Archive for April, 2006

Selfishness

April 12, 2006

There’s a funny thing about actor training school. Unless you’re careful, you’ll wind up learning some things that they didn’t mean to teach you. That is – going through this environment, in this dominant culture of classical theatre, there are a handful of, shall we say, byproducts of the education. This is one of them.

v1: Selfishness.
This is in my view the most insidious and unnatural of the things to learn from Stanislavski based actor training. The basic idea in Stanislavski is that you do things on stage – speak, move, don’t speak, don’t move – because you want something. Everything is driven by desire. You speak each word, commence each action, in order to achieve your objective. Anyone who’s spent any time at all in a rehearsal room knows the value of this basic precept. Without an actor’s intention, a script becomes meaningless drivel.

The underlying precept is that people are selfish and will stop at nothing to get what they want.

Perhaps this is a belief you share. That is fine. But drawing this conclusion from actor training is a grotesque mistake. The mistake is not in the believing of it – the mistake in question is to assume that because this type of human activity produces the most engaging drama it must also be an a ccurate reflection of what it is to be human.

Maybe we are rabidly competetive, selfish creatures. I think if you’re going to draw that conclusion you’d better do it based on something else than what’s most entertaining to watch. There are plenty of wonderful things about the people I love that wouldn’t make for good entertainment. Plenty of the finest and most meaningful moments in my life would make terrible theatre.

But acting teachers, directors, and (most tragically and most completely) actors conflate theatre with reality – constructing a completely bullshit view of human interaction.

3.06

April 5, 2006

This has been a hectic couple of weeks.

Professional:

I'm still thinking a lot about graduation – or rather, I would be, if I had time to think. Our showcase presentation continues to be a total organizational mess: I feel like I spend more time in transit from one rehearsal to another than I do actually rehearsing.

Some of the scenes (actually billed as "chips off the dramatic canon") are drastically underrehearsed, but the full length play is coming along nicely – if I can just remember to be a human being again. Let it breathe. We open on saturday.

The space that we're performing in is a nightmare, and some things are seriously not getting done. For instance, the marquee on the outside of the theatre proudly claims that we're performing Baby With the Bathwater this March. Whatever. Frustration can be useful. Bitterness is crippling. Our director (after an extremely rough final dress, tech-wise) very calmly said: "It's clear that there are certain things that aren't goin to happen unless I lose my shit. So I'm going to lose my shit. I'm the basketball coach who goes onto the court so that he can get thrown off the court so the players can play the game." And I thought good: I'm glad we've arrived here by reasoned, logiacl steps. And then he lost his shit at the tech crew. Our first preview went very smoothly.

All in all, I'm looking forward to teaching a Guthrie Monday one-off session about ten yars down the line and regaling them – in the Joe Dowling Studio space, home to their senior showcase, complete with dressing rooms and crossovers and lobbies and all of the amenities provided at one of the country's most sophisticated theatre centers – with tales of the early years.

I got work for the summer. I haven't signed the contract yet, but I think I'm going out to Cape Cod for the summer to work on some Shakespeare. This is with Shakespeare on the Cape, a company founded out of the class above me in the Guthrie program. It's exciting. I'll be doing Tybalt and the Friar in Romeo and Juliet, and Silvius and Jacques in As You Like It. Also, fight choreography. We'll do a run for the whole summer in homosexual capital of the world – Provincetown – and then come back to the guthrie for a two week run in their new black box theatre. We'll be the first shakespeare to perform in the Guthrie's new megaplex. Exciting. And I got offered an apprenticeship at Great River Shakespeare, but I turned them down. Which killed me.

Personal:

My roommate is probably the single most positive person I've ever known. She's totally rad. The other day we went down by the river behind a big industrial buiding of some sort (something to do with the train yard not far awaty, but we can't figure out what) and had a bonfire. We were putting studs in our clothing and wearing operation ivy hoodies and boots talking about the politics of race and class and drinking. It was as if someone had decided to write a script for two punks and had decided to make it as cliche as possible. It was also totally sweet.

Speaking of politics, I'm setting up a site to push for Al Franken's 08 bid for Minnesota Senate. Look for updates to that in the next issue.

I'm thinking more and more seriously about moving to Mexico for a few months after cape cod. I feel like I could use a refresher on the big picture stuff. Like what the hell am I doing on this planet, anyway? I've been so narrow for the last four years, I want to broaden the scope back out. My good friend Sid and I are having existential crises (his, it seems, is much sharper than mine) and we're having existential breakfast soon.

It's amazing what a clean room can do for your headspace. Never underestimate kipple.