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.
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