Making Humans More Human

I am new to this world of blogs. I have read plenty, I just have barely written any. I have been asked, bugged, prompted and cajoled by our web master to please write something on a panel series we are doing in a two weeks time in Boston:

The Importance of Live Theater in Our Culture:The Art of Making Humans More Human

In thinking about this blog, I ask myself – why are we doing this panel? Why is this important and what would make it worthwhile for someone to come to downtown Boston if they had planned to stay home that night?

Here are my thoughts from the last few days;

We’re doing this because there is a hunger for conversation about the topics that stretch us and stun us as people. How to become more human is a big subject and one with all that we see in the news, and on our streets and schools, worthy of deep consideration. At our best we bring life to each other, at our worst we take it away. How can we live our best lives, and be the best creatures on this planet fulfilling our individual purpose? Finding  answers to questions like these and getting there is often not a solo journey, but one accompanied by others who come to us in ways we often do not expect or anticipate.    The beauty of conversation is that it is not only about speaking, it is about listening. So, conversation much like live theatre requires two parties to fulfill the experience –  speaker and listener, actor and audience, complete the exchange. 

Before our panel discussion we are performing Yasmina Reza’s God of Carnage.  In her words, “a funny tragedy”. I was so relieved to find this description because while I find the play very funny on another level it is also very disturbing. Two couples gather to discuss a fight between their sons, and disintegrate as the time wears on.  The first suffocating moments of the play, offer images of good people, trying to abide by societies rules. As the images get shattered, the real angers, hurts and vendettas are revealed and we have an inkling why the two boys fought on the playground. 

Reza reveals the problem, but does not resolve it. It is left to us to take the next step whether it be in our communities, in our homes, or simply in ourselves.  

So, besides a dynamic panel, free sandwiches and a great play, I would invite you, encourage you, and compel you to come to this discussion for it holds in it the seeds of hope for the future of our communities. It is also good to know you are not alone in this life, trying to honor the humanity in yourself and in others around you. 

The Safety of Being Known......

As a resident company, the members of Elements have the distinct privilege of knowing each other really well. I mean REALLY well – like, probably knowing more than you want to know or be known about at times.

This has its pluses and minuses. I confess that I have wondered recently about what it would be like to put on a show with total strangers – no baggage, no worries, no relationships to protect…

But then I was thinking about Dream, and specifically about the Mechanicals. Now, without giving too much away, we Mechanicals have decided that we are all members of a certain group that meet regularly to share our common struggles, to confront each other, and to support each other. We know each other really well, and we’ve seen each other at our best and at our worst. We want good things for each other. And a fascinating thing I’ve noticed in our process so far is that the time spent off-stage, developing these relationships and really getting to know Snout, Snug, Flute, Quince, and Bottom, has been way more important than the time spent acting on-stage. And the things that come out in our interaction through Shakespeare’s dialog present a Technicolor experience of total honesty, trust, earnest-ness, and joyful abandon.

Huh.

So I return to my original wonderment, about the potential benefits of anonymity. Maybe I’ll get to try it someday, but for now I wouldn’t trade that safety of knowing and being known. For us Mechanicals anyway, it’s a very good thing.

Heat

"Passion is engendered, not by feeling and emotion, but rather by action."  Anne Bogart

Here is the link to a fantastic blog by Anne Bogart founder of the SITI Company in NYC.

http://siti.org/content/heat

Dreaming

"I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was..."
Bottom, Dream IV.i.

After rehearsal last Friday night, I had a dream.

I dream a lot. Nightmares, constantly. Life-like scenarios when you wake up thinking "that actually happened," all the time. Naked dreams, flying dreams, speaking-in-a-foreign language dreams -- yup, all of the above, frequently.

No wonder then that since we've embarked on Dream my sleeping hours have been as hyperactive as ever.

Here was last Friday night's scenario:

Myself (female, married, with children), a co-worker (also female, married, with children), and a fellow actor (male, and actually a monk) were moving in together, into a very small but lovely suite -- 2 bedrooms, a bathroom, and a closet. It was a glorious day, and the sun was streaming through the windows -- white walls, light wood floors. The center of the biggest bedroom, which happened to be the adjoining room, also featured a large indoor plot of grass. This grass was picture-perfect blue grass -- the kind you want to lay down in and fall asleep. We immediately set to work figuring out the best sleeping arrangements. She and I would share the smaller room, since we all know he gets up earlier than us and goes to bed later -- so there would be no awkwardness of crossing paths, or conflict with use of the bathroom. Then we got to work on our perfect little indoor garden.

I don't remember much else about the dream, except that all of this seemed 100% rational. No one at any time said, "This is insane," or "What the hell is going on here," or anything like that. We weren't in the least bit upset about it.

Analyze this however you want -- it's probably more revealing than I'd like it to be. But the next day, I couldn't wait to tell my friends about this dream, for the sheer joy and smile it brought to my face when I woke up in the morning. Suddenly, I felt a lot like Bottom.

In that barely-awake moment at the end of IV.i. when Bottom relives the "rare vision" he has just experienced, I get choked up. I always feel like that dream is the thing that gives Bottom the oomph to go on, and when he returns to his fellow Mechanicals, his zeal is infectious and spurs them all on to their moment of greatness.

Sometimes dreamers scare me. Their ideas are so big, and usually require a lot of work, major risk, and 100% dedication, and the outcome is never certain. 

But what if I was more like Bottom? An ass with a dream, who's not afraid to share it, or to take others along for the glorious ride. Something about that seems oddly appealing.

Word Made Flesh

Yesterday, we started on a 5-week refresher, based on Kristin Linklater's exquisite guidebook to the universe, "Freeing Shakespeare's Voice."

Lying on the floor, standing there in a circle, with people I love and respect greatly, allowing vowels and consonants to have their way with us physically and emotionally -- well, as one teacher said to us once, "I'm not sure what it is, but it isn't nothing."

I must remember to prepare myself in the future, because it always opens a door of immediacy in me that I find it impossible to close.
Let that "O" really drop into the belly,
give in to all that vulnerability that "AY" demands,
and suddenly I feel everything intensely, personally, devastatingly. I can't turn it off, and frankly, I don't want to.
The best advice to myself and others at this point has always been to pray for a thick skin, and a soft heart.

Danger, Will Robinson: this experience cannot be about me. My vocation is to be an actor. I am an emotional skydiver on behalf of my audience. I serve the playwright and his text. I open myself as a vessel for the character that has been created. I give myself to my scene partners. And if I don't, then I am a selfish pig.

"Resist the sound for as long as you can," Kristin Linklater says, "and when you can't stand it any longer, give in to it." I give in. It's all there. I don't have to add anything, or be clever, or anything like that -- just available. Word made flesh.

Opposites Attract - Part One

I find opposites an absolute thrill. 

In our Dream, we've discovered that the Mechanicals all have their foils in the Fairies. Peter Quince, Snout, Snug and Flute -- salt-of-the-earth citizens struggling to stay upright and on the wagon -- evolve into Peaseblossom, Mustardseed, Moth and Cobweb -- amoral sprites who don't hesitate to do...well, anything Titania tells them.

The Mechanicals also seem to discover their alter-egos in their roles in Pyramus and Thisby. During a rehearsal of 5.1 the other night, we found ourselves in the middle of a sort of epic Greek drama, involving elevated poses and complex choreography.

This is a rush. And I think it's because all of these opposites have already met inside of each one of us, and they are simply psyched to be let out of their cages for a little while.

Taking it a little further, I think this might be why Dream is thrilling in general. In your own dreams, you can suddenly be anything and find yourself anywhere. The same's true in this Dream: our inner monarchs, lovers, magicians, and warriors all show up for the party.

What is Love?

What is love? 'Tis not hereafter.

Present mirth hath present laughter.

What’s to come is still unsure.

In delay there lies no plenty.

Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.

Youth’s a stuff will not endure.

Feste sings this in 12th Night -- I confess I didn't give it a whole lot of thought during our production. But here we are in "Dream", and the question of what love is in my face again.
I wouldn't describe myself as a naturally loving person. Love sneaks up on me, and when it hits me, it hits me hard. This terrifies me. I'm married with children - I have no business falling in love with anyone else ever again. But guess what? It happens, and I can't control it, predict it, or understand it - witness the fact that during our last rehearsal, I found myself completely, fiercely enamored with Helena. Huh.
Genius that he is, Shakespeare manages to touch on almost every conception and misconception of love I can think of in "Dream." Love monopolizes "Dream" - parent/child, spouse, romantic, unrequited, spurned, ridiculous, misplaced, friendship, and on and on... And frankly, as much as it scares me, I'd like to experience it all at some point during this process.
We had a teacher once who said that she falls in love at least once during every production. This same teacher taught us about the main Shakespearean archetypes: The Monarch, The Warrior, The Magician, and - yes, you guessed it - The Lover. The Lover's motto is "All of service, nothing of self".
The Lover's action is to begin by placing one's clenched fists over one's heart, and then releasing both hands and arms to open wide. I dare you to try it.