The Return to Life Under the Specific and Peculiar Conditions of the Stage

Here is the first part of a short introduction/explanation I wrote to accompany the recent series of work in Actor's Gymnasium which we called "Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Space and Time, a natural and empirical approach to pre-expressive training and creative presence." It was a long fancy title that we put forth to call attention to what we think of as the ecological-biological conditions of the stage, and our simple analytical process that accompanies that, the kind of thinking that is just trying to "put two and two together." This is just the first page or so but it gives you the basic sense. I hope. Enjoy.


Stanislavsky’s Notion – Return to Life.

Stanislavsky’s first book intended specifically for actors is entitled “The Work of the Actor on Oneself.” The book is divided into two sections: Part One is “The Work on Oneself in the Process of Experiencing.” Part Two is “The Work on Oneself in the Process of Embodying.” Together, these form a suggestion of biological basis for an actor’s work on the stage.
The “Process of Experiencing” implies that under the conditions of the stage, a person (an actor) has a tendency to go into a kind of artificial behavior, perhaps something copied, or perhaps a cliché understanding of a particular kind of behavior, or perhaps mere nervousness or getting carried away begins to dominate the impulses of behavior. To remedy this, Stanislavsky suggests a kind of “return to life” within the imaginary circumstances and world of the stage – a kind of “as if” it were true reality, where the person’s (the actor’s) biological being functions as it normally would with full sense and awareness.
The “process of embodying” suggests that once an actor’s biological experiences are functioning, they then must have a particular kind of actualization, different from real life perhaps, in order to meet the specific demands required by the stage – and its accompanying group of spectators. It’s not enough for the actor to merely begin to experience, he/she must actualize the experience a way that is self motivating, inspiring and comfortable, and in such as way so as to be expressive for the spectators.
In order to help create this “return to life,” Stanislavsky suggested that the actor had to create a series of commands between the mind and body which replace the daily influences of the mind and body – thereby separating the fiction of the stage from literal reality. The created series of commands function as a substitution set which prompts the actor’s behavior on the stage. When the mind-body is reacting fully to this substitution set of commands, it is said that the actor is organic.
Stanislavsky knew there were certain qualities which could aid the actor in this quest of organicity. Among those qualities was a sense of relaxation, concentration, and imagination. To develop those qualities, Stanislavsky invented a series of exercises meant to give the actor awareness and control over their breathing, their thoughts, sensory awareness and movements.
Once an actor achieved a level where he/she could accomplish this organic experiencing–embodying process within the particular conditions of the stage, Stanislavsky moved the actor on to his next set of ideas which are contained in the book “The Work of the Actor on the Role.” Here is where the peculiar creative nature of acting kicks in fully. Stanislavsky knew that there was/is a subconscious process which fuses the fiction of a play, the unreal, with the reality of the actor, his or her total being, their talent. Stanislavsky named this creative phenomenon for the actor “Affective Memory.” His ideas contained in “The Work of the Actor on Oneself” are meant ultimately to be a conscious approach leading to the activation of the subconscious in the creative process. Or another way of saying it is “placing the subconscious under direct orders from the conscious.”

Theatre breaking out all over Tucson!

I would guess that everyone has noticed the absolute explosion of theatrical activity in Tucson in the last two - three years. Its fantastic! There are your standard productions, seasonal or not, by several companies, old and new. There are "late night" productions, lunch time drama productions, new play reading series, open stage nights, classes of all kind and probably other stuff I'm not hip to. As well as new groups and works in the planning stages. (And let's not forget those upcoming Stanislavsky presentations).

Its reminiscent of the early nineties when aka theatre, Tucson Art Theatre, One in Ten Theatre, Bloodhut Productions, Shanike Theatre, Barbea Williams Performance Company, Catalina Players, Old Pueblo Playwrights and others teamed with Arizona Theatre Company, Invisible Theatre, Borderlands Theatre and still others to form the Tucson Theatre Alliance. The Alliance began as a somewhat informal monthly gathering of theatre artists to discuss and/or take action on common ground, problems and successes. Later on it became a formal entity and continued a couple of years until the idea and desire came forth to "merge" with the State Alliance. After that I personally lost track. The existence of the Tucson Theatre Alliance at that time though is indicative of the activity that was happening then - exciting and diverse in its intent and format.

The current explosion of activity is a combination of theatre artists who have worked here in Tucson a long time, younger students and recent "immigrants from abroad." In the nineties we fretted over not having the proper space in which to perform. This group just says hey, if I can't have it at eight PM, I'll take it at eleven PM or noontime, or Monday night for that matter. I like that attitude! (Personally I can't act in the daylight or after 9pm hardly. Thats why I was always good in the first acts and not so good in second acts, terrible in matinees). There are actors and directors at work as we speak readying a work for production somewhere, somehow.

One thing I would personally love to see is more outdoor or street activity, festivals, parades, and bartered performances. I'm not talking about "happenings" or something like that. I mean a well rehearsed, produced and carried out event - could be improvisational or not, but should be just plain interesting. Day of the Dead Festival approaches this - is this - on a good scale. Hopefully it won't become too comercialized. I want to see people on giant stilts walking around, in big costumes, or commedia players in the courtyard at the Temple of Music and Art. I want to see The Cherry Orchard performed in the courtyard of the Tucson Museum of Art (think metaphorically of the Cherry Orchard as our local historic barrios - but don't set the play like it takes place in Tucson please). I want to see a new play festival produced all in "found" spaces, all within short walking distance of one another. I want a Stanislavsky Conference. I want an international exchange conference. I want plays in multiple languages or made up languages. I want performers strolling down the Rillito while spectators stand along the banks. I want the Southside Players, whoever and wherever they are, to emerge with some dynamic and aggressive performances - on the southside of Town! Is this too much to ask?

Those longings aside, it is indeed a great time to be a spectator in Tucson!

Comments

The comment link is alive and well and open on this blog. I take suggestions, questions, general or specific thoughts on a post. Love it, hate it, don't care. As long as it holds to the overall context - send it on!

Lessons from Aldo

Aldo Leopold, conservationist and environmental scholar is the author of the classic book A Sand County Almanac, and sketches here and there. He is renowned for his precedent setting ideas in land ethics and ecological consciousness. A Sand County Almanac is a collection of essays, many set in or about his Wisconsin farm, and some concerned with other locations, such as Arizona and the Colorado River Delta. As a young man, Leopold set out for himself some questions, some challenges - to fight mediocrity and hypocrisy, to increase enthusiasm and wisdom, to listen to others opinions, and to protect the natural world. The question that Leopold ultimately posed to himself and others over and over was a simple one. "How do we live on the land without spoiling it?"

Here today I borrow Aldo Leopold's question and pose it thusly; "How do we act on the stage without spoiling it? It presupposes there is something to possibly be spoiled. Yet we only have to recall Peter Brook's notion of the empy space or Jean Louis Barrault's silence of the stage to imagine it pristine. There is something special or captivating about a well layed stage, the potential in its stillness, crisp and ready. Shined and polished, clean and healthy looking, the bare stage gives us hope, offering a place where something special could take place, that fight perhaps against medicrity and hyporcrisy as Leopold suggested, that way to increase our enthusiasm and wisdom, listening to others and to protecting our hearts, eventually leaving with the desire to be a better person. That stage, that empty space is indeed pristine and full of hope.

How do we act on the stage then without spoiling it?

Before taking on that simple but mammoth question I have another one. Should or does that stage, the physical space, in fact have to be considered this sacred or meditative kind of place? I say yes. To me it should be invoking like that to the artists and the spectators. Find yourself in a Japanese Garden and chances are you won't be shouting. Japanese gardens are meant to provoke all of your senses, as the stage (and acting) should. A Japanese garden makes you look at things diffently, changes your perspective. It presents and compares logics. More than likely you will be thinking while in the Japanese Garden, or just relaxing. To me the physical space where the actors will perform must embody certain principles and ethics, and have an aesthetic that makes it in a sense sacred, pristine, meditative.

When an actor is taken with a physical space, understands it's ethics, is able to meditate in or on the space, see potential for interactive life with, then he or she is able to imagine those first moments of behavior there and takes essentially the first step towards knowing how to act on the stage without spoiling it. for Aldo Leopold with the land, it meant observation, patience, closeness, the asking of questions, comptemplation - just the sort of mind that is simply trying to put two and two together - no need for seeking brilliance. For actors is should be the same. If you ever have the chance to see the video of Physical Training at the Odin Teatret please do. Those actors, as young men and women, spent long, long hours training in ways that brought them close to their space, mentally, physically, spiritually. Watching it the first time I didn't get it. I just grimaced. Some of the exercises where they just fell on the floor over and over and over, rolling, summersaulting around. For about an hour. And they would do this daily. Then I gradually begin to understand what this and other exercises did for them. Hearing them talk and seeing them perform many years removed from those actual exercises, seeing in practice how they related to this space, how they understood it, what it had come to mean to them, was eye opening. Odin is just one example. There are many from around the world in various cultures and time and place where performance space is considered in this way. In the First Studio of the Moscow Art Theatre the space was sacred and as an actor to perform there you could not "violate" that sacredness with behavior that would cheapen or lessen it. No chit chat or idle conversation there, no complaining or slovenly behavior. A few years ago I was in a local production. Early on the director was going through the process of laying out some of the movement for the actors, blocking the play as they call it. I was on stage with some other actors. Another actor arrived a couple of minutes late, took his designated place on stage, and then begin to eat a hamburger and chit chat about where he had been. Its an example of the cavalier and casual behavior that never would have been allowed for a second in the First Studio or on the floors of Odin Teatret.

How do we act on the stage without spoiling it? Hamlet had some general advice in the form of discription for the players that many try and take to heart. And there are other generalities out there, descriptions likes Hamlet's of how an actor should be. "A warm heart and a cool head" as I believe Joseph Jefferson advocated for himself is another example.

But how do we really do it? How do we act on the stage without spoiling it?

Just when you thought it was safe...

Reminder for Stanislavsky Summer.

First presentation is this coming Monday, June 8th at 7:30 p.m. at Prescott College Tucson Center, 2233 E. Speedway Blvd. Free and open to the public. Our discussion will be “Biographical and historical context, development of ideas for the Stanislavsky System.”

Just who was Stanislavsky, what did he contribute to the world of theatre, and why was or is it important? Strangely enough most people working in theatre cannot answer those things with accuracy or specifics. I would not and do not fault them for that fact. But, if you asked an Evolutionary Biologist who Darwin was, or a Therapist who Freud was, a Christian who Jesus was, or a Basketball Player who Oscar Robertson was, chances are they would know and be able to give some details of contribution by that person to their field of endeavor. Oh now Stanislavsky does have some “reputations’ out in the general world of theatre artists, a kind of hodge-podge of notions. He is a grandfatherly kind of guy who has some good, kind notes on how actors should behave and how they can be more sincere in their acting. He produced and directed very realistic plays. He ruined Chekhov’s plays when he directed them. He started emotional memory but then decided it ruined actors so he switched to physical actions. His System for acting is only good for realism but even then only if you like beats and intentions. Meyerhold, Brecht, Grotowski and others are in direct opposition to Stanislavsky - and Lee Strasberg just got it all wrong anyway. Those kinds of things make up the general perception of Stanislavsky and his work, his contributions. Then there are the more specialized rumors, myths and trendy thoughts that abound. Stella Adler was the only American Actor/Actress to work directly with Stanislavsky. The translations of his books are all wrong. He was a yogi-mystic.

There is perhaps a more practical and common sense view of Stanislavsky and his work that emerges when the all things are considered in their right context - an image of a man and his work that is exciting, profound and important. So, you see we have a lot to take on and it should be a good, fun and informative presentation and discussion. See you there!

The Invisible Theatre vs The Visible Theatre

The Invisible Theatre. The name is brilliant. When I was a kid in the early 70's I used to go see their shows during the first one, two, three years of their existence. It was all original works performed in The Cellar at the old Student Union at the UofA. Tickets were fifty cents. Oranges were passed out to the spectators when they came in the door. The rumor was the oranges were laced with LSD. The saying though was that if the spectator didn't get the feel of the play, at least they got the feel of the orange. I remember at the end of a show there would be orange peels left on many of those tables in the cellar. I can't say I got the feel, as in understood, all their work at that time. It was out there. It was political or satirical or just different. I was just a kid. Some of the shows and scenes and images are vivid, others less so. I can still repeat a few lines from some of the shows, do an impression or two believe it or not. I have a few odd remembrances too. There was a band that played before and during some of the shows. A guy played an electric keyboard in that band and he was named or called "Lightning Fingertips." I used to always like to check out the posters. I believe it was Merle Reagle (sp?) who was the artists for those posters. I have some around, courtesy of my brother, and I should check how to spell Merle's name. Anyway, those posters were very cool, that artwork he did. I remember once seeing him sitting in The Cellar, must have been during a rehearsal, and he was drawing the poster for the upcoming show with some kind of ink pen. Seems like Merle played piano too. I remember watching one of the Major Smack shows, Tim Fuller as the Major, and there was a female impersonator. I didn't realize it was and I couldn't understand what everyone thought was so funny. I just thought it was a woman singing strangely. In the play "Oats" there was Rabs Bar, spelled the same backwards and forwards - strange what you take with you. Those plays were my introduction to theatre, everything about them, even getting backstage and seeing everyone changing in the same room and nobody cared! Well, at home, I started The Visible Theatre. I was the only actor in it until I got my friends Dennis and Gary to help out with the small parts. Gary later went to one of the real shows and practically got in trouble somehow because his family was, uh, lets say, very conservative(?). I don't really know honestly. I think he even had to quit The Visible Theatre because we were getting too politically Jerry Lewis. Dennis and I survived to do a few parodies and skits - which I remember were just shy of brilliant.

Fantasy Productions

The stage is dimly lit, candle light coming from a hanging type of lantern which appears to have been pulled over and set on the edge of a table. We see a man reclining, close under the light. He is reading a book, but appears tired. There is music playing from an older fashioned record player. Instrumental, soft, a kind of soft lyrical jazz. We sit with this image a couple of minutes as the audience takes their seats in a hushed house. The stage seems to grow a little darker and quieter as the lantern continues to burn. The man moves slightly, leaving the book on his chest as he appears to be falling asleep. We see the title of the book, Four Plays by Chekhov. A moment later the music ends and the record finishes. The needle slips across making the scratching sound. It continues, repeating over and over, that scratching sound of the needle as the record continues to turn. The sound is rhythmic, but a little unsettling. We notice and hear now that the man is snoring. Not loudly but enough to know he is in a sound sleep. And now the ticking of a clock is noticeable as well. There is a clock on stage, the hands seemingly broke or not there, the time not quite evident. The needle continues to scratch. The man snores. And the clock ticks. Everything is still on the stage now except the turning of the record and the rise and fall of the man’s chest as he breathes. This image settles on us. Then suddenly we hear a faint chant. A religious chant. We see a man entering. He is holding and swinging a small burning lantern, with incense. He is a religious figure, priest like. He is leading a funeral procession that comes just behind him. The processional led by the quiet almost inaudible chanting of the priest and the swaying of the smoke of the incense and the glow of the lantern proceeds very slowly across the stage, seemingly completely out of place. There is a small coffin being carried. A child’s coffin it appears. Everyone is dressed in dark clothes, black. There is someone who appears to be the mother in mourning walking behind the coffin. She is assisted by two other women, younger. Some of the people step over the sleeping man. The processional moves slowly across and then off the stage with a certain eeriness. We are left again with the scratching, and the ticking, and the snoring, and the stillness of the stage. The image again settles on us. Suddenly there is a blast of a sound surprising us, alarming us. The man sits up quickly, knocking the lantern from its perch. It swings wildly making a big swaying image of light across the stage back and forth. The sound was unrecognizable at first but then as it continued we know it to be a train, blasting its whistle, applying the brakes, screeching to a halt. The man stands groggy in the weirdness of the swinging light, and the scratching of the record. A woman enters quickly carrying a candle. The man sees her and asks, “What time is it?” She moves quickly using her candle to light a couple of others in the room. “Almost two,” she replies, “Light already.” She sets her candle down and stops the swaying lantern as the man moves to peek out of the curtains. She goes to the record player and removes the needle and shuts it down. “But just how late was the train?” he says, almost to himself.

Thus begins The Cherry Orchard. At least thus it begins in my fantasy production. Every actor and director has a few fantasy roles and productions that they can't wait to create, somewhere, somehow, sometime. They may be "lifelong" dreams or ambitions or they they may be momentary infatuations, flavor of the month type of stuff. Either way they are important in the life of an actor or director. Often it is with these type of fantasies that artists learn really how to analyze, think about, and actualize a production/role. Over time, in imagination or in workshops, or at home in front of the mirror, actors and directors are conceptualizing and mulling over these things. Time is a great blessing in these cases - as is the fact that there is no real pressure to open soon. Therefore, fueled by their passion for the role/play, they think through certain details, justifications, behaviors, etc, in new ways that eventually lead to breakthroughs in their work. Their conscious mind sorts through it and over time the creative subconscious starts to take over and next thing you know - there it is! The fruits of their labor may not manifest in that very role or play they had in mind, but the sheer exercise involved teaches them what they need to know and can use in other roles and productions.