Snowed out!  We’ve had several rehearsals cancelled on account of the weather and it has set us back in several ways.  But let me begin with a recap.

On February 21, we gathered together to work on lines.  “When the director’s away, the actors will play” ought to be one of those maxims of the theater.  We stumbled, bumbled and plumbled our way through twice.  We were giddy with our own awfulness!  The first time through was a real disaster–one verbal train wreck after another.  But we didn’t care.  It was fun, probably because of that old Viola Spolin notion about “Approval/Disapproval”–there was no one there to please.  Try as we might, years of professional work notwithstanding, we all want the director’s approval.  And we don’t like it when we don’t get it!  So, when it is “just us,” there is a feeling of freedom–to fail, make an ass of one’s self and generally just PLAY.  And in that freedom to play, I think we find new things–things that cannot be found otherwise.  We can’t officially have this kind of rehearsal built in, but I feel it is a necessary and very useful part of the process.

More specifically to the show, however, I made what I think is a valid discovery.  The stories potential has to be brought on stage.  The story is not really discovered in the scene, but rather the “characters”  seem to seek opportunities to reveal their stories.  (I place character in quotes not to be cheeky or ironic, but to qualify the description of these enactments.  I’m not prepared to characterize any of these behavior sets as characters.)  So, motivation doesn’t arise in the usual cause and effect way.  New units (beats), changes in intent and subject have to be embedded and simply learned by heart.  And this is what makes some of the lines so damn hard to learn!  Some things just come out of –well, not nowhere, but from a place less usual than in traditional western dramatic form.

The other delightful aspect of the rehearsal was that a window had been built and we could play upon it.  There are three windows total, but on that day just one was up.  I am a very physical actor and I had the best time–like a kid on the monkey bars.  Part of the fun is the foundation a physical object provides–and a window on which you can climb, sit, and generally shape around is a fantastic foundation!  Certainly, it can be a crutch.  I have had to admonish many students for clinging ferociously to a chair or table.  That kind of behavior, as we know, is fear-based.  “Just give me something to hold on to!”  I suffer from that, too. (Who doesn’t?)  That said, the window is part of the fabric of the play and with them the play begins to materialize and even those treacherous lines arrive more easily.

So, yesterday, after two cancellations, we got back together, sort of on the fly.  Rehearsing on Saturday morning is not anyone’s idea of fun, but it had to be done.  With less than two weeks to opening, we can feel the pressure to perform well up within and push from without.  So, the director naturally seeks to find the rhythm of scenes and variety in behaviors that will deliver the play effectively to an audience.  And, like a car in first gear, the actors want to feel that organic flow of energy that releases a fully formed performance.  But we have not earned the right to either.  What’s always difficult about this moment of the rehearsal process is that just when actors really need to focus on process–discovery the source of behaviors and how best to allow them to manifest organically–the director really needs to focus on shaping the play for an audience.  There is inevitable push and pull, that can feel like (and easily be mistaken for) tension or conflict, but really is the natural outcome of two forces working towards the same end, but from different sides.  It’s like chasing a pea on your plate with two forks.  Unless your aim is true, the timing exact, and the forces even applied, you’ll never get what you want.  Or maybe it’s like two people chasing the same pea on the plate, trying to feed the baby.  Or maybe it’s like catching a greased pig.  Whatever it is, it ain’t easy and can lead to discontent.  Fortunately, this group is very friendly and sublimates any tension into silliness and the occasional curse when lines and/or business goes awry.  But it speaks to the need for compassion, patience and most importantly, understanding of each sides needs.

Today, we’re back at it, this time in the evening, and then back again Monday morning.  The director encouraged me to think about one character (“Leonard”) as wanting to be liked.  I don’t quite see it like that, but I countered that perhaps Leonard was “seeking an ally.,” and he seemed OK with that frame.  It’s actor-speak, but for me there is a big difference between a “want” and a task (“to seek”).  Wants & needs may motivate, but they are undifferentiated.  Like some scientists’ notions of emotions as “states of action readiness,”  I think needs/urges/desires/wants are also general energy states that PROMPT but do not specify ACTION.  Therefore, FROM the wanting to be liked, Leonard SEEKS allies to his worldview.  Like the Man, Leonard is displaced–and his displacement seems to come out of his own tenuous grasp of his own sanity.  He sees conspiracies all around and lunatics, too.  Who WOULDN’T doubt their sanity in such a world?  It is, then, imperative to find others like oneself–to verify one’s sanity.  “I think X, therefore I AM,”  but unless someone else thinks X, too…am I?

Our first article of 2010 is Master of Two Servants: the Script vs. the Community by Miriam Mills, Rider University.  Click the link above to access.

I have been hesitant to continue–you may have noticed.  I found that once I announced to the cast and director that I was blogging on my process, it became a sort of wedge in the work.  Rehearsals often began with the query–”how’s the blog?!”  Maybe it was just me, but it felt a little like people were being made anxious by what I might have said.  It reminds me of when someone will see me and say, “hey!  I was talking about you to my friend!”  My usual reaction is, “oh, really?  What did you say about me?”  The blog, it seems, is a little like that friend I’ve been spilling to about my other friends.

I’ve been assured by my castmates that this is NOT the case, so I am making another entry.  Yet, I remain reticent.  Rehearsing is a kind of private thing.  I was reminded of that this morning when I read an email from a student director who specifically DIS-invited me to a runthrough.  Apparently, the actors’ had been made nervous by other interlopers.  So, in a way, the readers of this (if there are any) are interlopers, too–silent and unknown observers of what really is NOT meant to be seen.  I want MY privacy, too.  Fear and anxiety are part of the process.  “Did that suck as bad as I thought?”  What actor doesn’t think that at some (or many) point of the rehearsal period?  Actors also think, “damn, that was excellent work today!”  The superstitious among us might be tempted not to talk or discuss when things go well fearing to jinx the play.  As silly as some of this may be, it is a routine part of exploration–which to be successful must allow for humiliation AND triumph away from the public eye.  Who has not seen ideas or art rushed to publication or public display in a fit of hubris, or good work abandoned in despair when early failures occur?

So.  Back to rehearsal.  When last I wrote, we had just begun the staging process.  We read and explored a bit more deeply at the table, and then if the spirit so moved, so did we.  We had the rehearsal floor taped (well, marked out anyway), with chairs standing in for windows and ledges.  Recall that the play takes place entirely on the seventh floor ledge of a building.  What I began to see was how these disparate characters were linked to each other and how important it was not only to distinguish my characters from each other, but also from the other characters in the play.  The director has a great feel for the rhythm of a scene and a good grasp on the play as a whole.  He was watching out for variety in movement, sound & action.  The upshot of which was that one of my characters was just not functioning.  I had made progress on “Leonard” and “Michael,” moving them in clear directions and away from stereotypes (while fulfilling the tasks demanded by the text).  But “Al” was giving me trouble.  The director gave me some images and actual people to suggest preferences and orientations.  We went from a Stephen Wright-like misanthrope to a nerdy, Rick Moranis-like goofball.  One was too like another character, the other just lame!  But, the trips were worth it because I can borrow some actions and alignments from each to inform what “Al” is now becoming.  At any rate, the costume designer came to one rehearsal (#5, I think) and as we chatted about our characters it was clear that NO ONE had a good idea about “Al.”  We bandied about some notions about what “Al” would wear and I think I finally suggested (out of desperation) that maybe because he was a perpetual party-goer he wore a Hawaiian shirt.  This got a laugh and then we finished for the day.  The director emailed me late the next night to suggest a “Lewis Black” approach.  I’m not too up on Mr. Black and I thought maybe I should check him out on the web.  But I resisted that and instead just drew from my memory–pretty sketchy, admittedly.  But that sketchiness was probably a good thing.  I had an image of a large, curmudgeonly fellow in a Hawaiian shirt and a deep neurotic need to be “seen.”  The key for me was his line,

“I’m always hearing about parties I didn’t go to.  How great they were.  What a fabulous time everybody had.  The ones I miss are always the good ones.  So I never miss one now.”

Although he would rather be alone, he doesn’t want to miss out.  Like many of the characters in this play, I think that line hits upon one of those paradoxes we all can relate to.  Back in rehearsal, that seemed to work rather well.  Flush with success, I ran to my rehearsal journal (I keep with me at all times) and wrote down the following:

Al as Lewis Black–brash, annoyed, abrasive, laughs at own jokes.  Horizontal orientation.  Leads with stomach.  Bear-like.  Strong Weight, Sustained Time and Direct Space Efforts–PRESSer.

Leonard–sagittal orientation.  Bird-like.  Leads with nose (?)  Darting, dabbing and flicking.  Light Weight, Indirect Space, Quick Time Efforts.

Michael–Vertical orientation.  Leads with chest (heart).  Reptilian.  Direct Space, Sustained Time, Bound Flow Efforts–glider to slasher.

So, that’s where I am today.  Lines due soon, but I’m on them.

I’m enjoying rehearsing.  In fact, I look forward to it–even though the pressures of parenthood and my full-time job as a professor squeeze my time and psyche now and then.  This is a good group of people.  And I’m not just saying that to alleviate any anxiety about blogging.

I’ll be back soon.

PK