On Glaswegian radio this evening, a student downstairs is practicing a scottish flute of some sort. The tune is from The Lord of the Rings. It's like being in the Shire, people.
Today was the first day of class, and I have to add that no other profession in the world, save acting, will begin with teaching you how to walk. But we'll come back to that a bit later...
Last night I read and finished much of the reading assigned. Read the Cherry Orchard again just to see if it would bring something new now that I know I'll be playing a character from it. ...it didn't really. For something that is deemed Realism, I didn't feel all that real most of the time.
But about 730pm or so (or as they say here, half past seven. of which it always takes me a moment to convert that in my head) a slip of paper was shoved under my room door. It was a letter from one of the fellow flat mates that I hadnt met, asking for a sit down in the kitchen. Now I immediately think, right then, time to set out the rules and such. But no. It was so much better.
The flatmate in question's name is Marousa. A psychology major from Greece who is basically Lucille Ball incarnate. I meet this girl and she is this big bubble of joy with a giggle that makes you grin till your face practically splits in two. She plopped down at the kitchen counter with us (MC showed as well as Farmgirl Haley and Tinkle the Ivories Chen. Ok, so I'm just giving everyone nicknames like they are in the mafia but you get the idea of who they are better I think.) Anyway, Marousa Ball plops down and starts unloading these massive grocery bags. She brought us a big box of chocolate, Pictionary, and Cranium board games. With a giggle she explained that she just wanted to get to know us. So we stayed up drawing clues and laughing at each other when the translation was completely botched. I suppose it's to be expected with 1 Britain, 1 Greek, 1 Chinese, and 2 Americans. (Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke. A Brit, a Greek, a Chinese....walk into a bar...).
This morning was the official name change of our school. As some of you know it used to be called RSAMD (Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama). Which now is The Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. Perhaps the first was not high falootin' enough, I don't know. But the result was that they put on exhibitions of work. One of which was last year's MACCT cohort putting on monologues and scenes from Shakespeare. I popped in before class just in time to see the Prologue from Henry V. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOh for a muuuuuuuuuuuuuuse of fire. All you AMDA people are laughing or rolling your eyes at me right now. I know, I know. I thought so, too. But this one was...different. He was very good and very...different. Did I mention he was different? He acted out a literal movement for each. single. word. I have to say that I actually liked it. Even though it did take forever. It was like watching someone run a marathon with how physical he was, running all about.
THEN. Our very first class began. And it was a four hour movement class with our department head, Mark Saunders. The first thing we did was very much like patting your head and rubbing your belly at the same time. A lesson at constant movement and coordination. Surreal really, when you think "yep. this is my job." But it's fascinating how little we are aware of our own bodies. When was the last time you looked straight in the full length mirror and took stock of what you saw? Is one shoulder lower than the other? Where is your weight distributed? Where do you feel your breath? Are you HOLDING your breath? You see, unless you know your body and its tendencies, you cannot possibly create someone else. And that's what you want to do, create human life with a background, a present, and hopefully a future.
The next exercise involved you and a partner and a very long stick of bamboo. It resembled a switch and to my thoughts, we were going to be walloped when we did something wrong. (not really. but the thought did cross my mind). The point was to have one person stand on each end and lift the stick with a single finger. You look into the other's eyes, and only their eyes. And then you move about the room, any which way, but still being careful not to drop the stick. You can switch back and forth who's leading and following but eventually a story comes out. Some people appeared to be brother and sister in their movements. Some, a battle of swords and wits. My partner, K, and I...well, you know how I am. I tend to lead. So after he and I got up for our turn to show the class, everyone reflected what it was they saw. Some of the feedback was as follows: "It looked as though it was between trainor and dog." "Stacy the dominatrix. Teasin' him." "Stacy controlled and tested him."
That being said, it was a success. It was a story. And it was enjoyable. K and I were both receptive to each other. But go figure, right? Must remember to follow as well as lead- lesson of the day. Not that what I did was bad. But that that is a default position that I always take: When in doubt, take charge. I found that when I tried to allow him to lead (key phrase ALLOW him) we dropped the stick more often. And it took me longer to gain K's trust. Something to mull over...
Then we spent two hours learning how to walk. yeah, you heard me. First we studied each other's walk. One person would get up and walk around the room. Then another would walk behind them and copy their stride. Then overemphasize it. The first person would step out and watch themselves through the eyes of others. Fas.cin.ating. And lots of laughing. I apparently walk like a new yorker hellbent on getting where I'm going.
Le Coq (the base method taught here) believed that much of our being can be read through the walk. We dissected each "step" in a step. Put the heal down, put the ball down, sink your weight down, push forward your weight, lift up on standing foot, lift other knee, kick out foot, and put heel down. rinse and repeat. We then spent time taking one of those "steps" and putting more emphasis on it. (Have I lost you all yet?) But by emphasizing just one of those steps in your step, you can bring out a character trait that you never knew was there. By walking heavily on your heels, you can portray cockiness or swagger. By focusing on the lift up on the standing foot, you can portray an elegant and superior quality. All these things can be felt and read without a word.
So. Homework, should you choose to accept it (it was assigned so I shall do it, too). Observe someone with a "special" walk. Now, don't go for easy like the elderly or a three year old. They are much too easy and pronounced. You must find a person, and watch them, and decide for yourself which "step" is pronounced, why is that interesting, and how does that make you perceive them. I think mine will be the Tinkling the Ivories Chen girl from the kitchen. She has the most beautiful insecure shuffle of a walk that reflects exactly who she is (as I know thus far.)
In other news, I've had my first American Cuisine Craving. And you'll never guess what it is. A SLURPEE. I would KILL someone for a slurpee right now. Alas, no 7-11s in sight. So second piece of homework for you all is to run to your nearest gas station, get a slurpee (not banana flavored, because that's just gross), slurp it down till you get brain freeze, and think of me. Please and thanks.
This evening I think will be a quiet one for me. My body is not the body of a 21 year old and I never noticed until this year. After four hours of running around a large room at top speed, I certainly feel aches in areas I never knew existed. But it was a good day. I received very nice feedback from Mark and I take it, acknowledge it, and throw it in the back of my mind. You can't dwell over the compliments too much, or you'll not see the ditch that you'll fall in coming up in front of you. But you acknowledge it and let it reassure you that you are in the right place at the right time. Which I am.
Now excuse me while I hobble off to bed. :)
Thinking of you xoxo
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