Category Archives: directing

acting, directing

Last night, in a studio in Collegetown,

I got to observe more of Amina’s Meisner class at the Actors’ Workshop of Ithaca, and the very good direction of her teacher Eliza. Some useful things:

1) Feeling-into-line: such as directing an actor to say “You’re so wonderful” before each the lines of the script, as an exercise. I’ve never seen this before. It was spectacular.

2) The word “pinch” instead of “impulse.” It just sounds right. We discussed, afterwards, if the word “pinch” only makes you think of Meisner molesting his female students – but perhaps, that only emphasizes how much a pinch is something that the other actor does to you.

3) The quality of the repetition exercise mid-class as opposed to at the beginning – the value of warming up.

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convergence, directing, theater, workstyle

Open Ithaca

In Ithaca, staying with Amina and David. It’s so beautiful here. We had brunch, then walked up the path from the gorges to Collegetown and were overwhelmed by the color yellow. I’m going to do that walk again today, I think, up to the Cornell library to get some chorus information for the Convergence.

I observed part of a Meisner-based acting class yesterday, with all sorts of exercises – the repetition one and the open scene in particular. I was pretty happy to hear beginning actors ask questions like “How ARE you supposed to make your lines sound natural?” and “What’s blocking?”

(In an open scene, you use the lines of a scene to just respond to your partner, and you aren’t supposed to worry about playing the action of the scene or the meaning of the lines. The one I saw reminded me of the technique where you ask actors to burlesque a scene – to play it at a much faster and funnier pace.) I saw Peter do a burlesque run of one of the seduction scenes in Tartuffe, and I’ve seen Ted do it in his acting class, too, but an open scene is a more extreme version of that.

Amina and I discussed, afterwards, what the uses of the “open scene” would be in working on a process with professional actors. We thought of three:
– at the beginning of a process
– at a blocked place in a process
– at an exhausted place (like you’ve been rehearsing a very sad scene for weeks)
All three to help relax the actors, get them listening again, and perhaps discover new areas of blocking.

Amina is considering Converging in February, as is David (her roommate, a filmmaker and actor).

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directing, the chorus

Decomportlandressing

Back from a very, very whirlwind Portland, where I saw Chris Coleman’s production of CABARET at PCS and did the chorus/Flatland workshop, and pitched Matt & Ben. As usual, Jessica & the Many Hats folks were fantastic.

It was a challenging but good workshop. It was easier than we had expected to get people to be triangles and Pentagons – Jessica led some character “drafts” sessions that reminded me of commedia work, where everyone works on being one character together –
“Two Squares greet each other crossing in the street.”
“Little Squares playing in the schoolyard.”
She’s so good.
But despite her help, it was infinitely harder than I had dreamed to see how it integrated with the text.

I’m starting to realize that using the improvised chorus like a jazz method is going to be as hard, if not harder, than “blocking” – since good improvisation with structure needs just as much attention to detail. I got kind of discouraged at that realization, but am trying to stay positive.

The actors liked the text. They particularly connected to the “Code of Women” and the restrictions the Victorian era placed on them. And Michael Rohd came to observe the end of it – good to finally meet him. But I still feel very exhausted at the idea of the massive amount of work that staging FLATLAND would be.

I may just be worn out from my delayed flight the next day. I was late to the understudy rehearsal and only arrived in time for half an hour of work with Joan. Rebecca and Heather ran lines, and that was helpful for her, but I still feel like I screwed that up. Remind me to never again fly on the same day I have another commitment – ever?

I did, however, really enjoy getting to be specific with Joan. Even half an hour of good work with someone makes ten hours of airports and trains seem worth it.

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directing

the nature of the beast

I’m at 2319 today, working on the projects from yesterday: the poem for Ellen and FLATLAND. I gave Shiyan a sample FLATLAND pitch in the car.

I find myself wanting to leave certain concepts in the realm of FLATLAND pleasantly vague, to be worked on “in the room” – at the same time knowing that I’m never going to get into “the room” unless they are clearer.

In order to convince people that you can direct something, you have to have very clear ideas. You have to describe the show as if it were finished. You need to be able to convince (with some degree of truth) a group of producers that you can bring, out of thin air, the exact show you describe, with very little variation.

In order to actually direct it, you have to be able to discard those ideas entirely, in favor of the best and most original impulses generated in the room. You use verbs like “play” and phrases like “let’s try it.”

Your designers have gone forward based on your (original) clear ideas, which are now modified. You have to keep them, and everyone, able to move forward with their work (which means making choices) while trying to be open to the best work possible (which means making changes.)

Then, just at the last minute, you have to find some accord between those impulses and your ideas – between changes and choices – between the designers and the play, between the reality and the dream of it.

And then you get to do it all over again.

This process of indecision is actually one of the best things about theater. It forces all participants to abandon their egos in favor of the best ideas in the room. When it doesn’t work, it’s either a hollow shell of control or an incoherent mess.

You have to let it stay messy as long as you can.

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directing, theater

If you were me, and you were in New York:

You should probably be at the October meeting of the Director-Choreographer Network, where they’re going to discuss the LCT Directors’ Lab and the Drama League Directors’ Project Fellowship Program.

6-7:30 pm, SCDF, 1501 Broadway, Suite 1701, NYC.
Reservations required. Free. RSVP: foundation @ ssdc.org

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directing, theater

Matt and Ben

The script of Matt and Ben, the play about Damon and Affleck as written and played by two women, just arrived via UPS. These are the opening words:

(The stage is dark.)
MATT. It’s stealing!
BEN. Adaptation is the highest form of flattery!
MATT. Imitation?
BEN. Yes, Imitation. Adaptation. Yes.

So maybe this is how we can have theater with common cultural references – theater about celebrities, instead of about politicians. Instead of Henry 4 and King Louis.

And this experiment in representing celebrities without actually representing them – not impersonating, not even trying to cast close to them, deliberate cross-racial and cross-gender casting – lends itself so well to theater.

It’s not about re-presentation. It’s not about competing with film.
It’s a form of art and of satire that can only exist on stage.

I love it.

From Sam French’s ridiculously detailed prop lists:
“Large bakery cupcake with vanilla icing (1 per show, should be approximately 3 inches in diameter. If not available, improvise with a large corn muffin and a can of frosting)”

If not available? When is a cupcake not available, after the Cupcake Craze of 2006? One can only hope that at some future time in the universe a cupcake will not be available.

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directing, yes, friendblog

The Unteachable

Trevor Biship, who directed Larry Kramer’s JUST SAY NO at NOTE last year, is teaching undergraduate directing at Cal State Long Beach this fall. I’ve asked him to keep Planet Style apprised of his, and his students’, revelations on the nature of teaching and learning directing as they progress.

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directing, employment

A Life In The Theatre

Got in the Denham app for LYDIA, and Toby and I are brainstorming about doing German together this summer in Middlebury.

Mary Orr Denham is perhaps best known for her first short story, entitled “The Wisdom of Eve,” upon which the Oscar-winning film “All About Eve” was based. She sold the story to Cosmopolitan for $800 and it was published in the May 1946 issue. Ms. Orr married the director Reginald Denham in 1947 and together they wrote four plays that opened on Broadway. Ms. Orr also had a successful acting career, appearing in many Broadway plays, including The Desperate Hours in 1955. A longtime resident of Manhattan, Ms. Orr passed away in September 2006 at the age of 95.

Looking at this now I wish I had made some reference in the app to Mary being a hybrid artist herself, but hopefully it’ll work out by context. Les doights crossed.

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