Ouroboros - Impressions, Thoughts.

Here are some considerations (in no particular order, posed as questions). What was that very first moment in your life when you felt the desire/need/excitement to modify or change your looks, your body? Example, young girl putting on lipstick. What is it about the seemingly spontaneous blossoming of a flower that is so magical? What are the attributes and features of creativity? When do you purposely make a mess of something only to end up with a work of art? What factor might creativity play in our relationships with one another throughout our lives, or our relationship with the natural world, the world we live in? If you look closely at a caterpillar what do you actually see or imagine? Why do we admire butterflies and hate cockroaches? These were some of the depictions in Ouroboros, presented at Live Theatre Workshop's Etcetera. I saw the performance on Sunday eve past. But before I talk further about that I have to have my brief say about three things which I don't like, a couple of recent trends and activities in theatre and a relic of the past. Ouroboros, this is not at your expense, just on your time so to speak. I haaaattttteeee pre-curtain announcements. But if you have to say something, say it in the foyer. All the ticket selling, turn off your phones, exits, etc, it is too much for an "old-timer" like myself and as an artist I think it goes wholly against the grain of having spectators step inside of a performance space. I hhhaaaattteee notes in the program. Not as much as pre-curtain announcements because I usually don't read them anyway. But what is the point? I say let the work on the stage just be. I'm anti-cleverness, anti-intellectualism, anti-everyone was great to work with, anti-all program notes. I haattteee blackness in the theatre. Black curtains, black costumes, black scenery, etc. If there is one thing that I regret about Stanislavsky/Meyerhold it is their invention of the black box theatre and all it's trappings of blackness. There, all done. That said and those aside, I may yet need to make mention of the development of Ouroboros - the what, when, where, how and why of it. But not yet. The first craft element that I noticed as a spectator in this performance was the music, which played throughout, as a recorded track. It was dominant and prevalent in setting the mood and tempo for what happened on stage. In this regard, the performance seemed much like a traditional dance performance, but at times it had "un-traditional" (as opposed to non-traditional) movements and activities happening. There was a theme that unfolded throughout, although there was an inconsistency to the logic of the events - or maybe I should say I could not discern any logic in the events. And by this I am referring to stage logic - not everyday ordinary logic. And yet there was a certain charm overall to the performance which I found to be refreshing and exciting. Youth abounded. And given that there were moments of genuinely enthusiastic and optimistic creation as well as moments of the worst kind of generalized energy and excitement that happens on stage. But! We suffer growing pains gladly to get eventually to the beauty of our art. And to get to the heart of the matter now. This was a production that was daring in its origin - even if that "dare" ness didn't always make it into the work itself. And it is commendable in many respects and I would be at fault not to mention some of them. Ouroboros was crafted and devised by five students from the University of Arizona, working together as a creative unit. They were "assisted" perhaps by Matt Walley as Director and Angela Horchem is listed as a "creative collaborator." But no doubt the bulk of the content and the actual activities we saw on stage were a result of the five students and their collaborative process. From nothing, using almost nothing, came Ouroboros, this series of interesting actions and human behaviors, depictions of the mind, feelings, and sensations of these five young people and their collective perspective on life. Where does the sidewalk end? Where does childhood stop and adulthood emerge? When do we change from having that fascination with nature to fighting against nature itself? What is funny, what is important, what is crap, what is sex, what is simplicity and what has any meaning at all? When do we learn who we are and what are bodies do and what happens to them over time? Consciously or unconsciously the students provoked these questions in the moment. Or at least gave them some kind of depiction set to music. Look into the final performances this week and go!

Physical Theatre part 3 - Losing Essence

We don’t have directors who work creatively with actors and we don’t have actors who work creatively with playwrights and we don’t have playwrights who work creatively with designers and we don’t have designers who work creatively with directors….and so it goes, around and around. Now we do all know how to behave and get along (most of the time) and figure out together things that “work.” And we put those things that “work” onstage for the spectators to see. But out of this “working” environment periodically comes the actor or director who does not feel creative. And so they go on a quest for more creative means. Many go off and devise their own work, write their own plays, their own performances, make their own props, create their own particular space in which to perform. Some go so far as to make attempts to classify and organize a system or way of learning and creating stage art. Some see the stage as the empire and domain of the playwright (Playwright as God). Some see the stage as the empire and domain of the director (must have a grand vision and concept). Some see the stage as the empire and domain of the Storyteller (Actor who speaks words). And these ways of thinking shape how and what they organize as their way of working, as their method of creativity. All totally self-serving of course. The director/choreographer who envisions the stage as their domain invents ideas that make it so - such as “Viewpoints.” Here is technique that has little or nothing to do with the creative process of acting but some (or a lot) to do with generally making and keeping order on the stage. Similar self-serving approaches have been or are being invented (as we speak) for each of the ways that the world of the stage is imagined. Actors who understand that the stage is their domain but who don’t understand the creative process of the actor (or who don’t want to accept it for what it is) also invent a myriad of things to substantiate their view or belief. Let’s take Michael Chekhov as an example here. And so the possibilities and combinations of people feeling less than creative and their point of view about the stage gives us all manner of “techniques” and makes a muck out of what is creative and how creativity unfolds on stage. What is most often lost in these “techniques” is the human factor - the biological apparatus, the body that thinks and feels and desires and moves and senses and is - the one that has knowledge and awareness of past, present and future. To be fair, some techniques take up parts or a part of this notion. Movement but not feeling. Thought but not Sensation. And when it comes to the most burning of all questions for the actor and creativity, the fusion of the fiction and make believe of the stage with the very real and immediate in this very moment living and breathing person of the actor, what do we get? Most often the answer is a game of some sort, or the notion to simply “play like a child.” While those concepts may have their time and place and reason on occasion, they do not get at the core of the actors work. No, they just don’t. Nope, nope, nope. I’m shaking my head a hundred times. And so it comes down to the fact that if the essence of our art is not addressed in our training or in our application via our techniques, then its not even like we are leaving it to chance come eight o’clock performance time, its more like we are discouraging it and manipulating ourselves further away from its creative possibilities.

Physical Theatre Continuing Discussion - short post

If you were lucky enough to see Odin Teatret’s production of Anderson’s Dream, especially one of the earlier more inspired performances, you saw rare genius - a once in a lifetime kind of production. It was the intersection of Meyerhold and Grotowski, made actual with the brilliance of Eugenio Barba and the actors of Odin Teatret. The production had a certain “unpleasantness” for the spectators, which is a trademark of much of Odin’s work. And of course I mean that in a good way! It grates on you as it goes. It surprises you, confuses you. It shakes your nerves, disturbs, in a very literal way. All the while being completely captivating. To sum it up - the production was alive physically in a way that shook the senses - a biological phenomenon unfolding in front of you. Everything Brecht wished he could be and more. So if there is a hallmark or benchmark of modern “Physical Theatre” then I would place it squarely at the point of Anderson’s Dream. And so we must ask, what were they working with and how, to craft this production? Without going into minute detail and description we could just say actions, logic, sensation, thought, etc. But the key is that they were rendered in a way that was pulsating, the senses were activated, highly, onstage and off. How else to distinguish? In lesser work, performers may believe that a physical gesture alone, done with a certain tact or precision will alone convey the immediacy of the moment and the full implication of the event. What they miss is the need or rather that full experience of a gesture or physical action which has immediate biological and sensual repercussions on both themselves and on the spectators, and this is only accomplished by including specific thought, sensation, awareness and intention. Only then do you get jumping off points for the spontaneity of the creative subconscious and the driving, living impulses that makes theatre distinct from other presentational arts. Without that specific kind of spontaneity the world of the stage becomes a kind of manipulative drudgery.

"Physical Theatre" - Part One

Physical Theatre. What is this? The term has become trendy in Academic circles and with people who are young or looking for alternatives to the status quo. To see it or hear it explained generally might be to hear it described as "movement based." But there is much, much, much, to unpack and to find if we are going to get at a more detailed and real answer. Let the fun begin. First of all, who do we have to thank (or curse) for this "concept?" Let's begin with Grotowski. When Grotowski returned to Poland after a year of study in Moscow, he held out the idea of a Studio Theatre with it's potential for power based squarely on the activities of the actors. In Grotowski's head also was Stanislavsky's ideas on Improvisation and Active Analysis. Now for Stanislavsky that work included the quest for the actor to return to actual and real biological function within or under the specific conditions of the stage. Mind you, that does not refer to or indicate a desire for a style of theatre, i.e. "realism" or "naturalism" but rather refers to what Stanislavsky knew was the central basis of theatrical art - the ability of the actor to literally process the fiction of the stage through his or her body and biological means, fully, expressively. Grotowski took Stanislavsky's notion of this, which in part was called the "Action" of the actor. And for Grotowski the work and the talk begin to be about "Physical Actions." His questions to himself and to his actors was what constitutes a "physical action," one that produces a real and true biological response in the actor (and in the spectator)? How could they produce them, how would they identify their authenticity? And then how could they arrange them logically in sequence? It came down to this - the actor must somehow experience or have a full-fledged biological event take place for them, feeling, sensing, aware, etc, and that in turn must alter or change the biological status of the spectator. The trick or danger for the actor was not to become completely manipulative to ones self - but rather allow that thing which Stanislavsky called Affective Memory and that thing called Creative Unconscious to come to fruition and to guide. If that happened, the action was lifted from the "mundane" and became "theatrical" or alive, with biological implications set in motion. Without human biological experience you have no event and no theatre. And so you now-a-days you might hear the phrase or saying "If it's not physical, it's not theatre." This is, or was originally, reference to this concept. -TO BE CONTINUED.

Taking it out for a ride - Night Heron.

Last night was the first real go at "unleashing" what has been building up throughout the thought and rehearsal process. Vahktangov said the results of a rehearsal are found in the next rehearsal, and so on and so on. Last night brought out our first real organic creativity, and there was some fascinating stuff. The Night Heron is not an unusual play in its make up and structure. But it is dense and the details are many. And those details finally begin emerging for us last night.

Night Heron More

Mr. Jez Butterworth put together a very interesting and completely vague (intentionally so) script when he wrote The Night Heron. The only thing that I can tell you for sure at this point in time is that our production will be compelling. The good news is that we have done a hell of a lot of work uncovering the events of the play and figuring out what the heck is going on, in detail. The other good news is that now we have a hell of a lot more work to do. At this point some scenes are great fun, and others I still dread. As for the "main event" of the play for Jess, it has to either be the moment of speaking for himself in his defense or the moment just after of taking blame for everything gone wrong. We have traced and researched and talked about all the little particulars, words, phrases, ideas, events, places, people, etc. We have discussed the large metaphors and the big ideas. And we have discussed clear simple notions of who these people are and what they are doing. We have brutally probed the play. And of course we are trying to find ways to properly render it on the stage.

Many Things Are Difficult

Many of things are difficult about working on this role in The Night Heron, not the least of which is trying to get the dialect right. In this day and age you can listen to radio broadcasts, YouTube, Podcasts, etc, in order to hear and learn a dialect. That sure makes it easier, but never-the-less I always have trouble with the sounds, the rhythm. Baby steps, baby steps.

MixTape III - a little about Sorrow

There was a piece performed in Mixtape by Angela entitled "Sorrow." Now I hold some inside information in regards to the making of this piece, fortunate man that I am. But there is a premise in it of memories (including specific sounds in this case) which exist in the body. It is an incredibly interesting and unusual piece of performance. And those who know me will recognize in advance what I am likely more to say about it. So I won't rush it! Ah, yes, yes, yes, the foundation, the basis, of theatrical art, its existence, the very thing that distinguishes it from other arts - personal experience, existing as memory, manifested in theatrical form by the actor, with his or her self/body as the means of expression, taking on its very own new immediate life. Yes, this is theatre. But in "Sorrow" it is somewhat of an abstracted form. We hear the associated sounds in the literal, although many are not necessarily recognizable. And the relationships of the sounds themselves to each other is not identifiable. In other words we are not hearing a progression of sounds that may exist at a carnival for example or at a sporting event or on a walk near the ocean. The mask that Angela wears in the presentation of this piece is prominent, powerful, and painted a strong yellow. It is also distinctly sorrowful. A performer of lesser ilk might have opted to try and convey the premise, thereby making it novel and the object of the spectators muse. Angela worked to just let it be, a kind of raw expression wrought from the body, with individual sounds rising and then coming up together in two, three or more. It is not an easy piece, for performer or for spectator. And yet it is a goldmine. As a performer Angela has a powerful and agile body. But if you asked me to explain the kind of movements and gestures she made in this piece to give it life I would have difficulty, great difficulty. She sat on a little stool, covered by the mask, a long dress, (a shawl once), bare hands, bare feet. And she made little movements, here and there, arm, torso, head, leg, foot, hip, hand, each of which seemed all at once painful and joyful. I don't know. Think birth. Or cocoon hatching, or some unusual life-giving physical event. At times those events look senseless, unattractive or just pitiful. Yet we know what they produce. Along the way we experience those "OMG is this child ever going to be born!" moments. And we find calming moments, gracious moments, grating moments, confusion... and something we can only feel, not say, or represent.

Mixtape Post Number II

We can and do experience Mixtape via the individual works and via its whole. We can appreciate and talk about and understand its pieces and/or its overall effect. But I must be careful. By overall effect I do not mean the sum of its pieces. They don't add up that way. Perhaps I mean something like general overall set-up and premise vs each topical episode. Whatever the terms or descriptions you should know that I mean them as two unique concepts, related but not always influencing each other. One one hand we have Matt Walley and Angela Horchem who have come to the stage to perform. On the other hand we have the individual works themselves that they actually show us. No matter how much some performers might want to strip away personality and personal identity from their work (and I'm not implying that Matt and Angela do) they can never, ever, ever, ever, in a hundred thousand million years make that happen. It is worldly impossible. Personality is one-third of the deal which the spectators get. You can't make it go away. And the sooner many actors realize, accept, and embrace this fact, the better they will be. And so in this overall effect I see Angela (female she is) cleaning, working, feeling, thinking, suffering, busy, sometimes frantic, changing, I see Matt (male he is) looking for help, wanting sympathy, joking around, hoping, rarely changing. Not to sound stereotypical, but there it is in front of us. And as spectators we identify, understand and appreciate the dichotomy. It is one part of human nature made evident to us in this show, and also one of the "easier" parts of the show to take in intellectually.

Mixtape post part I

Back to Mixtape! I had a great time going to see this show. I found the whole experience lovely on many levels - not the least of which was feeling like part of a theatre community, which was now taking a leap forward in its growth, expansion, creativity and originality. I yearn for new plays, new works. I want to hear and experience signature "voices" that grow out of this time and place, and know of the inspiration found in the present, from among friends and family and co-workers and supporters of our theatre community. I want to see varying shapes and sizes and forms and constructs, all wrought from the collective work and individual talents gathered around here. And so the emergence of Mixtape was a bright signal, at least in my mind. It rolled out with ambition, determination and happiness, full of silly thank-god seemingly meaningless and amateurish moments mixed freely with these deeply profound difficult impossible attempts at revelation. But let me be clear. I am not being a cheerleader for a theatrical experience of "experimentation" or "good try." Too much was right-on for that to be the case. Rather I am emphasizing the range and bravado and the scope of life from which the performers drew the material of their creativity - nothing too sacred, nothing too base, everything in. And so the billing of the performance, it subtitle, "Physical. Variety. Show." held true. Physical was the bodies in a consciously active state of expression - emphasis on the conscious part. Variety was the anything goes framework. Show was the vigor and the obvious sense of performers and spectators tied together in this one. I loved it. And I will be writing more. And I can't wait.

MixTape Intro

I'm overdue to write about Mixtape at Live Theatre Workshop Etcetera Series. This is a show performed by Theatre3, featuring Angela Horchem and Matt Walley. Let it be said that I am partial to the work of Angela and Matt. I have my reasons and they are good ones. I may tell you about them along the way, but for now I have a short list of random thoughts and ideas to express - some directly related to Mixtape, some a few degrees of separation away, and others that are probably temporary manifestations in my mind. I will get to Mixtape starting in my next post but I need these few preliminaries for starters. O.K. here goes... British Theatre wants to be all intellectually talky. ("Its all in the words, love."). Italian Theatre is all over-the-top dramatic, emoting and buffoonery. French Theatre wants to be all silent and profound. They are like "oooh, Ges -ture, Ges-ture!" Russian Theatre tries to be a walking soul. German Theatre is really politics. American Theatre wants to be a social cause. And the rest of the world is just masks and ritual and things like that. All true enough on some level. Right? I hhhhhaaaattttteee the performance space at Live Theatre Workshop! It's always cold. It's dingy. Claustrophobic. Painted life-sucking black. The psychic energy is shaky at best. They sell candy in the lobby. Clowns disturb me. How difficult is joy to manifest in theatre performance? It's difficult. Very difficult. What constitutes "Silence" in theatre performance? My mind is clearer already!

Coming along slowly and personally now

I've been busy trying to piece together and understand the series of events that make up the actual play on the stage. And of course along with that comes the question of what is my character doing? What is the action, as we like to say? In the rehearsal room we have had the dicsussions of the essential facts and circumstances and we are working out the general physical world and movement of the play. We are "inside" the parameters and suggestions of the written script. The characters actions slowly get put in place, behaviorally, pieced together logically, in detail. I list them out or tell them to myself in the narrative. For example," I walk in, listening for sounds outside. I set down my notes and pick up the penny flute. My mind is thinking about whether or not I want to be alone, and trying not to think of the possibility of being beaten again. I try to play a song on the recorder, almost by habit. I feel pain in my mouth, a small taste of blood. A sigh hurts my broken ribs, pain. I set the recorder down and go to the sink to rinse my mouth out. I am listening to the recordings that I have made, tapedeck playing. I feel anxious. I rinse my mouth, trying to sooth myself and relax. I go back to the table. I turn off the tapedeck. I sit down." This "discription" of behavior, this narrative, eventually becomes my personal "script" or "text" you might say. Mine are always soaked in activities of the senses, thoughts, and images in the mind. What I create there, in those realms, should give rise to the words provided to my character by the playwright. The process of creating this working "text" for myself is slow, detailed, and full of trial and error. As I am working on it, I begin to develop an artistic point of view so to speak - a kind of general sense of purpose about the kind character I am making and why. I begin to harbor hopes and aspirations about what I might be able to artistically achieve and convey to the spectators. By now I have taken in the playwrights work pretty fully, and have been earnest in appreciating and trying to understand it. It's the beginning of melding my own creativity in with it now. It's personal. Very, very personal. On many levels. Mind you, this doesn't imply or mean private or unspeakable or something like that. It just means connected and intentionally so - having a stake or desire in what I am doing. I want a character that is enjoyable and complex and meaningful, for myself and for the spectators. And so this is how I am proceeding

Beginning to look for the Main Event of the character

The burning question now is what is the "main event" of the play for Jess. To begin to determine this, I have to put together the sequence of events that actually make up the play that the spectators will see. Off hand there are a couple of events that are candidates for the main event, the most important thing that happens, the change that occurs, the character dealing with the totality of his circumstances in some profound and meaningful way. In the meantime, I took some time to read some reviews both of the London and the New York production. Now, Jez Butterworth radically altered the character of Jess, rewriting for the New York production. Its almost a different man. The change of the script is drastic. More to that later in another post perhaps. However, whether the London or the New York script, both of which I have read and studied, I have to wonder about the reviews and what they say. Either the perception of the reviewers was unusual or the productions themselves emphasized some things that were not characteristic of the actual script. Maybe a combination of the two, I don't know. But either way the reviews almost seem like they are talking about a different set of circumstances, almost a different play. And so, I keep on working on the facts and the events and their logic.

initiating event

My posts are slightly behind the actual rehearsal schedule...but that is o.k. The intent of my analysis is to eventually pinpoint what my character is doing, thinking, feeling, wanting, moment by moment throughout the play. In doing this, I tend to avoid some common phrases and terminology. Not that they are bad. I just don't use them. For example "character arc." And although this is not a purely cold intellectual effort I am trying to avoid comparisons and assumptions at this point, things such as "oh, this character is like my uncle john" or "this character reminds me of those people who always...." And I am especially avoiding metaphors or summations at this point. I am repeating this, having said it in earlier posts, but its importance bears that. So onward. To the narrative of events now I can add other pieces of information contained in the script. Other characters describe my character in past events as "having been full of beans, busy organizing." Or they describe the effects of something my character has done, such as creating this incredible garden. The events and descriptions listed therefore in the script give rise to certain characteristics of personality perhaps - an energetic man, well organized, meticulous, detailed and caring. He is mentioned and seen as a man who can recite long passages of the old testament by heart. He remembers names and details of places, things, people, etc. So we can imagine he pays great attention and/or his mind is sharp and clear. We can imagine that he is a patient man, as many of the tasks and events to which he was involved would require such a quality. We know according to the script that the character of Warren Lee teased and tormented Jess in mean and cruel ways for several months before Jess finally broke, his patience exasperated, and he slapped Warren Lee. This slap, the initiating event to this series of events that eventually becomes this play, now begins to have a context. Slapping this boy sends Jess' life in a completely different and unexpected direction. But I can begin to imagine and understand how "out of character" this action is. I can put it in context with everything else and I can wonder how it felt for him in that very moment. Perhaps the action surprised even himself. Did he regret it immediately afterward? No doubt he now has many thoughts and feelings associated with this event, complex and deep. But here now I have my basis, a general understanding of the initiating event of the play.

Here's a listing of the events referenced in the script which take place prior to the beginning of the events of the play itself. You won't know the events if you are not familiar with the script,but the thing to take away from it is that I am not putting any interpretation on them yet. Also this list is specific to the character of Jess, meaning that there are other events referenced in the script which make up the narrative of the entire play which I am leaving off for now. 1. Jess helps pick the annual carnival queen and rides of a parade float with the Mayor and the queen, Jane Livingstone. 2. Dougal has a work accident (which leads eventually to a monetary settlement in his favor). 3. Jess is working to save the quince tree when Floyd's boy comes looking for his dad. Jess looks after the boy in the cold and dark. 4.Joins in working with Dougal and is given the homework of making an Iconostasis, which he does. 4. A Night Heron bird is reported spotted in the region. 5. Jess slaps Warren on the face. Incident is reported in the papers. 6. Jess is fired from his job. 7. Dougal is leafleting on Jess' behalf. 8. Floyd's boy incident becomes known rumor. 9. Jess is beaten up on the Marsh Road at night. 10. Receives his Dole money. 11. Begins making tapes for Dougal. That is a chronological order, give or take a couple of them as the information available in the script which references them is brief. But that is basically it. Just the facts ma'am. Now taking those and the other events referenced in the script I can tell the narrative to myself (and others)fully in its logical sequence. Each of these events will be used imaginatively later on but the question to seek and answer now is which one of these events is key to setting in motion the events of the play itself? My current answer is the slap with Warren. That sets off a chain reaction of things which make for a sudden and profound change in Jess' situation, his life. It also matches up with the final event which the audience sees from him when he kisses the other character on the cheek. Slap to the cheek. Kiss to the cheek. Key events.

The Night Heron part two

Having a clear grasp of the series of events that lead up to and continue through the play, allows me to begin to think “imaginatively” or perhaps better said “creatively” about the play and the character. I can review this story, this series of events, over and over in my mind, eventually filling in further details as I do, all based upon things said or done in the script itself. I know the time, the place, and the conditions of each series of events that are referenced. I feel like the logic of the progression of events is sound. So then I start to ask myself the question “what would it be like to be in that situation?” Now here’s the catch. I am an actor, and therefore my “answers” to that question have to manifest themselves in behavior, not in description. So while yes I can explain to myself what each situation may be like, and while its not unhelpful for me to do so as an actor, it doesn’t really set the conditions for my body to learn what it needs to learn in order to “get it” and do what it needs to do on stage in the moment of performance. As an actor, I have to have thought and speech and movement and feeling and intention all rooted in these events, these experiences. And having been educated, trained, and artistically tempered in a particular way, I don’t want my final rendition to be merely natural like behavior that is truthfully based in those experiences, but rather beyond that I want it to be a clear and precise poetic expression of the ideas of the play as they exist living and breathing in this character’s actions. So how do I begin to answer the question “what would it be like to be in that situation?” I search and explore the situations biologically - with my senses, and I allow a certain amount of free association to arise as I do. I let my body start to find impulses and thoughts and movements and sensations based on being in those situations. I don’t (or try not to) judge the behavior but rather I try to allow my instincts to work unhinged. Mind you, this is a very disciplined approach. This is not an anything goes way. The parameters are strict and tight. Think mustard seed. But with this work that little bit of faith in the situation or rather my body’s responses to the situations is established. Actor. Behavior. Action. The work continues.

Working on The Night Heron

Working on the role of Jess Wattmore in the play The Night Heron, by Jez Butterworth, at the Rogue Theatre. Beginning work - tracing the line of action, trying to articulate and understand the sequence of events that are referenced in the script. Going one by one to get the time and place and basic result of each one. (Side question - why on God's green earth do modern playwrights, those of the 90's and 2K's, like to leave things so "mysterious," so two-sided?). I need to be able to tell the entire story alluded to in the script to myself in order to begin to make sense of the action that will actually occur on stage. This is a process of coolly examining the facts and circumstances as presented by the script. I am not imagining or inventing or adding to what the playwright has offered. Take what is offered and see if the logic follows itself. If it doesn't make sense on the first try, reread and rethink. Don't make things up in an attempt to understand events individually and don't try to shape them to fit personal opinion or wish-fantasy. Try to get the whole. If the script is well written, the logic of events works out, including disruptions. So for example, based on what the script of The Night Heron says I can begin to tell myself a basic story about Jess Wattmore, in context with the basic story of the entire play. "Jess is working as a gardener at Cambridge. He is working in the quince tree when Floyd Fowler's boy comes around, etc. Jess is with the Scouts when he slaps one of them. The story of it comes out in the newspaper. Jess gets dismissed from his job. Jess starts helping, working with Dougall (who had earlier been employed with Cambridge also, etc). Something about Floyd's Fowler's boy comes out, accusations. Jess is out on the road at night and gets beat up." That's the idea...but I'm leaving out some details as a matter of writing here. I don't leave them out in my head though. Until I can tell the story of the play and the story of Jess Wattmore in detail to myself I won't be ready to go on to other work.