In case you wanted to put some faces to my descriptions of the people in my programme, here is a side project created by RM and LF that was filmed this past week. A mockumentary of what we go through in our programme. Enjoy friends. And if I don't write again till the new year...Happy Christmas!
We begin the new term with a month in LONDON! at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. Oh the stories to come...
http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fvimeo.com%2F33804961&h=fAQFlgIkH
Thinking of you x
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Just to Clarify...I'm Awesome. But It Doesn't Matter. Right.
Saturday's day trip to Edinburgh was exactly what I needed. Being outside in the chilly air with lots of distractions helped both the pains in my chest and the chronic disappointment of Friday's news. Edinburgh is a gothic city that's magical under the dusting of snow. They have a german and scottish xmas market that sells handmade crafts, xmas stuff, bratwurst and fried cheese, and tons of mulled wine and spirits. We bought touristy scottish stuff, found the BEST vintage shop I've ever seen where I forced myself not to buy a 20GBP mink handmuff, and ate lunch at an american diner. Before you balk, I might also add that I ate a scottish breakfast there that included blood sausage and haggis, so you can forgive me for the american cliche. Afterwards we went to the ChocolateSoup cafe where Angie ordered me a shot of chocolate. As you can see from the photo it's basically an orgasm in a cup. Literally chocolate soup. And oh. so. good.
Sunday was spent quietly in my room resting and finding perspective. More of the former than the latter.
And today was the day of productive uselessness. Meaning I ran a billion errands only to find that most I didn't need to do in the first place. I received a phone call a long time ago about needing to get tax exempt but that my address was not in their system so I needed to make my way to their offices. I went there today to find that the council tax office is basically our version of the DMV. Wait for your number to be called, get hit on by strange man in beanie, etc. When my number was finally called the lady behind the desk told me that I didn't need to come in at all because since I live in student housing, the building itself is already exempt which is why it's not in the system. Thank you lady. Thanks oodles.
Second I found my bus stop that i'll need to go to the airport. After walking a bit in circles I discovered that it's about four blocks from my flat. Awesome.
Then I went to the bank (cue ominous music), oh yes, the bloody bank again. Got my questions answered with very little trouble but wishing they'dve answered the question weeks ago when I first asked it.
THEN I went to try to buy tickets to the Sleeping Beauty Ballet for next saturday only to find that the box office for that theatre is actually at a theatre a ways down the road. whuh? Forget it, I'll eat the booking fee and order online.
Now today all I was scheduled for was a meeting at 2pm and then a Chekhov tutorial at 745 tonight. I got to school early, played some piano and wandered downstairs with my Sweet Potato and oregano soup. Found M.Saunders in the hall where he said, oh the meeting has been moved till tomorrow. I think he felt bad that I'd come all the way in to school (and I wasn't going to tell him I had been around anyway) and so he bumped my tutorial which is scheduled for tomorrow and instead sat me down then and there to talk about my progress with the term.
I thought to myself, "Self. Here it comes. Clarification and critique. I am ready." ...well. I sort of got clarification. And got nowhere near critique. Apparently I am doing above and beyond well. Allow me to break it down for you.
He found my One Night in Iran performance "strong, direct, focused. Believable. I really listened to my partner. I show wonderful growth. And am performing exactly as the programme dictates."
Me: Great. ...uh. No complaints? Criticism? Qualms?
Mark: Nope.
Me:...ok. Well perhaps my audition was not very good, Mark?
Mark: Well, let me check my notes on it... Ah yes. I wrote, "great choice in piece. Great grasp on language. Very strong. perhaps a bit fast but was very clear and concise. great command. And there was a light in her eyes."
Me:...ok. That's it?
Mark: Aye.
Me:...Right.
Mark: And your first term paper was very good. About where it should be. very positive. next time put in a few more sources.
Me: ok...um. So, I'm on track then.
Mark: Oh yes. You always show exemplary work.
Me: ...
Mark: Ok. Well that's about it, then.
Me: Wait. I have a question.
Mark: Absolutely.
Me: Normally I would NEVER ask this but since we are in an educational setting I feel it may be alright. Since there are no complaints about how I've been showing and since you wrote in the casting for the renaissance that there are to be great challenges for each of us regardless of part...may I ask how you'd like to see me challenged in the role of midwife?
Mark: (this is me paraphrasing) Well, there technically is no midwife in the show so I don't really know what it will be. but it goes along with the director's theme that he'd like to deal with "birth and death". And you will be playing a few of the smaller roles. So your challenge will be to create more than one full character and life. To be able to switch from each and mold yourself into different people.
Me: Uh-huh. Ok. Then may I ask you a demographic question? Perhaps I am casting myself in incorrect or unrealistic ways. If it isn't my talent or attitude that prevents me from getting any leads, is it an external reason? Would I be more castable if, for instance, I were half my size? (knowing full well that regardless of what his answer would be, I wouldnt intentionally change a damn thing about myself. but I wanted to know if in his opinion I was shooting for the moon here).
He sat for a minute, head tilted, eyes to the ceiling, thinking. Finally he said,
Mark: Is this your normal size?
Me: Yes.
Mark: You need to stay exactly as you are.
...ok. He didn't really answer the question now, did he? the slippery little...
But it was a good answer. And he's absolutely right. I am enough as I am.
So. To sum up the meeting. I am awesome. I have talent. I am enough. ...but I wasn't what they were looking for for certain parts. ...ok. I feel a little better in that I now know that I didn't do anything wrong. It wasn't for the lack of trying or any shortcoming beyond my control. It was just the way the cookie crumbles. Right. Ok. Do I like it? No. But can I now accept it and move on? Absolutely.
Will I be the best midwife you've ever seen? You're damn right.
...I wonder if I can work in the line "But Miss Duchess! I don't know nuthin' bout deliverin' no baybees!!" (Gone With the Wind reference for those of you who are special). Or better yet, maybe I can set up a way to cannon the babies out of her like using those air cannons that they shoot t-shirts out of at baseball games and then catch them with a baseball glove...
See people? I'm already full of ideas. :)
Thinking of you x
Saturday, December 10, 2011
The Way the Cookie Crumbles.
Ok. So it wasn't the greatest of days...I cringe a bit to tell you about it. I promised I'd be honest. And sometimes, honest isn't always pretty. And the trick is how to be honest without sounding like an ass...let's see if I can manage it.
Fred Astaire had his first screen test and this is what was said about him:
"Can't act. Can't sing. Balding. Can dance a little."
And look how far he got.
I remind myself of this everytime I feel like I've made a mistake by trying to be an actor. I remind myself of this because, as I've said before, this business is not fair. Sometimes your best isn't enough. Or sometimes, no matter what you give, it isn't what they're looking for.
The cast list for our renaissance piece went up. A project we will be working six weeks on in the late winter and the only large classical thing we do. I came here mostly to work on classics. And...well...let's just say the casting didn't go as I had hoped for myself. And I'm struggling to think of Astaire.
It's sad to think that one silly show can make you reevaluate whatever course you are on. It's weak to let the decision of two directors make you lose even an inkling of faith in yourself. But it happens.
I have been doing well. I have been working hard. I have done my best to be as generous as possible. And, my friends, today it was not enough. It was not what they wanted. And despite my best efforts, I cannot help but ask why.
However, thinking how I could have done better will only poison whatever good I've had here. And there has been a LOT of good. I am a good actor. Not despite my defects and flaws both internally and externally, but for them in tandem with my strengths. I will allow myself the disappointment, but then I will move the eff on. Because for whatever reason, these are the cards I'm meant to play. And therefore I will play the best damn hand you've ever seen. I will be happy and proud of the rest of my cohort. I AM happy for them, incredibly so. And I will support them. I will let this go. Because I refuse to be one of those actors that whines and bitches about where she Thinks she should be. And who knows? Maybe this role will turn into the best I've ever done. It could happen. The first show I ever did I stole the show...and I was passed out for most of it.
But I find I was a bit blind sided this time. So for tonight, I'm going to be disappointed.
I think what I dread the most is the pity, for lack of a better word. Somehow it makes it worse. But I know very well it comes from love and genuine concern.
In other news, and oh yes the day just wasn't one of my best, I had probably the largest panic attack yet. This morning was fine but we had another voice session that concentrates on deep breathing. Well...my body didn't like that much. By end of class I was hiding tears and had the worst chest pain throughout the day. I'm thinking it's time to see someone about it. Sigh.
I ended the week of classes with the brilliant Rona Munro though. This process of working with her and director PB and group has been truly wonderful. Despite whatever ailments I've been annoyingly going through, I have felt creative and inspired and had many laughs. So thank you: LM, AK, SM, AL, NB, KT.
And that pretty much concludes Term 1 of grad school. Next week is just a few tutorials and meetings and that's it. Hopefully I'll rest up and play a bit and enjoy the chill in the air. It may sound like a bit of a low note to end on, but truly this has been one of the best experiences of my life. I wouldn't trade any of it for the world.
Thinking of you x
Fred Astaire had his first screen test and this is what was said about him:
"Can't act. Can't sing. Balding. Can dance a little."
And look how far he got.
I remind myself of this everytime I feel like I've made a mistake by trying to be an actor. I remind myself of this because, as I've said before, this business is not fair. Sometimes your best isn't enough. Or sometimes, no matter what you give, it isn't what they're looking for.
The cast list for our renaissance piece went up. A project we will be working six weeks on in the late winter and the only large classical thing we do. I came here mostly to work on classics. And...well...let's just say the casting didn't go as I had hoped for myself. And I'm struggling to think of Astaire.
It's sad to think that one silly show can make you reevaluate whatever course you are on. It's weak to let the decision of two directors make you lose even an inkling of faith in yourself. But it happens.
I have been doing well. I have been working hard. I have done my best to be as generous as possible. And, my friends, today it was not enough. It was not what they wanted. And despite my best efforts, I cannot help but ask why.
However, thinking how I could have done better will only poison whatever good I've had here. And there has been a LOT of good. I am a good actor. Not despite my defects and flaws both internally and externally, but for them in tandem with my strengths. I will allow myself the disappointment, but then I will move the eff on. Because for whatever reason, these are the cards I'm meant to play. And therefore I will play the best damn hand you've ever seen. I will be happy and proud of the rest of my cohort. I AM happy for them, incredibly so. And I will support them. I will let this go. Because I refuse to be one of those actors that whines and bitches about where she Thinks she should be. And who knows? Maybe this role will turn into the best I've ever done. It could happen. The first show I ever did I stole the show...and I was passed out for most of it.
But I find I was a bit blind sided this time. So for tonight, I'm going to be disappointed.
I think what I dread the most is the pity, for lack of a better word. Somehow it makes it worse. But I know very well it comes from love and genuine concern.
In other news, and oh yes the day just wasn't one of my best, I had probably the largest panic attack yet. This morning was fine but we had another voice session that concentrates on deep breathing. Well...my body didn't like that much. By end of class I was hiding tears and had the worst chest pain throughout the day. I'm thinking it's time to see someone about it. Sigh.
I ended the week of classes with the brilliant Rona Munro though. This process of working with her and director PB and group has been truly wonderful. Despite whatever ailments I've been annoyingly going through, I have felt creative and inspired and had many laughs. So thank you: LM, AK, SM, AL, NB, KT.
And that pretty much concludes Term 1 of grad school. Next week is just a few tutorials and meetings and that's it. Hopefully I'll rest up and play a bit and enjoy the chill in the air. It may sound like a bit of a low note to end on, but truly this has been one of the best experiences of my life. I wouldn't trade any of it for the world.
Thinking of you x
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
The Little Mermaid Collects Disability
The fairy tales continue in rehearsals. We spend each day bringing in new myths and old stories our parents used to read us when we were little and then we improvise a 21st century version. I have to say, it's been a helluva lot of fun. The group I'm in becomes increasingly comedic and we've laughed most of time. The idea from Rona is that she wants to integrate a little magic or put a spin on a fairy tale but have that magic be completely accepted by all those in the play.
For example: In the Little Mermaid (not the disney, but like the real one told by Hans Christian Andersen) she falls in love with the prince but he marries someone else and she dies and becomes foam upon the waves. And while she was human, everytime she walked, it would feel like she were walking on knives.
In our version, the prince does leave her for someone else, but she goes on living. However, she can't get work because of her leg pain so she goes to the D.S.S office to try to collect disability. We improvved a scene between her and the insurance agent. It was both hilarious and heart breaking to watch her try to show proof that she was once a mermaid. The comedy came from the fact that it wasn't the proof that mermaids exist that was needed but that she needed to prove that she was one. She begged the worker to ask her anything, to quiz her about the ocean, to have her name any lobster or crab. And the worker told her to fill out forms and make another appt. It was scarily realistic in that all you had to do was substitute all mermaid words for real ailments and it would have played exactly the same.
We did the same exercise with Orpheus and Euridice. But instead of Orpheus going down to the underworld to bring back his wife Euridice, we had him trying to bail her out of jail. Same goes for snow white, cinderella, the 12 dancing princesses, beauty and the beast, the six swans, etc.
So entertaining and Rona has been delightful to work with. She'd let us improv for hours if PB would let her. She genuinely loves to play and she loves getting to know us. It's reassuring that whatever writing comes from her will be personal and just for us.
On a more troublesome note, I had cut out caffeine since last friday and had stopped taking whatever sleeping pills I had to try to cut the panic attacks and thought it had begun to work. This morning started out well with a dance class that was hysterical. But then about noon I started to get that now familiar pressure in my chest. By the programme meeting at 1pm I felt like my heart was going to implode, and by 2pm at end of lunch I almost began to hyperventilate. Scared me for a minute. But I got it undercontrol with a bit of help from LM. I find that with a bit of pressure to the slight left and right of my spine and it eases off. It was still a bit tight for a few hours after that and even now I can still feel it. But it's better. (Mom, I can hear you worrying from here. Really it's no biggy. I'll rest when I'm home for xmas and I'm sure it'll pass.) It's just annoying because, as I said, I'm not stressed. I'm happy. So there's really no reason for this nonesense.
Random fact to brighten the mood. Once in a while I'll hear AK in my group say, "oh no, I can't read that I don't have my glasses." which she rarely wears. I asked her today if it bothers her and she said, "oh I like it. Everyone is so beautiful because I see everyone in soft focus." Only AK. Love. Her.
That's about it for the past two days. It's the last week of actual work (next week is just a formality with tutorials). Then a few days to hang out in Glasgow and just play. Then the long ass flight to Seattle. Sigh. For once I wish I could slow time.
Thinking of you.
x
For example: In the Little Mermaid (not the disney, but like the real one told by Hans Christian Andersen) she falls in love with the prince but he marries someone else and she dies and becomes foam upon the waves. And while she was human, everytime she walked, it would feel like she were walking on knives.
In our version, the prince does leave her for someone else, but she goes on living. However, she can't get work because of her leg pain so she goes to the D.S.S office to try to collect disability. We improvved a scene between her and the insurance agent. It was both hilarious and heart breaking to watch her try to show proof that she was once a mermaid. The comedy came from the fact that it wasn't the proof that mermaids exist that was needed but that she needed to prove that she was one. She begged the worker to ask her anything, to quiz her about the ocean, to have her name any lobster or crab. And the worker told her to fill out forms and make another appt. It was scarily realistic in that all you had to do was substitute all mermaid words for real ailments and it would have played exactly the same.
We did the same exercise with Orpheus and Euridice. But instead of Orpheus going down to the underworld to bring back his wife Euridice, we had him trying to bail her out of jail. Same goes for snow white, cinderella, the 12 dancing princesses, beauty and the beast, the six swans, etc.
So entertaining and Rona has been delightful to work with. She'd let us improv for hours if PB would let her. She genuinely loves to play and she loves getting to know us. It's reassuring that whatever writing comes from her will be personal and just for us.
On a more troublesome note, I had cut out caffeine since last friday and had stopped taking whatever sleeping pills I had to try to cut the panic attacks and thought it had begun to work. This morning started out well with a dance class that was hysterical. But then about noon I started to get that now familiar pressure in my chest. By the programme meeting at 1pm I felt like my heart was going to implode, and by 2pm at end of lunch I almost began to hyperventilate. Scared me for a minute. But I got it undercontrol with a bit of help from LM. I find that with a bit of pressure to the slight left and right of my spine and it eases off. It was still a bit tight for a few hours after that and even now I can still feel it. But it's better. (Mom, I can hear you worrying from here. Really it's no biggy. I'll rest when I'm home for xmas and I'm sure it'll pass.) It's just annoying because, as I said, I'm not stressed. I'm happy. So there's really no reason for this nonesense.
Random fact to brighten the mood. Once in a while I'll hear AK in my group say, "oh no, I can't read that I don't have my glasses." which she rarely wears. I asked her today if it bothers her and she said, "oh I like it. Everyone is so beautiful because I see everyone in soft focus." Only AK. Love. Her.
That's about it for the past two days. It's the last week of actual work (next week is just a formality with tutorials). Then a few days to hang out in Glasgow and just play. Then the long ass flight to Seattle. Sigh. For once I wish I could slow time.
Thinking of you.
x
Monday, December 5, 2011
the Snow, the Uncomfortable, and the Minotaur.
The weekend was quiet. At times boring. And I slept about thirty of the 72 hours. So I'm good. I finished my term paper on Friday and found myself twiddling my thumbs for the first time in months.
Monday brought a new cycle of classes as well as our first snowfall. I love snow...when I'm indoors or when I have proper footwear. I guess the dream of holding off on the galoshes until I get back to the States is not going to happen. It was like ice skating through slush trying to get to class. And we all know how well I have been getting along with Glasgow's streets (see mountain goat blog for details). But it's beautiful here. And feels more like home. Which I'm trying to avoid since I can't stay. I keep telling myself (and it's probably true) that the feeling of home that I feel is because I am happy doing what I love with like minded individuals. I am happy if I'm surrounded by theatre and film. That, I am positive of now. The feeling of contentment does not come from a perfect day because trust me there is plenty of frustration and emotional turmoil here. But the big picture is feeling useful, capable, and creative. It's growing from the Uncomfortable and the Scary.
Class started with our final yoga session with Rosina. I wish this lady taught us every day. Although there was a particular position that she bent me into that I'm not sure any human body should be able to do. It resembled a soft pretzel that you smashed into a ball. ...ouchy.
Then we trudged our way off campus to the UK studios for our first session with Rona Munro. This week is the Development stage of the process. It will involve a lot of Rona getting to know us as well as tons of improvisation. Sigh. Alas, I am getting better at it but my stomach still lurches at the thought. Surprisingly though, Rona was absolutely lovely. We did some play games that were something a little elementary but because of that, we could do it without thought or fear. We played "witches, giants, and gnomes" which is kind of like group tag. And played a listening game where we told a partner a scary experience we had then after two minutes had to tell their story to the class. We then shared with each other one object that defines us, one environment that scares us, and one childhood memory. For instance, my object was my silver cross that I take with me everywhere that helps me with stage fright, my scary environment would be to be buried alive, and my childhood memory was building our tree house on the bluff. We then mix up everyone's answers and select three that aren't ours and create a character from them.
Example: PB is afraid of hospitals. AK's object is a stuffed bunny rabbit. SM's childhood memory is when she gouged her foot on the beach once.
I then take those answers and created my character: Lauren (Lo) Scougall. She's 12. She's in the hospital because she broke her arm rollerskating and is nervous because her parents are in the waiting room and her mom forgot to bring her comfort toy- a stuffed bunny named "bunnytugs." She has an older brother who's 14 but he's a turd. The only other time she'd been in hospitals was when she cut her foot open on a seashell at the beach and it bled everywhere. Her favorite color is purple. Her dad works in computers and her mom is the secretary at her school. etc.
And it goes on and on. All these extra answers come out when Rona puts your character (you) in a chair and plays HOT SPOT. Basically, people fire questions at you about who you are and how you got to where you are. And on impulse you start answering whatever they shoot at you. I find that I took most of my answers from either my real life or from people I know. A lie, or in this case, a building of character is always more believable when based half in truth. Ten minutes later, you have your new role.
It was a nice way to jump start the imagination. And we had some serious laughs. At one point, LM created a werewolf hunter who was after killing his father (who was a werewolf) because he bit his sister. You know...realistic stuff like that. :) But Rona lovvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvves the magick. She loves to put all kinds of mystical things in. I made a joke when I first found that she was our writer that I just know I'm going to have to flit around like a fairy or centaur at some point...well, today she mentioned Minotaurs. Centaurs, minotaurs...close enough. Can't wait to see where this one goes. I feel like it will never be a dull moment. Which I kind of like. I find, for the most part, that the people in my group are up for anything. I love that most of them have this amazing gift of Play. And they'll hold on to an exercise and stick with it as long as the writer and director ask. That takes stamina and a beautiful sense of "why not? eff it!"
As for outside life (not that there is much of one), I'm still doing very well. I did have my first pangs of loneliness today. Don't know what for, but I acknowledge it's there. But I am still very fulfilled and happy.
Home in two weeks...whoa.
Monday brought a new cycle of classes as well as our first snowfall. I love snow...when I'm indoors or when I have proper footwear. I guess the dream of holding off on the galoshes until I get back to the States is not going to happen. It was like ice skating through slush trying to get to class. And we all know how well I have been getting along with Glasgow's streets (see mountain goat blog for details). But it's beautiful here. And feels more like home. Which I'm trying to avoid since I can't stay. I keep telling myself (and it's probably true) that the feeling of home that I feel is because I am happy doing what I love with like minded individuals. I am happy if I'm surrounded by theatre and film. That, I am positive of now. The feeling of contentment does not come from a perfect day because trust me there is plenty of frustration and emotional turmoil here. But the big picture is feeling useful, capable, and creative. It's growing from the Uncomfortable and the Scary.
Class started with our final yoga session with Rosina. I wish this lady taught us every day. Although there was a particular position that she bent me into that I'm not sure any human body should be able to do. It resembled a soft pretzel that you smashed into a ball. ...ouchy.
Then we trudged our way off campus to the UK studios for our first session with Rona Munro. This week is the Development stage of the process. It will involve a lot of Rona getting to know us as well as tons of improvisation. Sigh. Alas, I am getting better at it but my stomach still lurches at the thought. Surprisingly though, Rona was absolutely lovely. We did some play games that were something a little elementary but because of that, we could do it without thought or fear. We played "witches, giants, and gnomes" which is kind of like group tag. And played a listening game where we told a partner a scary experience we had then after two minutes had to tell their story to the class. We then shared with each other one object that defines us, one environment that scares us, and one childhood memory. For instance, my object was my silver cross that I take with me everywhere that helps me with stage fright, my scary environment would be to be buried alive, and my childhood memory was building our tree house on the bluff. We then mix up everyone's answers and select three that aren't ours and create a character from them.
Example: PB is afraid of hospitals. AK's object is a stuffed bunny rabbit. SM's childhood memory is when she gouged her foot on the beach once.
I then take those answers and created my character: Lauren (Lo) Scougall. She's 12. She's in the hospital because she broke her arm rollerskating and is nervous because her parents are in the waiting room and her mom forgot to bring her comfort toy- a stuffed bunny named "bunnytugs." She has an older brother who's 14 but he's a turd. The only other time she'd been in hospitals was when she cut her foot open on a seashell at the beach and it bled everywhere. Her favorite color is purple. Her dad works in computers and her mom is the secretary at her school. etc.
And it goes on and on. All these extra answers come out when Rona puts your character (you) in a chair and plays HOT SPOT. Basically, people fire questions at you about who you are and how you got to where you are. And on impulse you start answering whatever they shoot at you. I find that I took most of my answers from either my real life or from people I know. A lie, or in this case, a building of character is always more believable when based half in truth. Ten minutes later, you have your new role.
It was a nice way to jump start the imagination. And we had some serious laughs. At one point, LM created a werewolf hunter who was after killing his father (who was a werewolf) because he bit his sister. You know...realistic stuff like that. :) But Rona lovvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvves the magick. She loves to put all kinds of mystical things in. I made a joke when I first found that she was our writer that I just know I'm going to have to flit around like a fairy or centaur at some point...well, today she mentioned Minotaurs. Centaurs, minotaurs...close enough. Can't wait to see where this one goes. I feel like it will never be a dull moment. Which I kind of like. I find, for the most part, that the people in my group are up for anything. I love that most of them have this amazing gift of Play. And they'll hold on to an exercise and stick with it as long as the writer and director ask. That takes stamina and a beautiful sense of "why not? eff it!"
As for outside life (not that there is much of one), I'm still doing very well. I did have my first pangs of loneliness today. Don't know what for, but I acknowledge it's there. But I am still very fulfilled and happy.
Home in two weeks...whoa.
Friday, December 2, 2011
I Feel Like I Should Be Drinking or Something.
After a week like this, I feel like I should be drinking or something. In celebration, in exhaustion, for fun, because it's Friday or because I finished my term paper. Any and all these reasons will do. But perhaps peace and quiet will do more good.
The performance went well today. All around. I have to say I was really impressed with all of us. It came together well and I hope everyone realises how great they were.
For me, personally, I can't complain. I got through it and was happy with almost everything I did. (With the exception of flubbing the one line I told myself not to flub. Always happens. Meh.) But I never called for line, I invested in my scene partner KT, and I walked out of the room feeling good. Couldn't ask for more in this instance.
The directors then went to their little room to fight over us for the actual project that tours next end of summer/fall. The rest of us went for a rather large beer and sustenance. The unwinding was well needed and afterwards I wandered through a shop or two to get some xmas ideas.
On Glaswegian Radio, two young girls were singing "O Holy Night" outside on Sauchiehall Street.
I got home to an email waiting with the cast list. My writer is Rona Munro. She has written for tv/film/theatre (including some at the Royal Shakespeare Company). She often puts a bit of magic in whatever she writes so I'll be excited to see what she comes up with for us.
My director is PB. I couldn't be more thrilled. I know I'll feel safe and confident with him.
And my group is going to be solid. There are seven of us. Four girls, three guys. Among the girls are AK and SM (see previous "thankful" blog) so you know I'm definitely spoiled already. The other girl (AL) is beyond awesome as well and has the most evil infectious laugh, awesome dance moves, a sick sense of humor, and the brightest wardrobe I've ever seen. She's guaranteed to have us all laughing constantly (will give her a better description once I get to know her better). It's going to be good.
I wish I could write more but I'm completely wiped. More details and intros of friends to come. This weekend I hope to shove in a movie, maybe start term paper #2 (unlikely) and possibly tea and shopping. ...or i'll just hibernate in my room and attempt to sleep a full 48 hours. Either way, happy happy times.
x
The performance went well today. All around. I have to say I was really impressed with all of us. It came together well and I hope everyone realises how great they were.
For me, personally, I can't complain. I got through it and was happy with almost everything I did. (With the exception of flubbing the one line I told myself not to flub. Always happens. Meh.) But I never called for line, I invested in my scene partner KT, and I walked out of the room feeling good. Couldn't ask for more in this instance.
The directors then went to their little room to fight over us for the actual project that tours next end of summer/fall. The rest of us went for a rather large beer and sustenance. The unwinding was well needed and afterwards I wandered through a shop or two to get some xmas ideas.
On Glaswegian Radio, two young girls were singing "O Holy Night" outside on Sauchiehall Street.
I got home to an email waiting with the cast list. My writer is Rona Munro. She has written for tv/film/theatre (including some at the Royal Shakespeare Company). She often puts a bit of magic in whatever she writes so I'll be excited to see what she comes up with for us.
My director is PB. I couldn't be more thrilled. I know I'll feel safe and confident with him.
And my group is going to be solid. There are seven of us. Four girls, three guys. Among the girls are AK and SM (see previous "thankful" blog) so you know I'm definitely spoiled already. The other girl (AL) is beyond awesome as well and has the most evil infectious laugh, awesome dance moves, a sick sense of humor, and the brightest wardrobe I've ever seen. She's guaranteed to have us all laughing constantly (will give her a better description once I get to know her better). It's going to be good.
I wish I could write more but I'm completely wiped. More details and intros of friends to come. This weekend I hope to shove in a movie, maybe start term paper #2 (unlikely) and possibly tea and shopping. ...or i'll just hibernate in my room and attempt to sleep a full 48 hours. Either way, happy happy times.
x
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Graceful Like a Mountain Goat.
So twice I have battled the streets of Glasgow and lost. The first time, I was walking with a bunch of friends to the train station and my heel got caught in the crack in the sidewalk. Smack. On all fours on wet pavement. The second time was coming out of rehearsal on one of the stormiest days I've seen here. The steps were slick, polished marble. Who makes marble steps in a place that rains more than Seattle, I don't know. But I hope that guy gets boils on his butt. Because there I was, exhausted from rehearsal...step, step, SPLAT! On all fours once again. Graceful, I am. Like a mountain goat. I hate wet streaks all up my new pair of jeans. But whatever. I shall conquer you, you mean streets. You shall see. Just wait till I invest in some good wellies (golashes), and we'll see who gets the last laugh. I've also managed to thwack the top of my foot on the corner of the closet in my room. My legs are now battle zones.
It's been almost a week since I've written. Mostly because I've been too mentally exhausted to bother. Saturday was brilliant in that we saw a free lecture about Panto theatre and it was headed up by Alan Cumming. I. LOVE. Alan Cumming. And he was as charming and lovely as I remembered. He performed along with some other really incredible Scottish actors and though I only understood about 60% of what they said, that 60% was very funny.
Afterwards we fought the wind and rain to get to LF's house for our late thanksgiving. It was absolutely lovely. (See fb photos for pics). SO much food and so much laughs. I did a few chinese grama impressions, the pumpkin bars were a hit, and we picked names for secret santa. About 25-30 people mulled around for hours and we introduced the non-americans to the glory of overeating.
As for this week, I started to go to morning warm up again- thanks to our director's request. I am very glad I have. I'm starting to feel a bit better physically. We barely see the sun now. It's dark by four and we've all been feeling a bit lethargic from the lack of vitamin D. The warm ups have also been helping a little with some anxiety I've been having. I don't quite understand it. I'm not overly stressed, I love what I'm doing, even when I'm bitching I'm still happy (oddly enough). But I get these moments where I can't breath and my heart feels like it's being squeezed. I've lost quite a bit of sleep lately because right before I go to bed is when it's the worst. So weird.
Rehearsals themselves have been quite good. It's been weird working the entire week on a script that has only two people in it. For the first three days, all I really saw were my scene partner KT and the director PB. Not that I'm complaining. We've worked in a way that is very much the style I prefer. On your feet, discover as you go, stop when there's questions and repeat. PB is great in that I feel like he has an opinion and knows how to articulate it, but he also wants us to think for ourselves. I think he knows that in order for us to be good, we must connect the dots in our heads to justify our actions. I sometimes have to catch myself from being too opinionated though. Must always remember, director is in charge.
I've missed the rest of the group though. It's been so odd not having lunches with them in the cafe and not knowing what is going on in each other's lives.
On Monday, however, I did go to the Playwright's studio's Stage-to-Page night. One of our cohort, RM, submitted a piece of his work that he wrote and it was being workshopped. Now I've voiced my opinion enough on how disappointed I was in how that workshop was run so I won't bother getting riled up again.
But I will tell you a little about RM.
RM is a talented young actor/writer. He understands comedy, subtlety, and metaphor. And I'll be happy if I get to be apart of anything he produces in the future.
That being said, he has this awesome podcast (shameless plug) that he posts on Sundays. On Wednesday I had the pleasure of recording a monologue for him for the next installment. He's always got something going on in that head of his. He's got great taste in music, can find the funniest stuff on youtube, and best yet, he has the silveriest (not a word, but I made it into one) voice. In the first few weeks when we did our intro to voice class and he recited some shakespearean text at full voice...yeah...all the girls in the class melted. Like, literally. I'll admit I don't know him very well yet. We never seem to be put in the same groupings. But from what I gather he's very smart, a little shy, and yet not afraid to harmlessly flirt with anyone. When we went to Loch Lomond together with MM, he had such an appreciation for beauty and a sweet curiosity that made the day easy and relaxed. And there was one day when I felt the absolute worst about myself, and he managed to put it all in perspective with a simple email. What was pear-shaped turned right again because of his honesty.
I enjoy watching his acting, as well; it's that subtelty again. If you watch him closely, he'll break your heart. Even while he makes you laugh. I hope I get to work with him more.
Back to the project and script we've been working on. Tomorrow is another performance day. I'll admit I'm more nervous for this one than I've been for any of the others. It's not about the content anymore. Somewhere along the week I became completely comfortable with that. Now it's the lines. I've always had high standards for myself. Even when someone says "oh, no. Don't worry about it too much." or "Just call line." I never want to. Because I know it takes everyone and myself out of it for a moment. There's just something so great about being able to REALLY know a scene and drive it. I'm not as confident with this one. And I want badly for the writers and the directors (including the ones from the renaissance auditions who will be watching) to see what I can do. And that's dangerous. The minute you start worrying about anything other than your scene partner, you're effed. I think that's the toughest thing I've ever had to learn and still fight. It's so easy to go in there and think about your lines, your blocking, your appearance, what everyone else thinks. But that's just selfish and worthless. It's not about me. It's about KT in this instance. It's about what I give him and what he gives me. Give. Receive. Action. Reaction. I find that as long as I focus on that, I will be generous. And I will get the job done.
Wish me luck. Or if nothing else, pray that I am generous, so that I can walk back out of that room knowing that I did my best.
Alright. To bed.
Thinking of you. x
P.s. HOW CAN IT BE DECEMBER ALREADY??????
It's been almost a week since I've written. Mostly because I've been too mentally exhausted to bother. Saturday was brilliant in that we saw a free lecture about Panto theatre and it was headed up by Alan Cumming. I. LOVE. Alan Cumming. And he was as charming and lovely as I remembered. He performed along with some other really incredible Scottish actors and though I only understood about 60% of what they said, that 60% was very funny.
Afterwards we fought the wind and rain to get to LF's house for our late thanksgiving. It was absolutely lovely. (See fb photos for pics). SO much food and so much laughs. I did a few chinese grama impressions, the pumpkin bars were a hit, and we picked names for secret santa. About 25-30 people mulled around for hours and we introduced the non-americans to the glory of overeating.
As for this week, I started to go to morning warm up again- thanks to our director's request. I am very glad I have. I'm starting to feel a bit better physically. We barely see the sun now. It's dark by four and we've all been feeling a bit lethargic from the lack of vitamin D. The warm ups have also been helping a little with some anxiety I've been having. I don't quite understand it. I'm not overly stressed, I love what I'm doing, even when I'm bitching I'm still happy (oddly enough). But I get these moments where I can't breath and my heart feels like it's being squeezed. I've lost quite a bit of sleep lately because right before I go to bed is when it's the worst. So weird.
Rehearsals themselves have been quite good. It's been weird working the entire week on a script that has only two people in it. For the first three days, all I really saw were my scene partner KT and the director PB. Not that I'm complaining. We've worked in a way that is very much the style I prefer. On your feet, discover as you go, stop when there's questions and repeat. PB is great in that I feel like he has an opinion and knows how to articulate it, but he also wants us to think for ourselves. I think he knows that in order for us to be good, we must connect the dots in our heads to justify our actions. I sometimes have to catch myself from being too opinionated though. Must always remember, director is in charge.
I've missed the rest of the group though. It's been so odd not having lunches with them in the cafe and not knowing what is going on in each other's lives.
On Monday, however, I did go to the Playwright's studio's Stage-to-Page night. One of our cohort, RM, submitted a piece of his work that he wrote and it was being workshopped. Now I've voiced my opinion enough on how disappointed I was in how that workshop was run so I won't bother getting riled up again.
But I will tell you a little about RM.
RM is a talented young actor/writer. He understands comedy, subtlety, and metaphor. And I'll be happy if I get to be apart of anything he produces in the future.
That being said, he has this awesome podcast (shameless plug) that he posts on Sundays. On Wednesday I had the pleasure of recording a monologue for him for the next installment. He's always got something going on in that head of his. He's got great taste in music, can find the funniest stuff on youtube, and best yet, he has the silveriest (not a word, but I made it into one) voice. In the first few weeks when we did our intro to voice class and he recited some shakespearean text at full voice...yeah...all the girls in the class melted. Like, literally. I'll admit I don't know him very well yet. We never seem to be put in the same groupings. But from what I gather he's very smart, a little shy, and yet not afraid to harmlessly flirt with anyone. When we went to Loch Lomond together with MM, he had such an appreciation for beauty and a sweet curiosity that made the day easy and relaxed. And there was one day when I felt the absolute worst about myself, and he managed to put it all in perspective with a simple email. What was pear-shaped turned right again because of his honesty.
I enjoy watching his acting, as well; it's that subtelty again. If you watch him closely, he'll break your heart. Even while he makes you laugh. I hope I get to work with him more.
Back to the project and script we've been working on. Tomorrow is another performance day. I'll admit I'm more nervous for this one than I've been for any of the others. It's not about the content anymore. Somewhere along the week I became completely comfortable with that. Now it's the lines. I've always had high standards for myself. Even when someone says "oh, no. Don't worry about it too much." or "Just call line." I never want to. Because I know it takes everyone and myself out of it for a moment. There's just something so great about being able to REALLY know a scene and drive it. I'm not as confident with this one. And I want badly for the writers and the directors (including the ones from the renaissance auditions who will be watching) to see what I can do. And that's dangerous. The minute you start worrying about anything other than your scene partner, you're effed. I think that's the toughest thing I've ever had to learn and still fight. It's so easy to go in there and think about your lines, your blocking, your appearance, what everyone else thinks. But that's just selfish and worthless. It's not about me. It's about KT in this instance. It's about what I give him and what he gives me. Give. Receive. Action. Reaction. I find that as long as I focus on that, I will be generous. And I will get the job done.
Wish me luck. Or if nothing else, pray that I am generous, so that I can walk back out of that room knowing that I did my best.
Alright. To bed.
Thinking of you. x
P.s. HOW CAN IT BE DECEMBER ALREADY??????
Friday, November 25, 2011
THANKFUL. and MEET SOME OF MY FRIENDS.
Alright. I've neglected this blog long enough.
This week, as mentioned in earlier blog, was the carousel of directors and playwrights. We were put into three groups and worked a day and a half with each director on scenes from each of the playwrights, as well as sitting down with the playwrights themselves to get to know them and ask as many questions as we'd like. Intimidating sometimes, lovely all the time.
I'd like to take this opportunity to tell you a little about some members of my cohort. I've been avoiding giving too many details about them because I want to keep this professional and respectful...and I know they read this blog. :) But it's the week of thanksgiving and I'm thankful for these people. And the truth is, I can't really avoid it. They have become too much apart of my life and I have grown to love them very much. It's so rare to have so many people together who truly have the same goal: to make GOOD work. So every so often I think I'll describe a few so that you can really appreciate who I get to be around and feed off of (meant in a non scary uncannibalistic way).
Let's start with the five people that were placed in my group this week.
AK- If you met her, you'd think she was from another world. Like a wood nymph. Ok, yes her scottish brogue and incredibly long curly brown hair may have tipped you off. Or perhaps her ecclectic and vintage collection of dresses and jewelry. I'm telling you, this "look" would never work for anyone but AK. But it isn't any of this. It's not even the fact that she has a degree in Medieval sex (the subject. not the doing). But it's in the twinkle in her green eyes. AK is beautifully generous in both her acting and her affection towards friends. Birthdays and holidays are huge with her. Hugs are, too. And though she may see herself as awkward, I think she's lovely and charming. And scrappy. Underneath all that kindness there's a hint of steel. The kind where she wouldn't bother with a slap or a claw, she'd just whoop your ass properly. She's got the worst circulation I've ever seen and could get cold in a hot house. She has a memory like a steel trap. And I feel good just being around her. She's reliable and quirky. And she loves tuna and banana pizza. ...yeah, I forgive her for that one.
SG- This man is HYSTERICAL. He could give you any information about comic books or dungeons and dragons. He's quick in the mind and just plain adorable. From the first week or so I felt like I knew him before. We never discussed being friends, we just were. He has an awesome wife and two of the cutest little boys ever. The youngest has the best little belly and the eldest has those eyes that if he asked me if he could stay up for five more minutes, I'd always say yes. Good thing I'm not in charge. SG is a wonderful daddy and a truly fun actor. He's playful and has a very good sense of comedic timing. Think three stooges or Laurel and Hardy. He and another girl in our group (AL) are like this dynamic duo that can get all of us busting out at the seams. I always feel supported by SG and feel like if I fell on my face he'd laugh while helping me up, but more importantly he'd make me laugh about it, too. That's what I need, someone to help me laugh at myself and the crap that life chucks at me. He's got a gift for that.
SM- If the toothfairy really did exist, I feel like she'd be like SM. This girl, also scottish, is the kind of person that you'd believe floated in a bubble for fun. She's light as air and...well...silly. In the best sense of the word. If I'm around SM, I verbally vomit anything I'm thinking to her. That's not something I really do. Ever. At least not without effort. But SM will plop herself down next to me, sling her arm around my shoulders, blow her blond fringe from her eyes, and in her soft raspy voice she'll start chattering away. And before I know it, my mood is lighter, I'm giggling, and have lost track of whatever was bothering me. SM is the forgetful sort. And she knows it. Sometimes she'll concentrate so hard on remembering something and when it is a success she'll do a victory fist pump of joy, "I remembered to text them!" You'd think she'd won gold at the olympics. It makes me so happy to be around her. You just feel five years younger. And as an actor, I love watching the wheels turn in her head. And she constantly surprises me with what she comes up with. She's always up for trying anything and is truly here just to become better and to live her dream. It's pure. And it's infectious. It's wonderful.
JS- I've written a bit about him before. He was also my yasha from the tennis ball blog. But this was the first week I really got to work closely with him. The only one of us actually from Glasgow, JS has the best accent I've ever heard. And what's more, he's got the best laugh. He's the type of actor that you trust immediately. And that is SO rare. He's not afraid to get it "wrong" because I think (I hope) he realizes that there is no wrong. Only better. When acting with him, I can count on him to give as good as he gets. Because he's one of the most generous actors I've ever worked with. He keeps a sense of humor, listens, can focus when needed, gives feed back and ideas, and never works in the same way twice. He's one of the few people that make me nervous because I know he's going to challenge me to be better. As a person, he's got a good soul. A dirty mind. And little boy deviousness that reminds me of my charismatic trouble maker cousin, Justin, who could get you to do the craziest shit just by using his brown eyes and a wicked grin. JS is someone you people out there will want to work with. I hope you get the chance.
and finally MAR. This is the guy you go to coffee with when you need someone to understand you. This guy's been through hell and back but still knows how to give. He has an intensity in his acting that is piercing. And he has will that is like a brick wall. MAR is soft hearted and thin skinned, but not push over. You will always know what he is thinking by looking at his face. Something we both have in common. He has an addiction to diet coke and technology. And it's beautiful watching him figure himself out. I can count on MAR to tell his truth. Whether I agree or not, I know that that is what he feels. And I love that. I never have to worry about walking on egg shells around him because I know that if there's a problem, he'll tell me. It's one thing I miss about NY. That mind set of being allowed to be who I am without feeling the need to apologize. I don't ever feel that around MAR. We are who we are. And we like each other for it. He's a gentleman, he's a thinker, and he's a very good friend.
So now you've met a few. Stay tuned for more of them. I'm sure they'll make an appearance.
As for the rest of this past week...I've hit some highs and lows. One of the pieces we rehearsed (One Night in Iran) had me trying to seduce a guy while crawling like a cat across a table that was meant to represent a bed. Despite the shakiness and squeaking of the table, we pulled it off. But it was the one play that made me uncomfortable. Once again hitting insecurities that I just dont want to deal with. ...of course we find out today that we've switched up the groups and will be concentrating the whole of next week on a single play for our presentation on next friday. guess which play i got? ....looks like I'll be reprising my table cat crawl for the head of our dept, the playwrights, the people from Playwrights Studio, and all of my cohort. Awesome. I am very pleased with the director I got though. If anyone can make me sexy, it's this guy. He's a directing genius.
Side note: It's been stormy the past few days but today it was Sunshine and rain at the same time. My favorite. :) The rainbows were an excellent touch to my walk home.
On Wednesday we also had our Renaissance auditions. In the spring we will have two shows that go up in repertory "Measure for Measure" and "the Duchess of Malfi". I believe we'll only be cast in one. My audition went as well as I could have hoped. I tried a new piece (for those of you shakespeare savvy lot, it was Lady Percy from Henry IV part 2). I'm not sure how much the panel was really paying attention seeing as how they were writing in their notebooks most of the time. But all I wanted was to have a good audition and interview and I did. Interviews are hit and miss with me. I never used to have any anxiety with them but ever since I did the Miss WA IOJD pageant in 2001, I've always been a bit hesitant. Never will I forget that interview...
Interviewer: So, Miss Stacy, what's your favorite color and why?
Stacy: Purple. um...uh...because...because...I like plums. Plums are purple. yeah.
oof. ...well it was a stupid question anyway. The least they could have done was give me a question that I could have answer "world peace" to. Ah well. I fooled those suckers, didn't I? Ended up being Miss Congeniality instead. ...it's ok. You can laugh. My whole family did, too. :)
But back to the audition. It was good. In the end though, and I'm glad I finally figured this out, it's not something I have any control over. I pray every time before I go into an audition that I will be able to walk back out of that room knowing I did my very best. And it's enough. But whether I get a part (or THE part) is out of my hands. They may want a 5'8" blond haired skinny Brit for the lead. I'll never be that. But I can control what I do inside that room. It just sucks if you ever get your heart set on a particular role or show. I've been very careful not to do that here. But there's still that bit of me that hopes he's looking for a 5'2" American brunette with curves instead. Won't find out for a couple of weeks. Will keep you posted.
Other than that, it's been just a blur of plays, scenes, and directors. Learning how each work and whether we can in fact work with them. We are all exhausted still but I still have never been happier. I was laying on the floor during a rehearsal today, watching some of my favorite people work a scene, and thinking...there's no where else I'd rather be.
Tonight was filled with long and multiple trips to grocery stores trying to get ingredients to make pumpkin bars for our huge thanksgiving tomorrow. We had class on our actual thanksgiving.
The search was a relative success. p.s. icing sugar=powdered/confectioners sugar. bicarbonate soda= baking soda. they use grams here instead of oz. and cream cheese is called soft cheese. yeah. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Luckily I had LoLo to keep things funny and musical. We finished the night in the communal kitchen; her making a huge vat of mac n' cheese, and me with fairly decent pumpkin bars. Though I wish my mom were here to make them properly. No one does it like momma.
Alright. Three weeks till end of term. And savoring every moment.
Thinking of you x
This week, as mentioned in earlier blog, was the carousel of directors and playwrights. We were put into three groups and worked a day and a half with each director on scenes from each of the playwrights, as well as sitting down with the playwrights themselves to get to know them and ask as many questions as we'd like. Intimidating sometimes, lovely all the time.
I'd like to take this opportunity to tell you a little about some members of my cohort. I've been avoiding giving too many details about them because I want to keep this professional and respectful...and I know they read this blog. :) But it's the week of thanksgiving and I'm thankful for these people. And the truth is, I can't really avoid it. They have become too much apart of my life and I have grown to love them very much. It's so rare to have so many people together who truly have the same goal: to make GOOD work. So every so often I think I'll describe a few so that you can really appreciate who I get to be around and feed off of (meant in a non scary uncannibalistic way).
Let's start with the five people that were placed in my group this week.
AK- If you met her, you'd think she was from another world. Like a wood nymph. Ok, yes her scottish brogue and incredibly long curly brown hair may have tipped you off. Or perhaps her ecclectic and vintage collection of dresses and jewelry. I'm telling you, this "look" would never work for anyone but AK. But it isn't any of this. It's not even the fact that she has a degree in Medieval sex (the subject. not the doing). But it's in the twinkle in her green eyes. AK is beautifully generous in both her acting and her affection towards friends. Birthdays and holidays are huge with her. Hugs are, too. And though she may see herself as awkward, I think she's lovely and charming. And scrappy. Underneath all that kindness there's a hint of steel. The kind where she wouldn't bother with a slap or a claw, she'd just whoop your ass properly. She's got the worst circulation I've ever seen and could get cold in a hot house. She has a memory like a steel trap. And I feel good just being around her. She's reliable and quirky. And she loves tuna and banana pizza. ...yeah, I forgive her for that one.
SG- This man is HYSTERICAL. He could give you any information about comic books or dungeons and dragons. He's quick in the mind and just plain adorable. From the first week or so I felt like I knew him before. We never discussed being friends, we just were. He has an awesome wife and two of the cutest little boys ever. The youngest has the best little belly and the eldest has those eyes that if he asked me if he could stay up for five more minutes, I'd always say yes. Good thing I'm not in charge. SG is a wonderful daddy and a truly fun actor. He's playful and has a very good sense of comedic timing. Think three stooges or Laurel and Hardy. He and another girl in our group (AL) are like this dynamic duo that can get all of us busting out at the seams. I always feel supported by SG and feel like if I fell on my face he'd laugh while helping me up, but more importantly he'd make me laugh about it, too. That's what I need, someone to help me laugh at myself and the crap that life chucks at me. He's got a gift for that.
SM- If the toothfairy really did exist, I feel like she'd be like SM. This girl, also scottish, is the kind of person that you'd believe floated in a bubble for fun. She's light as air and...well...silly. In the best sense of the word. If I'm around SM, I verbally vomit anything I'm thinking to her. That's not something I really do. Ever. At least not without effort. But SM will plop herself down next to me, sling her arm around my shoulders, blow her blond fringe from her eyes, and in her soft raspy voice she'll start chattering away. And before I know it, my mood is lighter, I'm giggling, and have lost track of whatever was bothering me. SM is the forgetful sort. And she knows it. Sometimes she'll concentrate so hard on remembering something and when it is a success she'll do a victory fist pump of joy, "I remembered to text them!" You'd think she'd won gold at the olympics. It makes me so happy to be around her. You just feel five years younger. And as an actor, I love watching the wheels turn in her head. And she constantly surprises me with what she comes up with. She's always up for trying anything and is truly here just to become better and to live her dream. It's pure. And it's infectious. It's wonderful.
JS- I've written a bit about him before. He was also my yasha from the tennis ball blog. But this was the first week I really got to work closely with him. The only one of us actually from Glasgow, JS has the best accent I've ever heard. And what's more, he's got the best laugh. He's the type of actor that you trust immediately. And that is SO rare. He's not afraid to get it "wrong" because I think (I hope) he realizes that there is no wrong. Only better. When acting with him, I can count on him to give as good as he gets. Because he's one of the most generous actors I've ever worked with. He keeps a sense of humor, listens, can focus when needed, gives feed back and ideas, and never works in the same way twice. He's one of the few people that make me nervous because I know he's going to challenge me to be better. As a person, he's got a good soul. A dirty mind. And little boy deviousness that reminds me of my charismatic trouble maker cousin, Justin, who could get you to do the craziest shit just by using his brown eyes and a wicked grin. JS is someone you people out there will want to work with. I hope you get the chance.
and finally MAR. This is the guy you go to coffee with when you need someone to understand you. This guy's been through hell and back but still knows how to give. He has an intensity in his acting that is piercing. And he has will that is like a brick wall. MAR is soft hearted and thin skinned, but not push over. You will always know what he is thinking by looking at his face. Something we both have in common. He has an addiction to diet coke and technology. And it's beautiful watching him figure himself out. I can count on MAR to tell his truth. Whether I agree or not, I know that that is what he feels. And I love that. I never have to worry about walking on egg shells around him because I know that if there's a problem, he'll tell me. It's one thing I miss about NY. That mind set of being allowed to be who I am without feeling the need to apologize. I don't ever feel that around MAR. We are who we are. And we like each other for it. He's a gentleman, he's a thinker, and he's a very good friend.
So now you've met a few. Stay tuned for more of them. I'm sure they'll make an appearance.
As for the rest of this past week...I've hit some highs and lows. One of the pieces we rehearsed (One Night in Iran) had me trying to seduce a guy while crawling like a cat across a table that was meant to represent a bed. Despite the shakiness and squeaking of the table, we pulled it off. But it was the one play that made me uncomfortable. Once again hitting insecurities that I just dont want to deal with. ...of course we find out today that we've switched up the groups and will be concentrating the whole of next week on a single play for our presentation on next friday. guess which play i got? ....looks like I'll be reprising my table cat crawl for the head of our dept, the playwrights, the people from Playwrights Studio, and all of my cohort. Awesome. I am very pleased with the director I got though. If anyone can make me sexy, it's this guy. He's a directing genius.
Side note: It's been stormy the past few days but today it was Sunshine and rain at the same time. My favorite. :) The rainbows were an excellent touch to my walk home.
On Wednesday we also had our Renaissance auditions. In the spring we will have two shows that go up in repertory "Measure for Measure" and "the Duchess of Malfi". I believe we'll only be cast in one. My audition went as well as I could have hoped. I tried a new piece (for those of you shakespeare savvy lot, it was Lady Percy from Henry IV part 2). I'm not sure how much the panel was really paying attention seeing as how they were writing in their notebooks most of the time. But all I wanted was to have a good audition and interview and I did. Interviews are hit and miss with me. I never used to have any anxiety with them but ever since I did the Miss WA IOJD pageant in 2001, I've always been a bit hesitant. Never will I forget that interview...
Interviewer: So, Miss Stacy, what's your favorite color and why?
Stacy: Purple. um...uh...because...because...I like plums. Plums are purple. yeah.
oof. ...well it was a stupid question anyway. The least they could have done was give me a question that I could have answer "world peace" to. Ah well. I fooled those suckers, didn't I? Ended up being Miss Congeniality instead. ...it's ok. You can laugh. My whole family did, too. :)
But back to the audition. It was good. In the end though, and I'm glad I finally figured this out, it's not something I have any control over. I pray every time before I go into an audition that I will be able to walk back out of that room knowing I did my very best. And it's enough. But whether I get a part (or THE part) is out of my hands. They may want a 5'8" blond haired skinny Brit for the lead. I'll never be that. But I can control what I do inside that room. It just sucks if you ever get your heart set on a particular role or show. I've been very careful not to do that here. But there's still that bit of me that hopes he's looking for a 5'2" American brunette with curves instead. Won't find out for a couple of weeks. Will keep you posted.
Other than that, it's been just a blur of plays, scenes, and directors. Learning how each work and whether we can in fact work with them. We are all exhausted still but I still have never been happier. I was laying on the floor during a rehearsal today, watching some of my favorite people work a scene, and thinking...there's no where else I'd rather be.
Tonight was filled with long and multiple trips to grocery stores trying to get ingredients to make pumpkin bars for our huge thanksgiving tomorrow. We had class on our actual thanksgiving.
The search was a relative success. p.s. icing sugar=powdered/confectioners sugar. bicarbonate soda= baking soda. they use grams here instead of oz. and cream cheese is called soft cheese. yeah. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Luckily I had LoLo to keep things funny and musical. We finished the night in the communal kitchen; her making a huge vat of mac n' cheese, and me with fairly decent pumpkin bars. Though I wish my mom were here to make them properly. No one does it like momma.
Alright. Three weeks till end of term. And savoring every moment.
Thinking of you x
Monday, November 21, 2011
Fake It Till You Make It.
One of the perks of going to the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland is that you automatically qualify for UK Student Equity (our actors' union. USA equiv= AEA). After graduation, if we stay in the UK, we can then transfer our status to full member of Equity. Which would be wonderful...if I were staying here. But regardless, I've locked in my name for any future work. No other person can join Equity under the name Stacy Lynn. whoop whoop!
The weekend was quiet for the most part and I only wish I could have hibernated for a few days more. I still feel that I haven't quite recovered from the whole Chekhov debacle. But alas we began anew this monday.
9am yoga class. oh how I wish we had it every day. It always feels so good to do it both inside and out. It's one of the few types of exercise that I truly enjoy.
As for class, we started a new project. Next fall, we will take on tour three short plays that have been commissioned for us by the RCS. The process starts with what we call a carousel. In order to get to know the playwrights (and the directors)that are brought in, we are split up into groups, then we workshop a play that has already been published by each of the writers. It's a little nerve racking considering that you are reading/acting these pieces while the writer sits and stares at you. And the first piece we started on today was probably the most challenging when it comes to content.
The writer, Oliver (Ollie) Emanuel, gave us a piece called One Night in Iran. A story based off of an article in the Guardian in 2006. Personally I like the piece very much, though I don't necessarily think I'm right in the casting (it's only a two person play). We have to say some fairly explicit stuff. I know what your thinking, "Stacy, why would you have a problem with that? You swear like a sailor and you've already had a fake orgy this term. Explicit words should be cake." Well, I think it's because the piece itself is incredibly intimate. These two people have loved each other for five years, have never touched, he's married, they are both Iranian, and if caught in an affair, she could be flogged or stoned to death. And yet they meet in a hotel room one night. It has beautiful roller coaster of emotional pops. The awkwardness of the meeting, the sexual undertones and sometimes overtones, the love and longing, and the blunt force trama that is caused when reality hits both of them in the face. Once again, it's a piece that will stretch what I think I can and can't do. And Ollie has been great in being very open with his writing and to any questions. He knows he's good and doesn't seem threatened when someone questions his sanity. But then again, I've only just met him.
I'm trying very hard to shake off whatever is left of the Chekhov doldrums. I think delving so deep into Ranevskaya's insecurities gave too much attention to my own. Now I'm just annoyed with the pity party I seem to be throwing myself. Time to get back on track. I am better than this. And I'm certainly stronger than this. So. That's quite enough pouting, Stacy Lynn. Stop focusing on too far forward or too far back. It's in the Now. And. If the confidence isn't there....fake it till you make it. No one will ever know the difference. Including myself.
The weekend was quiet for the most part and I only wish I could have hibernated for a few days more. I still feel that I haven't quite recovered from the whole Chekhov debacle. But alas we began anew this monday.
9am yoga class. oh how I wish we had it every day. It always feels so good to do it both inside and out. It's one of the few types of exercise that I truly enjoy.
As for class, we started a new project. Next fall, we will take on tour three short plays that have been commissioned for us by the RCS. The process starts with what we call a carousel. In order to get to know the playwrights (and the directors)that are brought in, we are split up into groups, then we workshop a play that has already been published by each of the writers. It's a little nerve racking considering that you are reading/acting these pieces while the writer sits and stares at you. And the first piece we started on today was probably the most challenging when it comes to content.
The writer, Oliver (Ollie) Emanuel, gave us a piece called One Night in Iran. A story based off of an article in the Guardian in 2006. Personally I like the piece very much, though I don't necessarily think I'm right in the casting (it's only a two person play). We have to say some fairly explicit stuff. I know what your thinking, "Stacy, why would you have a problem with that? You swear like a sailor and you've already had a fake orgy this term. Explicit words should be cake." Well, I think it's because the piece itself is incredibly intimate. These two people have loved each other for five years, have never touched, he's married, they are both Iranian, and if caught in an affair, she could be flogged or stoned to death. And yet they meet in a hotel room one night. It has beautiful roller coaster of emotional pops. The awkwardness of the meeting, the sexual undertones and sometimes overtones, the love and longing, and the blunt force trama that is caused when reality hits both of them in the face. Once again, it's a piece that will stretch what I think I can and can't do. And Ollie has been great in being very open with his writing and to any questions. He knows he's good and doesn't seem threatened when someone questions his sanity. But then again, I've only just met him.
I'm trying very hard to shake off whatever is left of the Chekhov doldrums. I think delving so deep into Ranevskaya's insecurities gave too much attention to my own. Now I'm just annoyed with the pity party I seem to be throwing myself. Time to get back on track. I am better than this. And I'm certainly stronger than this. So. That's quite enough pouting, Stacy Lynn. Stop focusing on too far forward or too far back. It's in the Now. And. If the confidence isn't there....fake it till you make it. No one will ever know the difference. Including myself.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Learning to drink like a Scotsman (or) Eff Off, Chekhov.
Whiskey cures colds. Well...until the morning when you notice it again.
Last night was a well deserved, if not slightly excessive night out. I'd feel bad about it if I hadn't earned it. The Chekhov project is finally finished and from what we hear from last year's class, it was the most difficult part of the course. That's good to hear.
If I've learned anything (and I've learned quite a bit from this) it's that I definitely have my own way and needs to prepare for a performance/showing. And I don't do well when I am forced into someone else's way of preparation. For me, I've learned that I do massive amounts of work from Day 1 so that by the day of performance, I do very little. Because I am such an over analytical thinker, if I dwell or over rehearse on the day of, I freak myself out. Which is sort of how I felt yesterday.
I got to the studio at 9am for some yoga, vocals, and zumba. At ten we all met together and had to do more warm up and long exercises. I didn't really want to, I'll admit. I like to warm up with myself or with a small group and then do about ten minutes with full cast to get connected to each other. But hours of "warm up" when lead by someone who doesn't understand your needs and doing full concentration exercises just makes me tired and irritable.
We did about 2 1/2 hours of that, singing that Russian song they taught us, or doing a mass scene run through (which they didnt even get to my scenes). By the early afternoon, I had the biggest need for a nap and a drink.
As for the actual showing, I thought our cohort did a fantastic job. The progress from Tuesday alone was incredible. I, myself, was a bit disappointed in my performance and have had a small problem letting that go. It wasn't a disaster by any means. But it was the first time in two months that I felt I pushed and indicated. I've made so much progress and now I felt as if I had slid right back to my own bad habits. And regardless of circumstances, other people, the baby gurgling in the front row, there's no one to blame but myself. So, ok. Good. Lesson learned. Never get too comfortable, concentration is a skill that needs practice, and never get too big for your britches. It's a good reminder as well that there are no guarantees of a good performance. Sometimes you hit it, sometimes you don't. Humans are unpredictable, and therefore so are your shows. But it's in the training that you can maneuver whatever issues you come up against (i.e. bad mood, bad hair day, bad back, bad direction, or whatever) so that you can keep the train wreck contained to a slight fender bender.
As a result of such a day, most of us met for dinner to celebrate AL's birthday as well as to tell Chekhov to Eff Off. We went to a really awesome Russian restaurant that had incredible food. ...and liquor. Then some of us went to a bar/club that also had good liquor. And after forgetting how many good liquors I had had, and it being about three in the morning, LY and I walked to our favorite chips place for fries and plopped ourselves at home. I REALLY must stop walking home that way if I go out. It doesn't matter how many sit ups or yoga poses I do, those french fries are still bound to make my tuckus bigger. Sigh. Gotta get back on track.
So today I'm cleaning that disaster that is my room, reading plays, doing monologue work for the audition next wednesday, and watching an obscene amount of AB FAB and French & Saunders seasons. Time to change focus for what's next.
I'm coming home for xmas in exactly a month. Despite missing my family, I'm not all that USA homesick. Maybe once or twice for hangover taco bell food. Or country music. Or a Broadway show. But for the most part...yeah. Not much is missing from my life here. It's nice.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
The 168 Hour Day.
So I was thinking today, while I was waiting for rehearsal to start, that it had been a day or two since I wrote on this blog. Then I realized, oh. no. It's been six days. I've lost track of time because all the days have run together. It feels like all one day...that just happens to be 168hours long.
Tomorrow is our showing (the tutors don't want to call it a "performance" for fear that if it sucks, they might have to answer for their part in it) of The Cherry Orchard. It could not come soon enough.
The majority of the cohort look like either walking zombies, or grumbling children (myself included). We've been through a lot. And now, we've all collectively come to the conclusion that we're done.
After last Friday's emotional massacre (see last blog for details), we all took the weekend to hibernate and decompress. And for the most part, we were revived a bit. But it had already taken it's toll. You could feel the irritation or lack of interest when it came to our long exercises. No one wants to play with the tennis ball any longer (see previous blog). Or if they do, it's only a tennis ball. No longer an object of deep emotion or value. We all still do our job. And we do it well. The scenes are shaping up and we are professional and technical. But we're just tired. Mentally, physically, spiritually.
Speaking for myself, I bounce back and forth from wanting to scream and throw things, to passivity, to minor irritation, or inappropriate giggling. The latter of which I prefer. I get this method. I feel I may actually get this character now, too. That being said, this method is not something that should EVER be shoved into two weeks. This type of emotional bender that we are directed to go on is not something that should be done with 21 people all at once with only two tutors to supervise. It's unsafe and at times cruel. And I don't approve of blending the line between actor and role. Because when we are on this crash course, it's harder to just "let go" of it afterwards. So if in an exercise, someone hurts you, or loves you, or avoids you, or smothers you...you then take that with you sometimes. I've had to force myself a couple of times to talk to people that, after an exercise, they made me shy away from them or they made me nervous. I don't like it.
But I've done a pretty good job. I've let go of almost all the residual emotions. I've grown closer to a couple of people which is wonderful. And after a little chat with one of my tutors today, I know that they are pleased with what I'm putting forth. So. Ok. I'll take it. I am feeling stronger than I have in a very long time. I just need to stop being so damn sensitive all the time. In the end, it's just acting. Not nuclear physics. It's not WHO I am. It's what I do. And there's a big difference.
Tomorrow is our showing (the tutors don't want to call it a "performance" for fear that if it sucks, they might have to answer for their part in it) of The Cherry Orchard. It could not come soon enough.
The majority of the cohort look like either walking zombies, or grumbling children (myself included). We've been through a lot. And now, we've all collectively come to the conclusion that we're done.
After last Friday's emotional massacre (see last blog for details), we all took the weekend to hibernate and decompress. And for the most part, we were revived a bit. But it had already taken it's toll. You could feel the irritation or lack of interest when it came to our long exercises. No one wants to play with the tennis ball any longer (see previous blog). Or if they do, it's only a tennis ball. No longer an object of deep emotion or value. We all still do our job. And we do it well. The scenes are shaping up and we are professional and technical. But we're just tired. Mentally, physically, spiritually.
Speaking for myself, I bounce back and forth from wanting to scream and throw things, to passivity, to minor irritation, or inappropriate giggling. The latter of which I prefer. I get this method. I feel I may actually get this character now, too. That being said, this method is not something that should EVER be shoved into two weeks. This type of emotional bender that we are directed to go on is not something that should be done with 21 people all at once with only two tutors to supervise. It's unsafe and at times cruel. And I don't approve of blending the line between actor and role. Because when we are on this crash course, it's harder to just "let go" of it afterwards. So if in an exercise, someone hurts you, or loves you, or avoids you, or smothers you...you then take that with you sometimes. I've had to force myself a couple of times to talk to people that, after an exercise, they made me shy away from them or they made me nervous. I don't like it.
But I've done a pretty good job. I've let go of almost all the residual emotions. I've grown closer to a couple of people which is wonderful. And after a little chat with one of my tutors today, I know that they are pleased with what I'm putting forth. So. Ok. I'll take it. I am feeling stronger than I have in a very long time. I just need to stop being so damn sensitive all the time. In the end, it's just acting. Not nuclear physics. It's not WHO I am. It's what I do. And there's a big difference.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Unleashing the Beast
WARNING: if you are looking for laughs and witticisms, please check back for later blogs. This posting will not fulfill your requirements.
Today was a tough day.
On a whole, the entire week has been emotionally draining to the point where I send myself to bed at around 930pm. And though yesterday was frustrating, today was...crippling. Now don't get me wrong, in my mind, it was a huge "acting" success, but not without a few casualties.
I pretty much will skip over yesterday. It felt mostly like a waste of a day. We had a meeting for every scene that we are in and my main one was full of arguments, tantrums, and stubborness. Believe it or not, none of that came from me for once.
Today however...Alright, I promised honesty in this blog, but please know I'm cringing the entire time. Today hit every insecurity I have. Hard. Allow me to elaborate...
The first exercise was once again walking around the room, in character, interacting silently with other characters (or you were allowed to say a phrase here and there from the script). I woke up a bit sensitive today. I know that now. So already this was vibrating under the surface.
You know those days when you wake up and you just feel ugly? As a person, physically, etc. Well, this was one of those. So I immediately tap into Ranevskaya's (recap: that's my character) neediness and loneliness. A feeling I am familiar with but tend to shove as far back in my mind as humanly possible. I file it in my mental drawer right next to "shame", "regret", and the fact I still know all the words to almost all the NSync albums.
But anyway, I tap into that. I sit in my chair forever focusing on that voice of self loathing. Everyone has this voice and some listen to it more than others. I, generally, fight tooth and nail to block it out since the bitch is exceptionally strong in me. But today, knowing it was a part of the character that I hadnt really explored and knowing full well it was a HUGE part of her, I let the voice out. ughhhhhhh. Both an excellent and horrible idea. It's a horrible feeling, not thinking anyone wants you. And that no one ever will. And it's incredibly pathetic. Regardless. The exercise was to intensify/magnify your discoveries. And so I did. And it was manageable...until MAR who was playing Lopakhin came up to me while I was standing near a dark corner. He took the side of my face in his hand, leaned in, and whispered a part of the text that was so cruel. And it was the distain in his voice that had my knees buckling, body shaking, and then eventually I was sobbing on the floor in a ball.
There are some girls in my group who I think have the most incredible gift of overactive tear ducts. They can cry at the drop of the hat and then bring it back. I'm quite jealous. I, however, am not able to do this. I don't cry in public if I can help it. And frankly, I hardly cry at all (though those of you that have known me these past few years know that it's been an increasing trend). So this outburst today was something that really shook me. I did not like it. I did not like the loss of control. I did not like the pain. That being said, it's good for the character.
In said ball, I heard footsteps and then a hand on my back. After a moment, I lifted my head and saw my Yasha. And it was over. I wrapped my arms around him and cried some more (ugh, whimpered more like) and he held me, brushing the hair off my face, telling me it was alright. When the brunt of emotion was over, he sat with me for a bit longer. I couldn't look at his face for long periods of time, but I played with the corner of his shirt which brought me more comfort than any words. Those that know me REEEEALLY well, know that that's a nervous habit of mine, playing with corners of fabric.
And that's where the line of character and actor blend.
The character feels pain. I feel pain. But the character shows it, without limit. I show it, and I'm embarrassed. But either way, we as actors then use it.
We did a few more things in the morning class, but mostly it was reading outloud our scenes and focusing on where your attention is placed. When we speak, our direct focus is sometimes on the person we are talking to and sometimes inwards while thinking of the person we are talking about. We had to identify which and when. My scene went very well though the echoes of the crying still stuck with me.
At lunch I didn't feel like eating so I bought a Sprite and checked out a voice room to play the piano for a bit and try to shake it off. Had I only known it was about to get a helluva lot worse.
The exercise was to perform etudes of our scenes. That is, to improv a contemporary version of your scene with your partners. My main scene is with Trofimov. In it, he tries to give tough love by telling me the truth that I don't want to hear. Mostly that my ex lover (who wants me back) is a loser and thief and that I'm living in a dream world. To which my character makes it personal and fights back with ugly words and insults. He ends up leaving.
Our contemporary etude was basically set where my ex started coming back in my life, texting he misses me etc, and Trof (NB) is trying to convince me (Stacy) that he's a loser and I'm stupid to get back with him.
I take NB aside before we present and say, "Now, you do know that I'm going to light into you right?"
NB: Yes.
me: "And you are SURE you are ok with this?"
NB: Yes.
Deep breath. Ok...
Our scene starts, I check the text, explain the situation, and he begins to pick and poke, and...I rip him a new one. I say the most hideous ugly things in the most hideous ugly way. And don't be mistaken, we are using each other's names and the insults are very personal. To the point that when it was all over, I looked at the rest of the cohort and most had either their mouths wide open, their eyes were bugged out, or they were completely and utterly still.
Let me also say that NB had some mighty fine jabs himself. His closing remark being the most lethal, "What man would ever want YOU?" Think back to this morning's exercise and feeling. Yeah. Thinking it and feeling it are one thing. But having someone throw it in your face vocally in front of 22 peers and teachers is another thing all together.
And despite what NB said of me...I'm actually more concerned with what I said to him. He seems fine with it by the way. I'm sure glad I warned him though in the beginning. I think it made all the difference. But he walked out of that room fine and dandy. Me on the other hand...I hate knowing that that is in me. I did my job. I did what was asked. And I did it well. Too well. It's something I truly hate about myself. Ok no, I rarely lash out like that in real life. But it's there. That kind of poison in there. And just because you feel bad afterwards, it doesn't excuse you from having the poison there in the first place. You can't say, "Hey, I'm still a good person. Sure I hurt someone, but I felt real bad afterwards." You still did the hurting. And now I just feel bruised, inside and out.
And I bet you thought that was it, huh? Oh no. The hits just keep on coming.
One of the very last etudes of the day was with MAR. We did not discuss this before hand but he needed a Ranevskaya and said it needed to be me. First, I know it's mostly because he knows me better than the other two Renny's and would be able to find better ammunition (yes, he warned me that he was going to lay into me. only this time I wouldnt be able to fight back). But I also noticed that, the other two Renny's are softer and kinder. They are in real life softer and kinder. MAR needed someone he could attack and that person would be me. ...um, thank you? But it was absolutely right. Sometimes you need someone to hate. I'm just saddened that it tends to be me. What I bring to the table is a feisty, harsh, neglectful Renny. And I'm quite heartbroken to say, that there's a LOT of me in her. More than I'd like. So when MAR throws those personal punches, they hit. This time, it was an attack on my talent or lack there of.
My two biggest hang ups are 1. whether I can really be an exceptional actor. and 2. whether I am attractive to men. ew. That's so annoying as to how sad that sounds. And please, all you out there who love me, please know that this little voice of self loathing is a tiny one. It only took over today because I let it.
Also, please realize that there is absolutely NO hard feelings with any of these members of the cohort. We always hug it out afterwards and I can honestly say that I hold no animosity towards them. And after a small pity party this evening that I'll be throwing myself, I'll sleep on it, and restart again tomorrow. Hopefully retaining everything I learned today, and letting go of the rest.
I assure you all, despite the fact that I'm emotionally bruised and tired beyond belief...I've never been happier. Man, actors are messed up. :)
Today was a tough day.
On a whole, the entire week has been emotionally draining to the point where I send myself to bed at around 930pm. And though yesterday was frustrating, today was...crippling. Now don't get me wrong, in my mind, it was a huge "acting" success, but not without a few casualties.
I pretty much will skip over yesterday. It felt mostly like a waste of a day. We had a meeting for every scene that we are in and my main one was full of arguments, tantrums, and stubborness. Believe it or not, none of that came from me for once.
Today however...Alright, I promised honesty in this blog, but please know I'm cringing the entire time. Today hit every insecurity I have. Hard. Allow me to elaborate...
The first exercise was once again walking around the room, in character, interacting silently with other characters (or you were allowed to say a phrase here and there from the script). I woke up a bit sensitive today. I know that now. So already this was vibrating under the surface.
You know those days when you wake up and you just feel ugly? As a person, physically, etc. Well, this was one of those. So I immediately tap into Ranevskaya's (recap: that's my character) neediness and loneliness. A feeling I am familiar with but tend to shove as far back in my mind as humanly possible. I file it in my mental drawer right next to "shame", "regret", and the fact I still know all the words to almost all the NSync albums.
But anyway, I tap into that. I sit in my chair forever focusing on that voice of self loathing. Everyone has this voice and some listen to it more than others. I, generally, fight tooth and nail to block it out since the bitch is exceptionally strong in me. But today, knowing it was a part of the character that I hadnt really explored and knowing full well it was a HUGE part of her, I let the voice out. ughhhhhhh. Both an excellent and horrible idea. It's a horrible feeling, not thinking anyone wants you. And that no one ever will. And it's incredibly pathetic. Regardless. The exercise was to intensify/magnify your discoveries. And so I did. And it was manageable...until MAR who was playing Lopakhin came up to me while I was standing near a dark corner. He took the side of my face in his hand, leaned in, and whispered a part of the text that was so cruel. And it was the distain in his voice that had my knees buckling, body shaking, and then eventually I was sobbing on the floor in a ball.
There are some girls in my group who I think have the most incredible gift of overactive tear ducts. They can cry at the drop of the hat and then bring it back. I'm quite jealous. I, however, am not able to do this. I don't cry in public if I can help it. And frankly, I hardly cry at all (though those of you that have known me these past few years know that it's been an increasing trend). So this outburst today was something that really shook me. I did not like it. I did not like the loss of control. I did not like the pain. That being said, it's good for the character.
In said ball, I heard footsteps and then a hand on my back. After a moment, I lifted my head and saw my Yasha. And it was over. I wrapped my arms around him and cried some more (ugh, whimpered more like) and he held me, brushing the hair off my face, telling me it was alright. When the brunt of emotion was over, he sat with me for a bit longer. I couldn't look at his face for long periods of time, but I played with the corner of his shirt which brought me more comfort than any words. Those that know me REEEEALLY well, know that that's a nervous habit of mine, playing with corners of fabric.
And that's where the line of character and actor blend.
The character feels pain. I feel pain. But the character shows it, without limit. I show it, and I'm embarrassed. But either way, we as actors then use it.
We did a few more things in the morning class, but mostly it was reading outloud our scenes and focusing on where your attention is placed. When we speak, our direct focus is sometimes on the person we are talking to and sometimes inwards while thinking of the person we are talking about. We had to identify which and when. My scene went very well though the echoes of the crying still stuck with me.
At lunch I didn't feel like eating so I bought a Sprite and checked out a voice room to play the piano for a bit and try to shake it off. Had I only known it was about to get a helluva lot worse.
The exercise was to perform etudes of our scenes. That is, to improv a contemporary version of your scene with your partners. My main scene is with Trofimov. In it, he tries to give tough love by telling me the truth that I don't want to hear. Mostly that my ex lover (who wants me back) is a loser and thief and that I'm living in a dream world. To which my character makes it personal and fights back with ugly words and insults. He ends up leaving.
Our contemporary etude was basically set where my ex started coming back in my life, texting he misses me etc, and Trof (NB) is trying to convince me (Stacy) that he's a loser and I'm stupid to get back with him.
I take NB aside before we present and say, "Now, you do know that I'm going to light into you right?"
NB: Yes.
me: "And you are SURE you are ok with this?"
NB: Yes.
Deep breath. Ok...
Our scene starts, I check the text, explain the situation, and he begins to pick and poke, and...I rip him a new one. I say the most hideous ugly things in the most hideous ugly way. And don't be mistaken, we are using each other's names and the insults are very personal. To the point that when it was all over, I looked at the rest of the cohort and most had either their mouths wide open, their eyes were bugged out, or they were completely and utterly still.
Let me also say that NB had some mighty fine jabs himself. His closing remark being the most lethal, "What man would ever want YOU?" Think back to this morning's exercise and feeling. Yeah. Thinking it and feeling it are one thing. But having someone throw it in your face vocally in front of 22 peers and teachers is another thing all together.
And despite what NB said of me...I'm actually more concerned with what I said to him. He seems fine with it by the way. I'm sure glad I warned him though in the beginning. I think it made all the difference. But he walked out of that room fine and dandy. Me on the other hand...I hate knowing that that is in me. I did my job. I did what was asked. And I did it well. Too well. It's something I truly hate about myself. Ok no, I rarely lash out like that in real life. But it's there. That kind of poison in there. And just because you feel bad afterwards, it doesn't excuse you from having the poison there in the first place. You can't say, "Hey, I'm still a good person. Sure I hurt someone, but I felt real bad afterwards." You still did the hurting. And now I just feel bruised, inside and out.
And I bet you thought that was it, huh? Oh no. The hits just keep on coming.
One of the very last etudes of the day was with MAR. We did not discuss this before hand but he needed a Ranevskaya and said it needed to be me. First, I know it's mostly because he knows me better than the other two Renny's and would be able to find better ammunition (yes, he warned me that he was going to lay into me. only this time I wouldnt be able to fight back). But I also noticed that, the other two Renny's are softer and kinder. They are in real life softer and kinder. MAR needed someone he could attack and that person would be me. ...um, thank you? But it was absolutely right. Sometimes you need someone to hate. I'm just saddened that it tends to be me. What I bring to the table is a feisty, harsh, neglectful Renny. And I'm quite heartbroken to say, that there's a LOT of me in her. More than I'd like. So when MAR throws those personal punches, they hit. This time, it was an attack on my talent or lack there of.
My two biggest hang ups are 1. whether I can really be an exceptional actor. and 2. whether I am attractive to men. ew. That's so annoying as to how sad that sounds. And please, all you out there who love me, please know that this little voice of self loathing is a tiny one. It only took over today because I let it.
Also, please realize that there is absolutely NO hard feelings with any of these members of the cohort. We always hug it out afterwards and I can honestly say that I hold no animosity towards them. And after a small pity party this evening that I'll be throwing myself, I'll sleep on it, and restart again tomorrow. Hopefully retaining everything I learned today, and letting go of the rest.
I assure you all, despite the fact that I'm emotionally bruised and tired beyond belief...I've never been happier. Man, actors are messed up. :)
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
The Power of the Tennis Ball, and a Make-Believe Funeral.
I got my heart broken today. By JS and a tennis ball. ...but more on that later.
These past two days, we have fully immersed ourselves in Chekhov. Mostly it has been exercises and Etudes (improvisational parallels to our character's relationships with others). I'd say I've spent about 40% of those hours incredibly frustrated with the teaching. But the exercises themselves have revolutionized (is that a word?) my grasp on the character, Ranevskaya.
We did the line exercise again (refresher course for those of you who've forgotten, it is the one where you're facing your partner standing about 20ft apart. The goal is to meet in the middle but you only move when you feel the need and when you get it off of your partner.) This time, the exercise was character specific. You are paired up with another character that you deal with in the play. Once you meet in the middle, the guy asks for your hand, you decide to give it to him, he kisses it, you blush and look away, he tips your chin up so you look at him, you place your other hand on either cheek or chest, and then he has the option to kiss you on forehead, cheek, or lips--depending on your relationship in the play. I was matched twice: once with Trofimov, my dead son's tutor, and the second time with Gayev, my brother.
Trofimov was interesting in that I found that it was IMPERATIVE that he come to me. I only felt the need to take a step to him when he stepped backwards from me. And then it was a feeling of panic, "don't leave me!"
With Gayev, I would take steps with him at the same time, feeling like "hey we are in this together." But also, he constantly had this look of disappointment on his face and it crushed me to think he looked down on me when I already looked so down on myself. It was only when his face softened that I felt I could move with him.
We played the tennis ball game as well, both today and yesterday. Now, if I haven't explained this one before, it basically is this: you walk around the room in character, a tennis ball is given to one of the characters, and you pass it to another character that you feel the need to give it to. The tennis ball is a physical manifestation of your emotional objective...in short, the tennis ball is your heart. When you walk around the room, you are literally giving your heart away and either watching it be accepted or rejected. You are also watching as others give-what you gave-to someone else. As Ranevskaya I found that when I had the ball, I made sure every man saw that I had it. And what's more, I made sure they followed me awhile before I even came remotely close to passing it off to someone else. The attention and pursuit of me gave me importance and validation. When I finally did give it away, I found I often gave it to JS (character: Yasha). And he often gave it to me. This is a character who is my footman, we have very few actual conversations in the play, but a connection was felt by both of us and it came from that little ball. After mulling it over, I realized that JS's Yasha was a private protector and advisor for me, not only another attractive man (though he is that, too). I would check to make sure I always knew where he was. And I could count on him to give me his tennis ball. What's more, I could give him mine (something I never really felt comfortable doing with anyone else) because I knew I could count on him giving it back when and if I needed it. Two characters who hardly interact, and he's the strongest bond I feel I have in the play.
That being said, today we did the same exercise. And I found a new side to Ranevskaya that I didn't see before. The game began as before, Yasha passed the ball to me a couple times. He let me know with his eyes who I should and should not give it to. He smiled at me and I felt everything was ok. But then, at one point, I had passed him the ball, he took it, and immediately gave it to a different Ranevskaya (there are three of us playing the part). And my body shut down. How could he do that? Because to me, that wasn't another Me. That was another woman. This man who I trusted with my heart and my love...he just gave it away. Without a thought. I stood where I was. I watched that bitch take MY BALL from MY YASHA. I watched her jump for joy, to fawn over him in thanks, and I watched as his face smiled MY SMILE at her. And I wanted to sob. I stopped breathing. I felt broken. I looked around the room. I had spent the past twenty minutes flirting with men and even women to get the ball, to gather people's hearts and the one heart I was so sure of betrayed me. And I stood there for what seemed like fifteen minutes (but I couldnt even tell you, I was so distraught) and thinking, "Oh my God. No one loves me. I could stand here forever and no one looks at me. I don't have the ball, I don't have anyone's heart, so no one wants me. Why doesn't anyone want me?" Which is EXACTLY what the character would do, in my opinion.
Then...my reaction came. A different Yasha (KT) finally came over and gave me his tennis ball. I desperately grabbed for it, even though he gently handed it over. I was so unbelievably grateful and remember thinking, "I'll never forget this. Thank you." And then I began walking briskly about the room. "Look at me you assholes. I have someone's heart." And I could feel my JS Yasha following. First with his eyes, then his body. I began to avoid him. I wouldn't even look at him. He pushed his way through people, trying to put himself in my eyeline. And I kept thinking, "you broke my heart. Let's see how YOU like it." What's funny is, the entire time, I knew he loved me. I knew I would hurt him. But I was still so hurt myself that I needed to lash out. I needed to say, "That'll teach you to choose someone over me." My heart was bleeding and he didn't effing notice, well, we'll see about that.
I walked over to the character that I cared the absolute least about. One that I'd never even give a second thought to. And I held out the ball to her, turned my head to JS Yasha, looked him straight in the eyes, jutted out my chin, and without taking my eyes off him, I dropped the ball into the girl's hands.
I watched his face as it went from confusion to pain, such a gut wrenching pain, and then to pure anger. And I felt two things at the same time, 1. I'm so sorry. Please still love me. and 2. Fuck. You.
And I walked off without another glance.
Let me all remind you...this was all over a TENNIS BALL. But if you truly invest yourself in what it represents, if you get lost in the exercise, you discover these amazing possibilities that would never have come to you if you had just read the play outloud betwixt you, and were given blocking (For those of you friends that are not theatre friendly, blocking= where to stand and move during the play.)
The funny thing is, we were finally assigned our scenes (of which I am in two), and I am not with JS Yasha AT ALL. Go figure. But it was truly wonderful to go through all of that.
On to the funeral. Yeah. How do I explain this one...
So in the play I have a son that dies by drowning. It doesn't explain how or why but it is implied that it is possibly by neglect. This is the catalyst that begins my spiral of loss of who I am and any good that is in me.
The exercise was to create a contemporary improvised scene that can mirror the relationships you have between characters under given circumstances. i.e. The people who play my neighbors in the play would still be my neigbors but now we are in an apartment in present day. My brother would still be my brother. My step daughter is now a roommate who doesn't pay rent, etc. It was suggested that we set up a scene where instead of my son's wake (since I have no children), it would be my nephew's. The minute the professor suggested it, my stomach dropped, my fingers tingled, and the biggest pressure came down on my chest. You've got to be effing kidding me. But, when you think of it, how else are you to ever understand the death of a child, especially one that means anything to you.
So, the scenario being given, we are given no other direction, no other lines, no beginning or end. It's just six of us, sitting in silence at a dining room table, knowing we just came from a funeral of a little boy.
And it was extraordinary to experience. To keep it clinical, it built a back story to other characters that I could then transfer into the actual scenes when dealing with these people. My brother, so loving and wanting so badly to comfort, and I don't let him. I really hurt my Gayev, but when he touched me to rub my arms or cry on my shoulder, I had to shrug him off. Because if he kept touching me, I would break. And I didn't know if I would ever stop breaking. There were very few words ever spoken. There was the inappropriate "it was a lovely service" to which I begged someone to change the subject. There was the random response of someone grasping for ANY topic "Did anyone get tickets to this year's xmas pantomime show?" To which I couldn't stop laughing and he with me. It was so honest. Someone bringing up something so random and light, begging for a lightness to enter the room. But as we looked at each other laughing, tears started to stream down his face, and the sob lodged in my throat began to climb out. My body began to shake. It was so real. In the end, I felt that the six of us had gone through something together. And I knew that that would also translate in our later scenes.
...Go figure. I only have a scene with ONE of the six people as well. Sigh. But once again, it was an experience that I wouldn't have passed over for anything. I am, however, completely spent. I feel like I need a good long cry. I think it may also be related to the mondo migraine that is still poking its head through. I can't seem to shake it. Although I've been very lucky in that I haven't had one like this in almost a year. I blame the fluorescent lights and concentration.
This has been such a strange time for me. On the one hand, I've never felt like an actor. At least one that anyone would pay to work. Before I get up to do these exercises, I'm always like, "aghhhhh, oh god I hope I can do this." But lately, right after I say that to myself, I seem to be able to click over into somewhere inside me that opens up, and just does the work. It's probably being in a place where I feel safe to go for it. But either way, I'm grateful things are turning out and hope I can keep up the calibur that these people demand and deserve.
On personal life, last night I went to SG's apartment with a few other cohort members and I learned how to play Dungeons and Dragons. I had NO idea what it was all about, only the silly things they say in high school when all the really smart kids would play it on the weekends. But I have to say, it's fascinating. And totally an acting exercise. It is a game of imagination and improv. Like one of those choose your own adventure books but ten times more intricate.
As for tonight, I was supposed to go see a production of Medea, but my head just can't take it. But I do have tickets to "Dracula" on Friday as well as "Into The Woods" on Dec 1st. So I'm still managing to get out and get cultured.
I think that's good enough for today. Thinking of you. And remember, guard your tennis balls.
These past two days, we have fully immersed ourselves in Chekhov. Mostly it has been exercises and Etudes (improvisational parallels to our character's relationships with others). I'd say I've spent about 40% of those hours incredibly frustrated with the teaching. But the exercises themselves have revolutionized (is that a word?) my grasp on the character, Ranevskaya.
We did the line exercise again (refresher course for those of you who've forgotten, it is the one where you're facing your partner standing about 20ft apart. The goal is to meet in the middle but you only move when you feel the need and when you get it off of your partner.) This time, the exercise was character specific. You are paired up with another character that you deal with in the play. Once you meet in the middle, the guy asks for your hand, you decide to give it to him, he kisses it, you blush and look away, he tips your chin up so you look at him, you place your other hand on either cheek or chest, and then he has the option to kiss you on forehead, cheek, or lips--depending on your relationship in the play. I was matched twice: once with Trofimov, my dead son's tutor, and the second time with Gayev, my brother.
Trofimov was interesting in that I found that it was IMPERATIVE that he come to me. I only felt the need to take a step to him when he stepped backwards from me. And then it was a feeling of panic, "don't leave me!"
With Gayev, I would take steps with him at the same time, feeling like "hey we are in this together." But also, he constantly had this look of disappointment on his face and it crushed me to think he looked down on me when I already looked so down on myself. It was only when his face softened that I felt I could move with him.
We played the tennis ball game as well, both today and yesterday. Now, if I haven't explained this one before, it basically is this: you walk around the room in character, a tennis ball is given to one of the characters, and you pass it to another character that you feel the need to give it to. The tennis ball is a physical manifestation of your emotional objective...in short, the tennis ball is your heart. When you walk around the room, you are literally giving your heart away and either watching it be accepted or rejected. You are also watching as others give-what you gave-to someone else. As Ranevskaya I found that when I had the ball, I made sure every man saw that I had it. And what's more, I made sure they followed me awhile before I even came remotely close to passing it off to someone else. The attention and pursuit of me gave me importance and validation. When I finally did give it away, I found I often gave it to JS (character: Yasha). And he often gave it to me. This is a character who is my footman, we have very few actual conversations in the play, but a connection was felt by both of us and it came from that little ball. After mulling it over, I realized that JS's Yasha was a private protector and advisor for me, not only another attractive man (though he is that, too). I would check to make sure I always knew where he was. And I could count on him to give me his tennis ball. What's more, I could give him mine (something I never really felt comfortable doing with anyone else) because I knew I could count on him giving it back when and if I needed it. Two characters who hardly interact, and he's the strongest bond I feel I have in the play.
That being said, today we did the same exercise. And I found a new side to Ranevskaya that I didn't see before. The game began as before, Yasha passed the ball to me a couple times. He let me know with his eyes who I should and should not give it to. He smiled at me and I felt everything was ok. But then, at one point, I had passed him the ball, he took it, and immediately gave it to a different Ranevskaya (there are three of us playing the part). And my body shut down. How could he do that? Because to me, that wasn't another Me. That was another woman. This man who I trusted with my heart and my love...he just gave it away. Without a thought. I stood where I was. I watched that bitch take MY BALL from MY YASHA. I watched her jump for joy, to fawn over him in thanks, and I watched as his face smiled MY SMILE at her. And I wanted to sob. I stopped breathing. I felt broken. I looked around the room. I had spent the past twenty minutes flirting with men and even women to get the ball, to gather people's hearts and the one heart I was so sure of betrayed me. And I stood there for what seemed like fifteen minutes (but I couldnt even tell you, I was so distraught) and thinking, "Oh my God. No one loves me. I could stand here forever and no one looks at me. I don't have the ball, I don't have anyone's heart, so no one wants me. Why doesn't anyone want me?" Which is EXACTLY what the character would do, in my opinion.
Then...my reaction came. A different Yasha (KT) finally came over and gave me his tennis ball. I desperately grabbed for it, even though he gently handed it over. I was so unbelievably grateful and remember thinking, "I'll never forget this. Thank you." And then I began walking briskly about the room. "Look at me you assholes. I have someone's heart." And I could feel my JS Yasha following. First with his eyes, then his body. I began to avoid him. I wouldn't even look at him. He pushed his way through people, trying to put himself in my eyeline. And I kept thinking, "you broke my heart. Let's see how YOU like it." What's funny is, the entire time, I knew he loved me. I knew I would hurt him. But I was still so hurt myself that I needed to lash out. I needed to say, "That'll teach you to choose someone over me." My heart was bleeding and he didn't effing notice, well, we'll see about that.
I walked over to the character that I cared the absolute least about. One that I'd never even give a second thought to. And I held out the ball to her, turned my head to JS Yasha, looked him straight in the eyes, jutted out my chin, and without taking my eyes off him, I dropped the ball into the girl's hands.
I watched his face as it went from confusion to pain, such a gut wrenching pain, and then to pure anger. And I felt two things at the same time, 1. I'm so sorry. Please still love me. and 2. Fuck. You.
And I walked off without another glance.
Let me all remind you...this was all over a TENNIS BALL. But if you truly invest yourself in what it represents, if you get lost in the exercise, you discover these amazing possibilities that would never have come to you if you had just read the play outloud betwixt you, and were given blocking (For those of you friends that are not theatre friendly, blocking= where to stand and move during the play.)
The funny thing is, we were finally assigned our scenes (of which I am in two), and I am not with JS Yasha AT ALL. Go figure. But it was truly wonderful to go through all of that.
On to the funeral. Yeah. How do I explain this one...
So in the play I have a son that dies by drowning. It doesn't explain how or why but it is implied that it is possibly by neglect. This is the catalyst that begins my spiral of loss of who I am and any good that is in me.
The exercise was to create a contemporary improvised scene that can mirror the relationships you have between characters under given circumstances. i.e. The people who play my neighbors in the play would still be my neigbors but now we are in an apartment in present day. My brother would still be my brother. My step daughter is now a roommate who doesn't pay rent, etc. It was suggested that we set up a scene where instead of my son's wake (since I have no children), it would be my nephew's. The minute the professor suggested it, my stomach dropped, my fingers tingled, and the biggest pressure came down on my chest. You've got to be effing kidding me. But, when you think of it, how else are you to ever understand the death of a child, especially one that means anything to you.
So, the scenario being given, we are given no other direction, no other lines, no beginning or end. It's just six of us, sitting in silence at a dining room table, knowing we just came from a funeral of a little boy.
And it was extraordinary to experience. To keep it clinical, it built a back story to other characters that I could then transfer into the actual scenes when dealing with these people. My brother, so loving and wanting so badly to comfort, and I don't let him. I really hurt my Gayev, but when he touched me to rub my arms or cry on my shoulder, I had to shrug him off. Because if he kept touching me, I would break. And I didn't know if I would ever stop breaking. There were very few words ever spoken. There was the inappropriate "it was a lovely service" to which I begged someone to change the subject. There was the random response of someone grasping for ANY topic "Did anyone get tickets to this year's xmas pantomime show?" To which I couldn't stop laughing and he with me. It was so honest. Someone bringing up something so random and light, begging for a lightness to enter the room. But as we looked at each other laughing, tears started to stream down his face, and the sob lodged in my throat began to climb out. My body began to shake. It was so real. In the end, I felt that the six of us had gone through something together. And I knew that that would also translate in our later scenes.
...Go figure. I only have a scene with ONE of the six people as well. Sigh. But once again, it was an experience that I wouldn't have passed over for anything. I am, however, completely spent. I feel like I need a good long cry. I think it may also be related to the mondo migraine that is still poking its head through. I can't seem to shake it. Although I've been very lucky in that I haven't had one like this in almost a year. I blame the fluorescent lights and concentration.
This has been such a strange time for me. On the one hand, I've never felt like an actor. At least one that anyone would pay to work. Before I get up to do these exercises, I'm always like, "aghhhhh, oh god I hope I can do this." But lately, right after I say that to myself, I seem to be able to click over into somewhere inside me that opens up, and just does the work. It's probably being in a place where I feel safe to go for it. But either way, I'm grateful things are turning out and hope I can keep up the calibur that these people demand and deserve.
On personal life, last night I went to SG's apartment with a few other cohort members and I learned how to play Dungeons and Dragons. I had NO idea what it was all about, only the silly things they say in high school when all the really smart kids would play it on the weekends. But I have to say, it's fascinating. And totally an acting exercise. It is a game of imagination and improv. Like one of those choose your own adventure books but ten times more intricate.
As for tonight, I was supposed to go see a production of Medea, but my head just can't take it. But I do have tickets to "Dracula" on Friday as well as "Into The Woods" on Dec 1st. So I'm still managing to get out and get cultured.
I think that's good enough for today. Thinking of you. And remember, guard your tennis balls.
Monday, November 7, 2011
The Globe, The Faerie Glen, and a Cherry Orchard.
So I reeeeeeeeeeeeeally don't feel like writing. But I know if I put it off, it will never get done. Or I'll forget what I have done. And that, my friends, is simply unacceptable. So. Let's see how far I get.
Saturday was not only Guy Fawke's Day/Bonfire (remember remember the 5th of november) but it was also our Globe workshop. That's right. Class on a Saturday. But oh so good. Yolanda (yoli) was our tutor and she has been both actor and director for the Globe for almost ten years. She has this incredible charisma and humor. But also, she is so gifted in making Shakespeare fun. Which, as some of you may not know, it totally is!
So from 10-4pm we did theatre exercises and games for both vocal and physical technique. She explained the limitations we would have being on the Globe stage in January. The fact that it is a theatre with no single focal point. You have an audience on all sides and on all levels. You will always have your back to some of them at all times. So, how do you make them feel included even when they are not looking at your face? How do you make the nosebleed section happy with your performance when they are too far away to see your facial expressions? How do you show it in your body and with the words you speak? You see, many people who read shakespeare think "GOD! Why does he babble on so much about describing what the character is doing all the time? We can SEE him doing it!" But actually, in that space and at that time...you didn't necessarily see the actor do anything. There are large pillars that obstruct the view at times and depending on where you are seated, you may miss out on some important bits and pieces. So we concentrated on that, as well as scansion and the rhythm of the speech. For some people, dissecting and finding the rhythm of the speech is mind numbing. But for me, it totally gets me going. Choosing which words to pop and which to stretch. Milking the sounds and pitching the voice. It's like hot chocolate syrup. Yummmmmmmmmmmy!
After that, the cohort decided to go watch the fireworks and then end up at AK's apartment for drinks. I was going to go to the fireworks but ended up skyping with mi padre instead. It was nice to see his face. And it turns out that I didn't miss the fireworks. I heard them, opened up my bedroom curtains...and got a free show. Perrrrrfect. I did end up going to AK's after. Reassured myself that I'd go for a couple of drinks and that was it. ...four hours later I was at a bar/club. Yeah.
Sunday I was up, after five hours of sleep and a slight hangover, at 730am. The plan for the day was to get the heck out of Glasgow. With two of my cohort MM and RM, we hopped a train to Loch Lomond. (See photos from above). The entire village was swamped in mist and fog for the whole day making it look magical. We hiked around the Loch, saw the castle and gardens, went off the beaten path to the faery glen and picked our way through a stream and fallen leaves. We skipped stones on the Loch and trudged our way through mud and trees. I saw two of the largest swans I've ever seen in my life and everyone we passed had a puppy of some sort with them. Made me wish I had a dog.
We ended up at a B&B for lunch and to sit by the fireplace. And I caved in and had an Apple and pear crumble with vanilla icecream and custard. OH. SO. GOOD. Then jumped back on the train to find our way back to Glasgow. I spent the rest of the evening (about five hours) going through the Cherry Orchard text to do character analysis on my role for class today. It ended up being about 17 pages long.
Today began with a 930am yoga class. The teacher was absolutely lovely. She was the exact kind of peaceful woman you'd want if you had to have someone to tell you to bend yourself into a pretzel that early in the morning. I may even look into taking her classes outside of school.
As for class...well, it was a tad frustrating. Once again we learn a different approach to acting. This one (as well as the approach we used for the ensemble project) is not my cuppa tea. It will be fine. But I find the two tutors talk in circles, argue with each other a lot, and use 1500 words when they could say what they need to say in 10. Patience may be a virtue upon which to build character, but the Lord apparently thought I had enough character and skipped that virtue on me. So I have a hard time ciphering through the BS to get to the point. The good thing is though, that when you get to the point, it's bloody brilliant. But I walk away from 6-8 hours of that, completely mentally exhausted.
The part itself is going to be more challenging than I anticipated. Don't get me wrong, I love a challenge. And I am excited at the prospect of really testing my abilities. But she puzzles me. I don't need to like who I play. I don't need to respect them. But I DO need to understand them. Parts of her make me incredibly uncomfortable because they expose a lot of my insecurities. She's the most insecure woman, she's constantly needing male attention, she's cowardly in that she'd rather be with a lover than have self respect, as opposed to being alone and not be ashamed of herself. This woman has no pride. I am all pride. Much to my detriment at times. I would rather be alone for the rest of my life, then settle for something that makes me feel cheap. She is the opposite.
She also looks to other people to feel valued. Those types of people need love from everyone, and yet none of it will ever be enough because she doesn't love herself.
She is incredibly charming and magnetic. She compels people to take care of her. Even her own daughters. She also is used to male attention and admiration. And needs it desperately. ...we are so different.
Yes, this is why we call it acting. We don't do this in order to play ourselves. Or at least I don't. But I'm not really quite sure how to become this. Or where I'm going to get the balls to show that much weakness. Because the more I DO understand her, the more vulnerable I feel. Oof. Stay tuned.
Fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy ride.
Friday, November 4, 2011
The Dangers of Using Heartbreak
Hello friends.
So I haven't written much this week because, well, things haven't been all that interesting.
Tuesday I was in school for a total of one hour. We had tutorials which is basically the equivalent of the American Parent-teacher conference but without the parents. Normally when you have these meetings in America, it means you are in trouble. But here, it is genuinely to check on your progress and to see how you are adjusting to life here.
My first meeting was with Anna Birch, the research faculty member who is to guide us on our research paper. It lasted five minutes. She asked what my ideas were and how I'd go about it, and me being the person I am had a full couple of pages written. She let me get through about a page of it before she said it would be fine and sent me on my merry way.
The meeting with the dept head Mark Saunders was a little more useful. I gave feedback on how the Ensemble project went for me, said I was very comfortable here and well challenged, and he gave me feedback by saying that I'm doing very well. He seemed very happy with my progress. It was nice to hear that considering that most of the time I've been flying by the seat of my pants, crossing my fingers that I'm doing something right.
Wednesday was a two hour lecture by a Scottish theatre critic. Interesting, though completely biased. And that was followed by a programme meeting which basically outlined the next few weeks. I am beginning to feel the crunch of finding a one to two week placement with some sort of theatre/film company. The leads I've had have fallen through and now I'm at a loss. But there's time yet.
Thursday was the beginning of the Chekhov study of The Cherry Orchard. We were put in a heated carpeted fluorescent lit room for 7 hours and read the play aloud twice. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Now, I have a bit of trouble with chekhov sometimes, and especially with this play. I've read most if not all his stuff and have seen Alan Cumming and Diane Wiest in "The Seagull" which was brilliant. But The Cherry Orchard is one that is very tough for me to connect to. And I find in our group analysis that I don't necessarily agree with what other's are finding. But we got through that mind numbing day and my impending migraine that I was getting started to die down to only a simmer.
And here is where the title of this blog comes in. There are many kinds of methods to acting. I basically take pieces of all those methods that work for me and then bunch them all together. One of them is a thing called substitution. Now this can be unhealthy at times but also can be great when in need of sense memory. You see, Friday (today) was the day that we had to perform/audition for parts in The Cherry Orchard. We had to prepare a monologue from a contemporary play and perform it for the two directors and the class. I chose one of my audition pieces that has resonated very well for me over the past few years from Neil Simon's "Chapter Two", a play I truly love.
However, I find I can only get the best performance out of me when I recall a past (ok, ok, THE past heartbreak) of my life. It involves recalling the happiness that you had with that person, and then feeling the loss of it all over again. This may not work for most relationships, and it certainly wouldn't work with some of the ones I've had that have ended, but this specific one has always haunted me, and I knew it would work.
So Thursday night, I rehearse in my bedroom, I do the work, I do the research, and I do it well. And today I performed it and I think it went very well. It certainly wasn't perfect, but it was honest. Unfortunately though it has drudged up things that I'd much prefer to keep buried. Scabs that I thought were healed have now been picked off. And it has left me a bit raw. And incredibly annoyed with myself for still being affected.
What IS the moral you ask? What is the point to this story? I suppose it partly explains why acting is so hard. It makes you look at all your sore spots and fragilities, and then it makes you use them. It also begs to ask the question, where is the line that you should draw between healthy use of memory and when you should just try to pretend. Sometimes actors use too much of "what was", and it messes with them mentally. Also, sometimes actors use inappropriate memories that hinder rather than progress your work. You have to be very careful that you choose a memory that truly fits your scene as well as not eff you up for weeks.
I think though that there is a separation. I didn't do my monologue today, pretending that the guy I was talking to was my ex. That was only done last night in my room. But I could recall the feeling and desperation that I felt towards said past and then use it towards this new guy. Unfortunately Stanislavsky would still call this representational acting, but I don't care today. Because frankly it got the job done. And if I'm feeling the echoes now of "what was", I can only imagine the pitfalls if I had used "what is".
Regardless, at the end of the audition I was cast as Renevskaya, the matriarch, and am very pleased with the challenge of the role. And these echoes will fade in a few days. After all, time heals all wounds. ...or is it Time wounds all heels? Either way. I'm taking tonight off for myself.
We have class tomorrow (Saturday). It is a six hour workshop with the people from the Globe theatre. And then it's Guy Fawke's Day so hopefully we'll see some good fireworks in the evening. Remember, remember the 5th of November. :) Should be good.
Missing you.
So I haven't written much this week because, well, things haven't been all that interesting.
Tuesday I was in school for a total of one hour. We had tutorials which is basically the equivalent of the American Parent-teacher conference but without the parents. Normally when you have these meetings in America, it means you are in trouble. But here, it is genuinely to check on your progress and to see how you are adjusting to life here.
My first meeting was with Anna Birch, the research faculty member who is to guide us on our research paper. It lasted five minutes. She asked what my ideas were and how I'd go about it, and me being the person I am had a full couple of pages written. She let me get through about a page of it before she said it would be fine and sent me on my merry way.
The meeting with the dept head Mark Saunders was a little more useful. I gave feedback on how the Ensemble project went for me, said I was very comfortable here and well challenged, and he gave me feedback by saying that I'm doing very well. He seemed very happy with my progress. It was nice to hear that considering that most of the time I've been flying by the seat of my pants, crossing my fingers that I'm doing something right.
Wednesday was a two hour lecture by a Scottish theatre critic. Interesting, though completely biased. And that was followed by a programme meeting which basically outlined the next few weeks. I am beginning to feel the crunch of finding a one to two week placement with some sort of theatre/film company. The leads I've had have fallen through and now I'm at a loss. But there's time yet.
Thursday was the beginning of the Chekhov study of The Cherry Orchard. We were put in a heated carpeted fluorescent lit room for 7 hours and read the play aloud twice. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Now, I have a bit of trouble with chekhov sometimes, and especially with this play. I've read most if not all his stuff and have seen Alan Cumming and Diane Wiest in "The Seagull" which was brilliant. But The Cherry Orchard is one that is very tough for me to connect to. And I find in our group analysis that I don't necessarily agree with what other's are finding. But we got through that mind numbing day and my impending migraine that I was getting started to die down to only a simmer.
And here is where the title of this blog comes in. There are many kinds of methods to acting. I basically take pieces of all those methods that work for me and then bunch them all together. One of them is a thing called substitution. Now this can be unhealthy at times but also can be great when in need of sense memory. You see, Friday (today) was the day that we had to perform/audition for parts in The Cherry Orchard. We had to prepare a monologue from a contemporary play and perform it for the two directors and the class. I chose one of my audition pieces that has resonated very well for me over the past few years from Neil Simon's "Chapter Two", a play I truly love.
However, I find I can only get the best performance out of me when I recall a past (ok, ok, THE past heartbreak) of my life. It involves recalling the happiness that you had with that person, and then feeling the loss of it all over again. This may not work for most relationships, and it certainly wouldn't work with some of the ones I've had that have ended, but this specific one has always haunted me, and I knew it would work.
So Thursday night, I rehearse in my bedroom, I do the work, I do the research, and I do it well. And today I performed it and I think it went very well. It certainly wasn't perfect, but it was honest. Unfortunately though it has drudged up things that I'd much prefer to keep buried. Scabs that I thought were healed have now been picked off. And it has left me a bit raw. And incredibly annoyed with myself for still being affected.
What IS the moral you ask? What is the point to this story? I suppose it partly explains why acting is so hard. It makes you look at all your sore spots and fragilities, and then it makes you use them. It also begs to ask the question, where is the line that you should draw between healthy use of memory and when you should just try to pretend. Sometimes actors use too much of "what was", and it messes with them mentally. Also, sometimes actors use inappropriate memories that hinder rather than progress your work. You have to be very careful that you choose a memory that truly fits your scene as well as not eff you up for weeks.
I think though that there is a separation. I didn't do my monologue today, pretending that the guy I was talking to was my ex. That was only done last night in my room. But I could recall the feeling and desperation that I felt towards said past and then use it towards this new guy. Unfortunately Stanislavsky would still call this representational acting, but I don't care today. Because frankly it got the job done. And if I'm feeling the echoes now of "what was", I can only imagine the pitfalls if I had used "what is".
Regardless, at the end of the audition I was cast as Renevskaya, the matriarch, and am very pleased with the challenge of the role. And these echoes will fade in a few days. After all, time heals all wounds. ...or is it Time wounds all heels? Either way. I'm taking tonight off for myself.
We have class tomorrow (Saturday). It is a six hour workshop with the people from the Globe theatre. And then it's Guy Fawke's Day so hopefully we'll see some good fireworks in the evening. Remember, remember the 5th of November. :) Should be good.
Missing you.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Batmah for Jesus...or just to turn the lights on.
So normally I regale you with tales of acting goodness. But today we had our day off so I have nothing to regale. Other than my adventures in the laundry room. (those of you that have read my fb status, you've heard this already).
Today I bummed around my room doing very little but then decided to be productive and do some laundry.
I take my bag of laundry downstairs and throw it in. This is the only time I get to watch tv since I don't actually own one and since I was the only one in the room, I could change channel at will. There's nothing like being queen of the remote. It doesn't matter that all I really found was crappy american shows, I was in control.
However, the lights in the room itself are motion sensored. So if you sit for too long in one attitude, the lights go dark and you are sitting there like a creepster in utter darkness.
Me, being the lazy ass that I am did not want to get up every five minutes to turn on the lights, nor did I want to frighten any soul that came down to do their laundry (be it halloween or not). Can you just imagine coming down with your laundry, the lights flicker, you turn, and see this american girl in her pajamas sitting in the dark by herself. yeah.
So. To remedy the situation, and yet still remain lazy, everytime the lights would go out, I'd do a high kick while laying on the couch. The lights would be triggered, and I could remain horizontal. Ingenious.
That is unless you count the fact that I am just as odd (if not odder) when you consider I'm down in that room high kicking for an hour while watching telly.
What can I say? I'm a winner.
Today I bummed around my room doing very little but then decided to be productive and do some laundry.
I take my bag of laundry downstairs and throw it in. This is the only time I get to watch tv since I don't actually own one and since I was the only one in the room, I could change channel at will. There's nothing like being queen of the remote. It doesn't matter that all I really found was crappy american shows, I was in control.
However, the lights in the room itself are motion sensored. So if you sit for too long in one attitude, the lights go dark and you are sitting there like a creepster in utter darkness.
Me, being the lazy ass that I am did not want to get up every five minutes to turn on the lights, nor did I want to frighten any soul that came down to do their laundry (be it halloween or not). Can you just imagine coming down with your laundry, the lights flicker, you turn, and see this american girl in her pajamas sitting in the dark by herself. yeah.
So. To remedy the situation, and yet still remain lazy, everytime the lights would go out, I'd do a high kick while laying on the couch. The lights would be triggered, and I could remain horizontal. Ingenious.
That is unless you count the fact that I am just as odd (if not odder) when you consider I'm down in that room high kicking for an hour while watching telly.
What can I say? I'm a winner.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
I am not a One-Trick Pony...at least I hope not.
After two weeks of grueling work, it was all over in a little over an hour. Poof.
Later I received compliments on my voice work as well as my acute ability to play an intense powerful bitch. ...yeah. Thank you?
The truth is, that IS a compliment. And I take it that way. However, I do worry that that may be the one thing I can do. I hope it's not the ONLY thing I can do. It tends to be the fall back, or the card I keep in my back pocket. It makes me wonder 1. why do I normally take a line that way? and 2. Is that me going for what is easy. I don't want to be a one-trick pony.
I am sure there is a career out there to be had playing only bad guys, cranky secretaries, and bitchy neighbors. And I'm sure I would fit right in. But that will not take me to the next level (whatever the hell that means.)
Yes, there are some parts that I will just never play. But I also know that as human beings, we have so many shades and colors to us. It's not just Happy, Sad, Mad, etc. There are so many facets that make up who we are. The problem is making sure you can bring them forth so that you make a real person as opposed to a caricature.
I think it may go back to the whole "self perception" thing. How do you see yourself? How do others see you? Which is fact and which is fiction?
I don't think I'm quite chameleon enough yet. But I'm hoping at some point in this year, someone will give me that chance. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find some shades and colors I never knew I had.
After the performance on Friday I crashed. And I mean CRASHED. I went home and didn't move again till Saturday night. I wasn't going to move then either but my across the hall neight AW from the MA musical theatre course invited me to a small gathering at an apartment off campus. I am REALLY glad I went. It was nice being around musical theatre people again for a bit. They are a different breed, my friends. And it was also very low key which is how I prefer to spend my evenings anyway. We watched Reservoir Dogs and then had an impromptu jam session with someone on keyboard, someone on acoustic guitar (named Isabel or Scarlet, we couldn't decide), and just sitting around singing songs. I was plied with just enough beer to do a few Chinese grama impressions as well as sing India.Arie's "Ready For Love" and we sprawled out on the couch getting to know one another. Didn't get home till about 3 a.m.
Today I once again kept it easy. Saw a movie (The Help...for the third time) and then hibernated in my room. I very badly want to get out of Glasgow and see a bit of Scotland but I knew very well that my body and mind needed this weekend to sit and do nothing. We also get tomorrow off for our mid term break. And will have conferences (they call them Tutorials here) with our dept head to gage our progress on Tuesday. This week, in theory will be much more on the slow side. Thank. God.
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