Hello Friends. It's been a long time. I'm very tired so I'll warn you there's much less entertainment in this post and much more fact. And I don't even know where to begin...
After Christmas break back in the US, I flew back to Glasgow last Thursday. I don't think I've ever had jetlag that bad before. I was going to bed at 5am, sleeping till 3pm, and unable to change it no matter how much caffeine I injested or how many friends I called upon to help me stay up. P.s. the update on that post where I thought the maintenance guy called me a "cow"...yeah, he definitely said "pal" this time. Which is a totally acceptable scottish thing to call someone. I'm one of his favorite tenants. Mystery solved.
Sunday rolled around and it was time to catch the early train to London to start our month stint at the Globe. On two hours sleep I (and five others) caught the 7:50am train to Kings Cross station via Edinburgh. I like train rides. You see the country, you never have to worry about directions, and there's a trolley refreshment carte that comes to you.
We made our way to our housing in the Bloomsbury district which apparently is very central and very wealthy. Our housing isn't exactly posh, but like nyc, you pay for location. My two roommates are lovely and we tend to wake up laughing, put on music, make each other coffee, and start the day in a good place.
I like London. Like, a lot. It's beautiful here. The city is slower, to be sure. And all the buildings are much shorter than in America. You can actually see the stars when they come out at night. We've been a bit spoiled in that the weather has been clear and in the 40-50 degree range. Not bad for January.
After getting situated, I met D for a wonderful evening of ice skating at Somerset House's outdoor rink, then drinks at the Lyceum Tavern, and finally a long walk ALL over the city. Through the theatre district, Trafalgar Square, etc. I will say that on my walk to meet D, I encountered a rather inebriated London gentleman who was very adamant about my "walk" and decided he wanted to walk with me and harass me for a good 15 blocks. I had a moment where I had the choice to go fully New York on his ass, or just hop in a cab. Seeing as how I was looking good and didn't want to muss my hair, I chose the cab route. But he doesn't know how lucky he is that he is still able to procreate one day (though heaven help society if and when that ever happens).
The next day we didnt have our intro class until 430pm, so I ran errands and then joined a few cohort members for the walk to end all walks. We saw Buckingham Palace (the Queen was in but we didnt stop by), The Eye of London (their ginormous ferris wheel), Parliament and Big Ben, etc. Too many places to count. The walk to the Globe from our place is around 45minutes. You have to cross the river Thames along the Millenium bridge (the one that Voldemort destroyed in Harry Potter), then walk past the Tate Modern museum and finally you've made it to the mecca.
The intro was the normal "hi, this is who we are and what we do." But then...they took us to the stage. The. Stage. We all tried to play it cool. I kept thinking to myself, don't freak out, don't be a spaz...and then you see it. And it's like a kid at Disneyland for the first time. Magical. This is where all those famous people performed famous plays and actually did them well. This is where Mark Rylance worked/works. And this. Is where I am going to work. And my face cracked into the biggest goofiest smile. I don't generally have many dreams anymore. I don't remember when I stopped being specific, or when I stopped believing big things could actually happen to me. But I did. And I hadn't even realized that this was one that I still had. And I'm here.
But it gets better. Because then, they let us get on it. Some people couldn't help jumping up and down from uncontained joy. Some teared up. Some just stood there trying to breathe. There is NOTHING like standing there center stage, with the lights on you, the open sky above you, the paintings, the balcony where Juliet has her famous scene, the Oak floor, the two huge hand rolled pillars, and you. Incredible.
Afterwards we had a reception with some teachers and some wine at the bar that's connected to the Globe called the Swan. And then...the trek home. I've never walked so much in my entire life. And I've never been so tired.
Tuesday I slept better. But not much in quantity. Up early for the journey to the theatre and our first real day of class. Before class we first went to the exhibit (museum) for the Globe. Then Context class with a sweet young teacher named Simon Smith. This class is basically a theatre history of not only King Lear (our play) but Shakespeare, the Globe itself, and the edits of Shakespeare's work. We also study early modern rehearsals and performances.
Following that was a six hour acting class based off of Michael Chekhov's method. Our teacher, Tom Cornford, is remarkable. He's focused, articulate, demanding, and blunt. I think we'll get along fine. Or he'll crush my soul. Either way, I can't wait. That sounds masochistic, I know, but he's got that kind of formidable nature that precisely what I need. I don't like being confronted, but sometimes, with me, there's no other way I learn. There's no other way I'd let myself be vulnerable or go to the places I need to go. I'm just too stubborn. So finding someone who's more stubborn than I am, and in a place of authority, is going to be an needed obstacle.
The work itself bases a lot off of gestures, atmosphere, the qualities of each. Technically you could say that the Content of a Scene is given thorugh action, atmosphere, and sensation-which are expressed through Gestures. The point is to bring out "movements invisible to the external eye." To put it plainly, you bring out your inner life by connecting physical action to the words. Tom also creates a new way of terminology. Rather than giving weak direction by saying, "ok, your character is evil." (which is general and doesn't give you much other than the stereotype). He'll say, this scene is Crimson Red. ...I know it sounds crazy. But it works. And it lets the actors think for themselves, interpret for themselves, so that their performance is connected and their own. I swear it makes sense. It was just six hours of info being hurled at us that I'm still marinating on it.
I've been a bit frustrated with how fuzzy my brain is. I can't seem to get on top of things or engage. I have low patience and it's very hard for me not to just shut down, not look anyone in the eye, and phone it all in. The fact that I'm at the effing Globe and I'll never get this chance again is the only reason I'm pushing through it. That, and the fact that I have some people here in my programme who I truly look forward to seeing everyday. Friends that have found a way to make it feel less lonely and overwhelming.
However, today was a rough one. I once again didn't want to play. And what's more, I wasn't tolerant of myself. When you wake up on the unfortunate side of the bed, you just say to yourself, "self, this is where I'm at. Let it be." But today, I said to myself, "Self, this is where I'm at. Why can't you be nicer, more patient, and kinder? Why do you always have to lose your temper? Why do you get so angry over petty things? Why aren't you receiving and giving freely today?" Now. That is WAY too much thinking which gets in the way of the work. But luckily only one of the classes today reflected my...well...crappiness (for lack of a better word).
The day started with singing class. That's right. We have a choral class where we learn harmonies to old shakespearean time songs. So fun. And we sounded really good. I'm very proud of those especially who are shy about singing. And it was fun (though not easy) to get myself back in to practice. I've certainly lost the ear for notes. Not to mention being bumped up to 1st soprano.
Second class was the toughy. Text class is taught by Giles. A brilliantly well versed man who, for me, does not articulate his meaning so well. I know he knows his stuff. More than I ever will. But his method of teaching does not coincide with my method of learning. So I sat there fuming for most of it. Which brought on more irritation because I couldn't stand that I couldn't stand the class. If only the Lord had made me of sweeter stuff. But I'm afraid it's all metal nails dipped in glitter for me. I'm pretty, but I'm brutal. And 9 days out of 10, I like me exactly as I am. But that one day...oh well.
Next class. It redeemed the entire day. Movement with THE Glynn Macdonald. This lady is sharp as a tack with her stark blond hair and quick wit. She has a sting of authority as she bangs her little drum to make us walk in time. She's one who could demand without ever raising her voice. Her mood is mercurial as it changes from sweet granny or dictator of the Alexander Technique. She suffers no bullshit (or "bovine excrement" as she calls it, because "we don't supply shovels") and you can make as many misakes as you need...as long as they're honest ones. She's worked on every Globe show for the last 15 years. She said her job is like being Drano. She's the unclogger of drains for the actors. She strips away bad habits so that you can be a clean slate to build a dramatic personae on.
We took the Globe stage, being grounded in the space. Letting any tour that came through look at us. It's interesting what it feels like to stand neutrally and allow people to look at you. And to take in your environment. We walked around the space acknowledging ourselves, then a partner, then including the audience. Very much like Stanislavsky's circles of attention. We then did a small exercise that was about "taking your power". The point is that you are here, not to hide, but to give and receive openly on that stage. To take that electricity and allow people to see you, but then channel it into a confidence. That you belong there. And you have something to give. Ok, that sounds a little guru-ish. But there's something 6th sense-like that you have to embrace. It's part of what makes theatre alive.
Anyway, the exercise is one by one, each of us takes up center of the stage between the two mini pillars. The rest of us are in a line on each side creating an aisle and giving the person space and a direct eye line to the audience. They stand there, push their arms out to the sides, and imagine or take the power and full attention of the theatre. You lower your arms, look straight out, and take two steps forward. It is the most command you will ever experience. And after doing it myself, it made all the difference in the world. You respect where you are, but you don't idolize it. It is your space just as it is for any other actor that has walked the boards. You belong. Yes, you have to earn it. But it is there and it's listening.
We end our session in a circle as we say:
"I take from the heavens, all that I need" (reaching up to the sky)
"and I bring it into me" (one hand on heart, one on belly)
"I take from the earth, all that I need" (touching the ground)
"and I bring it into me" (heart, belly)
"and when I have it inside me" (extend your arms to the audience)
"I give it away".
You look out. You say a quiet, "thank you" to the space. Exit Upstage Center.
A few of us, me included, became emotional. There was just something so beautiful about that. Clear. Pure. Like a prayer.
I need a good cry. Not out of sadness. But in release. You feel a lot here. And sometimes, you just don't want to. But it's so good here.
Other pearls of wisdom by Glynn (admittedly stolen from other sources):
"you need to have the heart of a fairy and the skin of a rhinoceros. it's just unfortunate that you find it's usually the other way around."
"A humble person doesn't think less of himself. but thinks of himself less."
"Wake up. You're drunk. And this is the edge of the roof." -Rumi
We go back to our dressing room. Yes we have THE dressing rooms that the Globe casts do. We pass the Green Room with all the lounge mismatched chairs and past production posters hanging on the walls. We are exhausted. We are emotional. We are exactly where we want to be.
We finish the day with watching the taped version of the Globe's Richard II starring Mark Rylance. I almost fell asleep but what I did catch was brilliant. Enough to be inspired and a nice reminder to push through whatever cranky-pants moments or loneliness I may have.
Well...that was epic. I promise I'll keep this up better. It's just hard to eek out anytime to write with the jam packed days. But I'll find a way.
Now off to bed. I've got to walk to the theatre again in about 8hours. ugh. I'ma have buns and legs of steel people. Look out. :)
Thinking of you x
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