One of my favorite parts of working on anything scene-related is pulling it apart based on the actions and words of the characters and figuring out what happened to these people before they got involved in whatever they are getting involved in. What makes these people tick? What are the possibilities? I often don't like it when people go to far and make up some story about a character losing a dog and how that affected them terribly... blah, blah, blah. It's cool if you lose a dog and that helps you get to wherever you need to go, but don't waste my time with your fanciful bullshit. The answers are in the text. granted sometimes a text modern needs some fleshing out; that's fun, but whatever the case may be, doing the detective work really turns me on. I remember back in undergrad, my very first Chekhov scene that Svet had assigned me was between Masha and Vershinin from 'Three Sisters'. That scene was a fucking puzzler, and my room-mates,who were grad students at the time and had already dealt with it were strictly pulled aside and told not to help me out. That Svet is a crafty one. The whole major action between the two characters happens off stage and is never directly referred to; it's alluded to. I look back on it now, and say to myself, "Obviously. Of course, that's what happened.", and really appreciate the lesson. I won't spoil it for you. Most of you probably know exactly what I'm talking about, but for those of you who don't, read it; check it out. It's good stuff. I mean, Chekhov, right!?
Toni Ann and I are working on 'Mourning Becomes Electra' right now in Andrei's class. I am the Orin to her Lavinia, which is great because back in ancient Greece, she's the Electra to my Orestes. It might be a bit of a cheat, but the great stories are often stolen and reshaped, and you can't go wrong with 'The Oresteia'. Aeschylus for the win. I will admit to you, that the scene was a bit of a last-miutepick-up for me, so I haven't read the three plays entirely through; we're still muddling through that. Naughty actors... tsk, tsk. So I, in need of putting up the scene for the first time had to go off of what I know about the play, generally, and my more extensive knowledge of it's source material. Thank god that Andrei's the type of teacher that gives you time to get yourself involved with what you're about to do before you launching to it. I get some time to write in my manuscript, converse with my dead father and get in touch with my own personal inner-guilt demons.
Our scene today was a pretty rocky first start. Getting to work with another actor in a company for the first time is alway s a bit of an experiment: finding their own rhythm, jiving, learning how they work and how to best work together. It's very jazz. I'm more the kind of guy that mostly likes to learn lines; know my own business; lay a ground plan; throw in some environmental surprises, trust the other actor and let fate and discovery decide where things take us. Now there is a "plan" in the script; Romeo and Juliet never get a happy ending because I feel like it, and eventually some traffic patterns loosely form. I like to know that I can move "off the rails" when the perfect opportunity strikes, but, in the end, most of the time some general foundations are laid (a nice balance between knowing what's coming, but still being able to be caught off guard). Like, I said, it was a rocky start, but we each learned something and after some post-mortem and another kine-rehearsal, I'm really excited to give it another go tomorrow.
What's really great about tracing the clues back to their possible foundations is not only the chance to play detective (after all, part of my draw to this form of start telling is that it is, to me, a social science), but also getting in touch with the need to think about why people in the world of the text and, by extension, the real world are motivated to do the things that they do. It's a whetstone that, with use, can very finely hone a person's sense of compassion: something that, I would argue might be in somewhat of a short supply (even if the world were full of compassion, I might still argue it; can you really ever have enough?).
Personally, I have been dealing with a challenge for the past several months. This is going to get honest, probably more so than I ought to in this forum, but it was an experience and applies to my point, so here it comes. I have a friend for whom I, admittedly, care a great deal. We haven't seen much of each other over the last several months, but there has been a growing antipathy between us for this time that we have not... been in each other's social sphere, let's say. There has been talk by third parties of how one dislikes the other, conversations tend to be awkward, bordering on not-so-subtle (yet socially polite) enmity. There was a mild confrontation that left me more than a bit cross yesterday after dinner. My entire bus ride home was filled with thoughts of how this had all come to pass. What led the two of us, two people who once got along quite well, to a state of dissolution. It occurred to me in my tracing of the lines that there had been times where I had been trying to rebuild a bridge and had been rebuffed, and times when she had been boldly extending the olive branch, only to be spurned by my recently singed feelings and pride. It was a disconsolate cycle in which we had mired ourselves. The fates had provided an opportunity to steal away for a quick, private chat today; we seized it and allowed for us to share sentiment and cleanse and salve the wounds that we were perpetually inflicting on one and other. I believe, now, that miscommunication and, perhaps, some external bending of the truth were the source of the problem, but fortunately, it no longer matters the given circumstances no longer hold sway.
The theater, and the power to share stories of kings and beggars and losers that win, can be a truly healing place; a triage for the soul. Today, and the lessons of the days leading up to today sometimes afford us the opportunities to heal ourselves with solicitude; warmth; love; tenderness; mercy, leniency - Compassion: the very best of given circumstances.
"Compassion brings us to a stop, and, for a moment, we rise above ourselves."
-Mason Cooley
Tonight, my heart is full.
-R
Toni Ann and I are working on 'Mourning Becomes Electra' right now in Andrei's class. I am the Orin to her Lavinia, which is great because back in ancient Greece, she's the Electra to my Orestes. It might be a bit of a cheat, but the great stories are often stolen and reshaped, and you can't go wrong with 'The Oresteia'. Aeschylus for the win. I will admit to you, that the scene was a bit of a last-miutepick-up for me, so I haven't read the three plays entirely through; we're still muddling through that. Naughty actors... tsk, tsk. So I, in need of putting up the scene for the first time had to go off of what I know about the play, generally, and my more extensive knowledge of it's source material. Thank god that Andrei's the type of teacher that gives you time to get yourself involved with what you're about to do before you launching to it. I get some time to write in my manuscript, converse with my dead father and get in touch with my own personal inner-guilt demons.
Our scene today was a pretty rocky first start. Getting to work with another actor in a company for the first time is alway s a bit of an experiment: finding their own rhythm, jiving, learning how they work and how to best work together. It's very jazz. I'm more the kind of guy that mostly likes to learn lines; know my own business; lay a ground plan; throw in some environmental surprises, trust the other actor and let fate and discovery decide where things take us. Now there is a "plan" in the script; Romeo and Juliet never get a happy ending because I feel like it, and eventually some traffic patterns loosely form. I like to know that I can move "off the rails" when the perfect opportunity strikes, but, in the end, most of the time some general foundations are laid (a nice balance between knowing what's coming, but still being able to be caught off guard). Like, I said, it was a rocky start, but we each learned something and after some post-mortem and another kine-rehearsal, I'm really excited to give it another go tomorrow.
What's really great about tracing the clues back to their possible foundations is not only the chance to play detective (after all, part of my draw to this form of start telling is that it is, to me, a social science), but also getting in touch with the need to think about why people in the world of the text and, by extension, the real world are motivated to do the things that they do. It's a whetstone that, with use, can very finely hone a person's sense of compassion: something that, I would argue might be in somewhat of a short supply (even if the world were full of compassion, I might still argue it; can you really ever have enough?).
Personally, I have been dealing with a challenge for the past several months. This is going to get honest, probably more so than I ought to in this forum, but it was an experience and applies to my point, so here it comes. I have a friend for whom I, admittedly, care a great deal. We haven't seen much of each other over the last several months, but there has been a growing antipathy between us for this time that we have not... been in each other's social sphere, let's say. There has been talk by third parties of how one dislikes the other, conversations tend to be awkward, bordering on not-so-subtle (yet socially polite) enmity. There was a mild confrontation that left me more than a bit cross yesterday after dinner. My entire bus ride home was filled with thoughts of how this had all come to pass. What led the two of us, two people who once got along quite well, to a state of dissolution. It occurred to me in my tracing of the lines that there had been times where I had been trying to rebuild a bridge and had been rebuffed, and times when she had been boldly extending the olive branch, only to be spurned by my recently singed feelings and pride. It was a disconsolate cycle in which we had mired ourselves. The fates had provided an opportunity to steal away for a quick, private chat today; we seized it and allowed for us to share sentiment and cleanse and salve the wounds that we were perpetually inflicting on one and other. I believe, now, that miscommunication and, perhaps, some external bending of the truth were the source of the problem, but fortunately, it no longer matters the given circumstances no longer hold sway.
The theater, and the power to share stories of kings and beggars and losers that win, can be a truly healing place; a triage for the soul. Today, and the lessons of the days leading up to today sometimes afford us the opportunities to heal ourselves with solicitude; warmth; love; tenderness; mercy, leniency - Compassion: the very best of given circumstances.
"Compassion brings us to a stop, and, for a moment, we rise above ourselves."
-Mason Cooley
Tonight, my heart is full.
-R
No comments:
Post a Comment