure for Measure, about how he thinks Angelo is doing more than just propositioning Isabella, that he may also be giving her an ethical test, placing her in that position to see what she'll do (parallel to Vincento/Angelo?). It's a very astute, interesting, provocative point that I'll continue to think about.) Much of the talk recapitulates what has been said in the workshop: We talk about focus and commitment, using the words. I didn't take notes so I've lost much of the conversation, but it was mostly actor-talk, not prison-talk. I realize that I'm thinking about these men as actors, and as very good, very serious actors. One of them has been with the group for all eleven years, and had some previous acting experience; another has been with Curt for six or seven years, and had even more (professional?) training before he was incarcerated. The third was sort of "stuck into" Comedy of Errors last fall and has no previous experience. All three are obviously extremely intelligent and articulate.

Getting out of the institution is much simpler than getting in (unlike the case for the actors we have just left). Curt, Don, and I go to a restaurant for lunch and an hour's conversation. I don't take notes (dammit), but these are some points I remember:

Choosing and casting the plays: The actors do it. Curt may suggest a play or a few plays, but he gives them a deadline by which they must decide (and no, no play is off limits or not doable). Somehow, they decide among themselves who will play which role, though there are also stories about actors coming to Curt to say they want to play a particular role.

A story Curt told which connects casting to the issue of playing woman: Curt had been working with an actor who said, "Curt, I love you, but you ain't never going to get me to play a woman." Curt said, "Well, I hope and I'll bet that at some point you're going to be ready and want to play a woman," but the actor said, "No way." Later, they chose to put on Othello, and an actor with an almost unimaginably strong connection to the role chose to play Othello. This same actor who had refused ever to play a woman came to Curt and said that he wanted to play Desdemona. When Curt asked what had changed his mind, he said that his buddy was going to play Othello, that he knew what he was going to go through doing that role, and that he wanted to be there for him.

Curt says he works in exactly the same way with undergrads, professional actors, and the prisoners. Sometimes the prison actors will share experiences with their professional counterparts: "Does he make you do that?" "Yeah, he does." "Me, too!"

Trust: Yes, you have to earn their trust. One way he does it, paradoxically, is to tell them at the outset that he's going to believe what they tell him, to trust them (which is opposite to the assumption the entire prison structure is predicated upon), but that he'll know if they lie. I think because the work is all about looking for authenticity, it becomes rapidly apparent when a prisoner isn't willing to to be truthful.

Theatre and therapy: Curt said that if he hadn't gone into theatre he'd probably be a therapist, and that he has a good deal of training in that area. So it seems he isn't afraid--and invites--the transition. And from what I say, he's very authoritative about acting and about emotional/spiritual issues. For him, the essential point is self-transformation through acting. That's what it's all about, and he believes that it really can happen.

How does SBB affect Curt's other work? Totally (but then the conversation went somewhere else so we didn't get specific). How does he rank it in terms of importance? It's all important to him, but he could live without doing the other stuff--not without doing SBB. He's most interested in doing plays with SBB that he wouldn't get a chance to direct otherwise (Timon, Pericles, Winter's Tale, etc.), but again, the actors decide.

Who inspires him, whose work does he admire? Peter Brook, Peter Hall (and his son), Shenandoah Shakespeare (he's directed for them). He's close to Tina Packer. Admires Agnes Wilcox of Prison Performing Arts in St. Louis (who did the five-year Hamlet project). Can't remember who else we discussed. We agreed that anything done well can be exciting.
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That's all for now. More reflection to follow.