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.