Wednesday, 20 August 2008

Exposure

I had been planning to write a post on the blog about the difficulties of the facilitator/director's role in a piece like this. During rehearsals I have always feel a complex mixture of emotions - an envy where I wish that I could be doing the tasks too, a (some would say machiavellian) desire to set the performers even more difficult, arduous and mean tasks, and a guilt at setting these tasks and then just sitting back and watching, unable to fully take part. These last two emotions have been the most difficult to negotiate - how can I balance them both? How can I push my performers but do so in a healthy, happy, accepting atmosphere? I feel like I had already been making progress (our blindfolding exercises, for example, get better, more engaging and adventurous every time we do it) but realistically we just don't have the time to develop each task in the same way.

I had conveyed these emotions to a colleague, Jessica Hartley, who is at the moment writing a PHD thesis on risk, fear, exposure and failure in performance and pedagogy. She agreed to come to a rehearsal and, in her words, 'poke' us, with games and exercises based on physical and emotional exposure.

It was a fascinating experience.

As a group we were hesitant, we held back, and were overly polite and nice to each other - we obviously still have some way to go in terms of truly exposing ourselves as performers and people. However, what pleased me the most - apart from what I learnt about my performers, how they work, what they are like, and how they interact with each other through watching them during these games, was their positivity and commitment to the project in future rehearsals, to pushing themselves, and allowing themselves to be pushed.

I came to the rehearsal looking for validation, for the green light to be the facilitator/director that I want to be, and happily, I found it. Future rehearsals may have a completely different feel to them now...

Monday, 18 August 2008

I am in the present and only the present matters to me.

As I continue my research for my portfolio I have observed the existing argument between imagination and presence. Actor training still currently relies on Stanislavski's system. Actors are encouraged to use their imagination to 'transform' themselves into a character, and the emphasis is placed heavily on the individual. It is interesting then to look at eastern styles of training, such as Suzuki, whose aim is to train the actor to be present at all times, constantly ready to accept and react to the unexpected. The emphasis is on the ensemble working together, and in order to do so, the actor can not escape or drift into his or her own imagination.

Today Darren and I participated in what has been labeled as 'the blind fold exercise'. Throughout Darren was really taunting me, tapping me in different places, lifting and spinning me, and overall, completely disorienting me. By the end I was truly exhausted, primarily physically, but my emotions had begun to creep in as well. Feeling abused and fatigued I felt on the verge of tears. Naturally I do not know what the experience was of watching this performance. However, I imagine this real human experience was theatrically interesting. Some would say this was not acting; however, I would argue that 'acting' is a subjective term. We naturally begin to portray a performative self when placed in front of others or a camera in this case. Furthermore, as the exercise progressed stories start to creep in. I imagined I was a prisoner of war at one point, then it seemed as though we were lovers fighting. See? It is impossible NOT to involve the imagination. But it is my belief that the answer to creating exciting theatre is through liveness (being present and allowing anything to happen), whether that is through true physical pain, exhaustion, or failure.

Saturday, 16 August 2008

www.uk.youtube.com/watch?v=2sZbrclbwTs

www.uk.youtube.com/watch?v=2sZbrclbwTs

Just tried the other link and it didn't work maybe this one will?

www.uk.youtube.com/watch?v=2sZbrclbwTs

www.uk.youtube.com/watch?v=2sZbrclbwTs

Just tried the other link and it didn't work maybe this one will?
www.uk.youtube.com/watch?v=2sZbrclbwTs

Failure.

Well Fridays rehearsal was interesting.  I left with a  feeling of failure and by what, a recorded series of bleeps.  I felt a genuine sense of failure at not completing that bleep test so much so that I really want to do it again with some shoes on just to prove to myself that I can do it.  

Anyway heres a link thats quite funny and involves both restriction and failure. Enjoy.


Thursday, 14 August 2008

Bringing the Performer's Own Identity into the Room

My own research has focused on the use of the performer's identity in the devising process and in performance. I am interested in how the performer's own opinions and natural reactions can influence the process. As an experiment I asked everyone to participate in an exercise we had done previously (The White Moment). This time; however, they were not allowed to make up a random, fantastical topic. Instead, they were asked to give a presentation on an issue they truly care about (for instance, I spoke about my inability as an American to get a job in this country). In previous attempts at this exercise no one truly reached a 'white moment', the moment at which the individual realizes he/she is standing in front of an audience and has just exposed their self by ranting to such an extreme that he/she has lost all sense of time and place. To achieve this the individual must let go of any inner constraints and allow themselves to be completely uninhibited. Perhaps this is why everyone was even more reserved when speaking as their self. The absurd topics that were generated served as a sort of mask. Everyone seemed astonished by themselves when they finished, often saying "I swear I don't know where that came from; I don't know why I said those things." When forced to speak on a real-life issue there was no mask to hide behind, and each individual subsequently became more self-conscious. No one built to a climax. Instead, each time someone got a bit worked up, he/she would quickly back down; perhaps fearing that the others would judge him/her as bad-tempered? It would be interesting to see how we perform this same exercise under the guise of a mask or a costume. I am finding this to be a key element in accessing deeper aspects of the performer's true self.