Monday, April 25, 2011

April 25, 2011: The Tortoise and the Hare

This past week I was part of a really exciting project in an early developmental phase.  As much as I would love to be totally honest and forthcoming about the exact name, content, nature and details of the project, I fear this might somehow infringe on the rights of those involved.  Therefore, I’m going to create, expound, exaggerate and change the people, places, and events of the following story.  But at its core is some fundamental truth.

No animals were harmed in the development of this story.

(Annabelle, if you read this, contact me.  I owe you a coffee.)

“I’d like to present to you ‘The Final Race,’ a sweet little story that puts a modern spin on the classic tale of the Tortoise and the Hare,” Marcus begins his introduction.  We’re in a small lab space in front of a workshop group gathered to provide feedback and help us progress to our next phase of production.  The space is an attic room of an old office building, divided in half by a wall that barely muffles the sounds of what is either a preschool class or a herd of elephants chasing a bunch of baby goats.  Marcus has been developing the concept of this theatre piece for more than six months, but the four of us have only met twice before now to put together this scene for feedback.

“The purpose of this session,” Marcus explains, “is to get your opinions on two specific questions I have.  First - is the scene clearer in PANTOMIME or DIALOGUE; and second - who do you see as the hero of the story?”  General nods of understanding ripple through the group (there’s Gwendolyn, a 50-something Earth Mother who wears silky flowing layers of colorful clothes and smells like patchouli; Rodney, mid-30’s, workshop-leader and minute-taker, who starts and/or finishes every sentence with “essentially,” i.e. “Essentially, you’re explaining to us, essentially, the premise of your stage piece, and I’m essentially taking notes on what is said, essentially the body of this meeting along with, essentially, the reactions to your performance.  Essentially.”  There’s Linda, who’s about 40, with mousy-colored hair, a mousy expression and a quiet squeaky voice; George, the jolly laid-back fellow who brought the breadsticks; and, finally, Annabelle, an actress who has never attended these workshops before.).   “The scene you are about to see takes place in a pasture, “ Marcus continues, “and the characters will be wearing plain primary-colored robes accented with white.  Here you see the climax of the story, in which the Tortoise wins the race and the Hare curses his bad luck.”  Marcus is interrupted by a loud thumping from next door, followed by a few feeble blasts from a tuba (the elephants have band practice next?) and Marcus repeats, more loudly, “the Hare curses his bad luck.  So you see, the Hare is very upset by this turn of events, and we follow his inner struggle.  We’ll start with the pantomime version, and follow with the dialogue version, and I look forward to your feedback regarding my questions.  Thank you.”

And, accompanied by the belching tubas next door, we proceed to pantomime our modern version of the Tortoise and the Hare, then to go through the scene again with dialogue.

Marcus kicks off the workshop discussion – “Let’s begin with the first question: was the scene clearer in PANTOMIME or DIALOGUE?”  Pouncing on the glottal stop of “dialogue,” Annabelle responds: “Pantomime.  Absolutely.  I thought the dialogue was boring and unclear, and the pantomime was far more entertaining and enjoyable.”

Gwendolyn:  “I disagree.  I liked the scene better in dialogue, not only because I felt it allowed more interaction between the actors and therefore more development of each character, but also because it provided more layers of possibility.  I think we can discuss the deeper implications of the relationship between Tortoise, Hare, and Fox, and also how to change the scene to bring out the specific qualities you wish to highlight.  The dialogue version is both more interesting and clearer for the audience.”

George:  “Yeah.  Dialogue.  Definitely.  Who wants a breadstick?”

Marcus (writing in his notebook):  “Thank you, these opinions are really helpful.  Anyone else?  Linda?”

Linda (wrinkling her nose in thought):  “Yesss...  I liked certain elements of both versions, but I’d have to say on the whole I thought the scene with dialogue was stronger and clearer.”

Rodney:  “Essentially, the group is leaning toward the dialogue version.  I’m with the group.  Essentially.”

Marcus:  “OK, great!  Moving on to the next question – ”

Annabelle (interrupting):  “I’m sorry, can I just add onto that?  I liked the pantomime version, but I really liked the scene in dialogue.  There was a lot going on between the actors, you know, so that they could really TALK to each other and they didn’t have to, like, mime everything.  You know?  That just made it so much clearer and more interesting for me.  As an audience.”

Marcus:  “Thank you – ”

Annabelle (continuing):  “Yeah, and you know, I just really SAW the Tortoise, and the Hare, and the Fox in the second one.  The dialogue one.  You know.  But I also HEARD them.  And that, to me, is so important.  You know.  In theatre.  And acting.  So it just really held my attention and had me asking WHY.  You know?  The dialogue one.  So I just liked that one way better.  Yeah, I couldn’t really CONNECT to the pantomime one.  You know?”

Marcus:  “…OK.  Great!  Some really excellent points there.  That really gives me a feel of how an audience might respond to the pantomime version versus the dialogue version.  So thank you all for your opinions about that.  Now, moving on –”

Annabelle (smiling):  “You’re welcome.”

Marcus (quickly):  “So, moving on to my next question – who did you see as the hero of the story?”

Annabelle:  “Yeah, that’s a great question.  You know, for me, it was clearly the Fox.  You know.  Because he was all like, in the background, you know?  But then he came in at the end, at the most important part, sort of RISING UP, you know?  And that’s really important.  To me.  And to, you know, humanity.”

During this discussion, I had discreetly changed out of my costume and back into my normal clothes, packed up my bag, and slinked to the far corner nearest the elephant tuba wall.  One of my fellow actors had slipped out of the room already, and I had been contemplating doing the same, until I realized I really needed to hear all of Annabelle’s wisdom.  I took mental notes.

Gwendolyn:  “You know, that’s an interesting take on the story, Annabelle.  For me, the hero was clearly the Hare.  And I thought it was really daring how you changed the traditional spin of the story that way, Marcus.  The audience really followed the plight of the Hare, and we almost resented the Tortoise for beating him in the end.  I think you could capitalize even more on the Hare’s vulnerability and his struggle.  We can discuss ways to make the audience identify with him even more.”

George (chewing):  “The Hare.  Right.  Brilliant.  Breadstick?”

Marcus:  “Can I just jump in?  I feel I should share with you that I was, in fact, hoping that the audience would identify with the Hare.  Gwendolyn, I think you hit the nail on the head there.  Thank you for summarizing that so eloquently.  Now moving on to the final question – ”

Annabelle (clapping):  “Yeah, right?  Gwendolyn, you are SO RIGHT!  You know, as I was watching, I just found myself DRAWN to the Hare.  You know?  Like, how can this journey, this HUMAN journey, be any more COMPELLING.  More HEROIC.  Right?  It’s like, just.”  (shaking her head)

Marcus:  “…OK.  Great!  So, – ”

Annabelle:  “You know, why do we CALL him the ‘Hare’?  Right?  It’s like, all these QUESTIONS.”   (shaking her head)

Marcus:  “…Right.  Yes.  It’s true, one of the main points of theatre is to make us ask those important questions.  Which brings me to my final point – are there any overall questions or comments or improvements you think I need to keep in mind as I move forward with this project?”

Annabelle:  “And, you know, WHAT IF the FOX were the hero?  You know?  How would THAT change the story?”

(silence)

Gwendolyn:  “You know, I had some specific ideas for your lighting design, and if you’d like to get together to discuss that later, I’d be happy to share them with you, or even to help out in a more hands-on way.  I think you can combine lighting with costume in some creative ways to help highlight some of the more important plot points, and also help bring out certain aspects of the character relationships.”

Marcus:  “Interesting.  I’d love to – ”

Annabelle:  “Yeah, and SOUND design.”  (shakes her head)

(silence)

Marcus:  “OK, great!  I think this has been a really helpful session, and I look forward to meeting again next month.  Thank you all for your time and input!”

Annabelle:  “I mean, QUESTIONS.  You know?  Like, what is the Hare FEELING?  What is he WEARING?  Where IS he, really?  You know?  From an acting standpoint.”

At this point, there was a particularly loud cacophony of thumping, tubas, and some sort of high-pitched screeching, which allowed us to burst into laughter, comments on the attic space and the plight of the theatre professional, and the success of the evening.

I guess Annabelle will be left with her questions.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

April 16, 2011: Edward and Rupert

Here it is, folks: my commitment to share the stories of my life as an artist in Portland.  The transition from Florida has been hard, and I haven't felt that my life here, so far, has been blog-worthy.  I'm no longer in Russia, so who cares what I'm doing?

Well, the answer needs to be: I do, so You Do Too.  One of the things my Russian acting teachers asked us to do was give our "impressions," weekly.  We would talk about people we saw on the street, or the differences or similarities between life in Russia and life in the States, how theatre performances that we saw changed us, classes, relationships -- for 3 months in Russia, almost everything was new, so there was a lot to talk about.  Actors are storytellers, and it's important to recognize and share the stories in our lives, whether they're happy, surprising, thrilling, or sad or difficult to share.  Noticing and weaving the stories of my life helps me stay awake, passionate, and motivated, and it reminds me to believe in myself and this journey I'm on.

So here it is.  My commitment to share my stories here.

I went to a film audition last week and read with the most clueless actor I have ever had the privilege of meeting.  Truly, his behavior made it impossible for me to be nervous; he made me feel joyful; he made my heart laugh.  Largely because of him, I gave a really good audition.

He walked into the large room that was both waiting area and audition space as the previous set of actors were just finishing up their read.  They were still sitting at the audition table, and although they didn't appear to be reading scripts, they were still talking with the auditioners.  This guy, we'll call him Rupert, strode confidently into the space from outside, breathing audibly ("Whew!  Woo!  Wow!"), taking off his coat as he walked straight up to the audition table and into the group of actors already seated there.  He offered his hand to the middle auditioner, introduced himself, and began telling a long story about how he would have been late because he missed his bus, so he decided to call a cab and boy was it EXPENSIVE, but thankfully he was on time, and he was so happy to meet everyone!  By the time he had finished his story, the actors who had been sitting at the table said their quiet goodbyes and left, and the auditioners asked me and another guy (we'll call him Edward) to join them at the table.

We sat down and introduced ourselves, and as Rupert said his name, he continued with, "Now, you want me to read the part of the gay guy, right?  I have to tell you, I can't do the gay lisp."  (... I know.  I'm not making this up.)  "I can't do the gay lisp,"  Rupert says.  "I've been working on it all week, and I asked all my gay friends to teach me, but I just can't do it.  So could I also read the other role?"

I think, if I had been sitting on the other side of the table, I might have said "thanks for coming in, Rupert, we've seen all we need to see; don't call us, we'll call you."  But instead, one of the auditioners explained to him very reasonably that there were many ways to play the part of the "gay guy," and a "gay lisp" really wasn't necessary at all, but if there was time he could certainly read the other role.

We began reading, Edward on my left as my boyfriend, and Rupert on my right as our (gay) friend.  Edward was reading the script off his laptop computer screen; Rupert had taken a script sitting on the table and was reading from it.  (Does it go without saying that I had printed off the sides they emailed to us and brought them with me?  Well, I had.)

You know how in scripts there are often brief stage directions between the lines of dialog?  "He moves to shake her hand;" "He walks to the bar and pours himself a drink;" "He laughs condescendingly;" that sort of thing?  Well, Rupert read them out loud.  Sometimes twice (first quickly and quietly and then loudly and faster), so he could follow them at the same time.  Thus, the beginning of our read-through went something like this:

Me:  "I'm nervous that we came here tonight.  Maybe we should go."

Edward: (scrolling on his computer, pause) "Don't worry sugar plum, I know she will help us."

Rupert:  "Knocking on the door and smiling at his friends.  Knocking on the door and smiling at his friends.  Maybe she's not home."

I know.  I'm not making this up.  Somehow, we got to the end of the scene.  Edward apologized for his many pauses, saying his computer was having trouble loading the whole script, at which point one of the auditioners asked him if he would like a paper copy.  Then we read it a second time (so that Rupert could have a shot at the other part).  The auditioners thanked us for our time, Edward and I made a quick and graceful departure while Rupert stayed to discuss with the auditioners how MUCH he LOVED the script and how FUNNY that ending was...

I got an email yesterday: I got the part.  If I show up on the first day and Rupert is there, I'm leaving.