Friday, July 29, 2016

Casting Calls

“One man in his time plays many parts.” –As You Like It (2.7. 1040)

Casting Call. Part 1                                                  (7-10-16)
I got the email today. I’m playing Friar Francis and Antonio. Can you believe it?

Okay, so I don’t really know who the Friar and Antonio are. This is the first time I’ve ever read the play. Time to read the play again and do some research.

We begin play rehearsal with our next session on Tuesday.

Casting Call. Part 2                                                 (7-11-16)
Umm, all of the interns had dual roles in our show. But the Friar and Antonio are in the same scene on stage at the same time. As a teacher, I’m used to wearing different hats in the classroom – scholar, counselor, male role model – but have never, or rarely, had to exhibit multiple personalities. I texted Tim and he said they had some ideas for this. Well, this could be interesting.


You can see the full blog of my experiences this summer on the Saratoga Shakespeare Company website at www.saratogashakespeare.com and on my own Out of the Centrifuge blog at www.outofthecentrifuge.blogspot.com.

Monday, July 25, 2016

I Do Like Green Eggs and Hamlet

This bodes some strange eruption to our state.” – Hamlet (1.1. 69)

Day 5&6                                                              (7-9/7-10-2016)

Exploring lines is a fascinating exercise. Two different instructors = two different ways of seeing. And we did it over two separate days.

Tim takes a more literary, academic approach. Doug takes a more visceral, psychological approach.

Tim led us through scansion of our lines (or breaking them down into metrical feet) and examining what the text offers us in the way of imagery, repetition, alliteration, etc. All of these explorations to many students in a classroom may seem just mundane (read: “useless”) academic assignments, but they help an actor – or any active reader – get directions into the sound and meaning of the text. Especially the “heightened text” that Shakespeare provides.

He told us that each speech was an argument, and should be delivered as if you were trying to convince a jury. That puts the lines in a new context. (I never thought of it that way.) He asked everyone the point they were trying to get across before they began.

Tim also encouraged us to play with the text.

For example, when Amy did a scene that showed inner conflict, he had colleagues run out at her and she would have to push them back to their seats while she continued her monologue. Tommy was advised to look at a different audience member each time he delivered one of a list of questions in his part. The reminder of eye contact was good advice for a couple of us, as we saw how it worked well to feed off the reactions of the audience and to engage the audience members in what each actor was doing. And when Thalia started wringing her hands as she performed a scene from Hamlet, she was directed to make it bigger, putting more of her body into it. She ended up sitting on the floor with her second take.

Some of the interns had time to perform a third time, but this time without the games that had triggered their better performance. This worked very well because, as Tim said, the previous performance was already in the actors’ muscle memory and can be recalled easily in a future performance.

When it came to my turn and I shared my Iago soliloquy, Tim stood Tommy beside me: “This is Othello. Now give him a big old man hug.” He then led Tommy away as I restarted my soliloquy, but brought him back a few lines later and directed me that Othello wasn’t really there but to imagine he was. I was amazed at how the silent person acted as a prop that I could work with. I scoffed in Tommy’s direction as I said, “He holds me well,/The better shall my purpose work on him,” and moved around to his other side and got close to his ear with, “After some time to abuse Othello’s ear,/That his wife is too familiar with [Cassio].”

These types of games could be interesting back in my own non-acting classroom.

On the other hand, Doug started with each actor asking about us personally. At times, I got uncomfortable with the private nature of the questions. But then I recalled a recent article in which actors on the new Suicide Squad movie said their director, David Ayer, in their pre-movie preparations would prod them with questions to reveal actors vulnerabilities and use this information later to elicit strong emotions. During a key scene, for example, he had one actor use profanity to call another actor names. “Some of the stuff she said really pissed me off, and that’s exactly what he wanted me to feel,” said Joel Kinnaman, who plays team leader Rick Flag. Ayers said he uses this method “to create memorable characters, not just actors standing around modeling costumes.”

With Doug, one intern admitted that his internal voice always second guessed his choices. When the actor recited his lines, Doug had him run to the corner and scream “Shut up shut up shut up” before coming back to continue. When Josh second-guessed his choice of soliloquies from Hamlet, Doug had him repeat “I’m a f------ genius!” and then cued Josh to say it at various points in his piece.

The result for each actor – as with movie director Ayer – was a more energized performance.

Doug also worked on our breathing, sometimes massaging their shoulders to relax their breathing or having them hold a hand on their stomach to feel their breathing coming from a deeper place. He made sure that we thought of each line from our monologues as individual thoughts, and breathing in between each line/thought.

I am constantly amazed at the depths that these instructors are getting out of these highly talented young actors. And me.

I actually thought the interns were putting me on after seeing the vast difference in their individual performances. It reminded me of handicap day in a bowling league, making sure to underperform to ensure the advantage of a better handicap for future matches. Difference here being that the interns’ first performances, I thought, were great. The direction of Tim and Doug, and the great adaptability of the interns, made the second takes just so much greater.

It’s the end of Week One. Wow.

While all of our work so far has been prefaced with the reminder that none of it is an audition, and that there is no right or wrong, the instructors have been looking at us to determine the casting for our production of Shakespeare’s comedy Much Ado About Nothing. They say that they will be casting parts based upon which they think will stretch us personally. The Teacher Me sees this as great formative assessment. The Student Me grows anxious to learn what I will be doing in the play. They gave us nice bound green-cover scripts of a stripped-down, hour-long adaptation of the play that Tim and Doug put together. I read through the full version in my Riverside Shakespeare. I’m excited to see the difference in this new one.

Looking back at my blogs so far, I feel a little like Dr. Seuss’ confused Green Eggs and Ham character. While everything here is so different from what I normally do and my first reaction is skeptical, I find that I’m loving it.

They say they will send us our Much Ado roles before we come back together next week. Whatever role I get, I trust that, like the rest of this experience, it will surpass my expectations.



You can see the full blog of my experiences this summer on the Saratoga Shakespeare Company website at www.saratogashakespeare.com and on my own Out of the Centrifuge blog at www.outofthecentrifuge.blogspot.com.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

I Pray You, Remember The Teacher

"What’s done cannot be undone.” Macbeth (5.1. 2189-2190)


Day 4                                                               (7-8-16)

Looking back at the work we have done so far in the intern ensemble, the word that best describes my mind is Conflicted. My mind keeps raging in a constant battle between the Teacher and the Actor.

The Teacher must juggle so many different roles over the course of a day – content expert, lesson planner, troubleshooter, crowd controller, psychiatrist, social worker, role model, etc. – that I feel like I usually take one deep breath at the beginning of the day and then take a second one seven hours later. (Ask any teacher at the end of the day how it went. I bet they’ll take a deep inhale and exhale before they answer.) I try to listen closely for the constantly changing needs of my 150 students, many times ignoring my own needs for food or bathroom breaks. For the most part, I feel like I do it all in isolation. (I can be so focused on what I do in my classes with students that I go days without seeing the teacher in the next room.) And I am told that “failure is not an option.”

In our Actor work, we’re reminded constantly that we need to breathe and to listen to our bodies. We’re taught to support each other as a team. And we’re told that failure is to be embraced.

Okay, wha…?

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not considered the stereotypical “old school” teacher by anyone. I remember one student who went on a two-page rant in his class journal about my teaching a few years ago, “Why do you expect us to change everything we have learned in 12 years just for one class?” I responded that I was trying to prepare him for success in college and career in the best way as I see it. (And seeing as how it was his best and longest written piece in the two years I had him, I thought maybe I needed to get him and others angry more often.)

But it’s easy to have the answers when you’re in the driver’s seat.

In my work with Saratoga Shakespeare, I’m the passenger sitting in the way back of the station wagon without a seatbelt. Everyone else is facing forward with varying levels of expertise, while I bounce along with little knowledge of where we are or where we’re heading. And while that is disconcerting to an adult, I was totally okay with it as a kid.

And so I must be here as well. After all, I wanted this opportunity so I could myself in the place of a student. To learn something completely new, having had little to no experience in acting. And the Student me loves the not-knowing.

The danger, I fear, is that I move too far away from the Teacher, or, as Shakespeare put it, “what’s done cannot be undone.” That our exercises in destructuring and restructuring (see Day 3 post entitled “That Sits Not Well With Me”) will not result in creating a new switch that I can use for the different roles of Teacher and Actor, but rather I will remain conflicted and less effective in both. As I work through the Conflict created by each new exercise, I can feel the movement toward a new Me. I can see how my old thoughts are comparing themselves with the new thoughts and changing many of my perspectives. That’s something that will not go away.

How can I approach my normal job in the same way after this experience? How will it be accepted by students? By administrators? By the community? I feel the modern-day teacher is being shoe-horned into a common mold that strips away the excesses of individual interests or talents in favor of conformity. And admitting mistakes, while laudable in many situations, is not so much so when you are a teacher under evaluation for your level of effectiveness. And how can you celebrate failure in a culture where, as I said, “failure is not an option.” (For the record, I disagree with that premise wholeheartedly; it’s always an option.)

This puts me in mind of one of my favorite characters and scenes from Macb… er, the Scottish play. Paraphrasing the Porter, I would say of my experience so far:
              
     “[Acting class], sir, it provokes and unprovokes;….
it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it
takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes
him stand to, and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates
him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.”

Hmm. Think I’ll have to sleep on this. (If this conflicted state has not murdered sleep.)


You can see the full blog of my experiences this summer on the Saratoga Shakespeare Company website at www.saratogashakespeare.com and on my own Out of the Centrifuge blog at www.outofthecentrifuge.blogspot.com.



Thursday, July 14, 2016

This Sits Not Well With Me


“I'll prove mine honour and mine honesty
Against thee presently, if thou darest stand.” – Comedy of Errors (5.1. 1453-1455)


Day 3                                                             (7-7-2016)

We’ve done many great – if frustrating – exercises that work on movement, breathing, and team-building in our intern ensemble. And many that require working together and thinking quickly.

One of the most memorable ones was with three balls. In this exercise, we got in a circle and tossed Ball 1 stating as the ball traveled to another person in the circle our Name with a positive adjective with the same beginning letter or sound as our name, along with our Hometown and Hobby. Meanwhile, we were kicking Ball 2 stating the name of our first crush as it went to the person next to us, and bouncing Ball 3 with the name of our favorite fruit to another person. At times, one person had to manage all three balls at once.

Less memorable were the lines that I had to bring in today.

On Day 1, Tim and Doug asked me if I knew any verse from any of Will’s plays because I was going to need it. I searched my memory but came up mostly with one-liners mostly like “To be or not to be, that is the question” and “Out, out damn spot” or “Luke, I am your father” (okay, so that last one’s not right, but the relationship seems Shakespearean, no?).

I finally settled on Iago’s soliloquy when he reveals his villainous “double knavery” plot against Othello and Cassio. It was the only one I remembered for more than a couple of lines. (Actually I remembered 5.) Our homework was to memorize 12-14 lines of verse. I knew I had some work ahead of me. I spent a couple hours at my kitchen table committing each line to memory. I practiced it over and over in the car today on the 75-minute ride to Skidmore.

When I got there, Doug made us recite one line at a time while walking across the room, then taking a deep breath and turning 90 degrees before walking the next line. And I thought the 3 Ball Exercise was difficult. If I had been chewing gum while I was walking, breathing, turning and reciting, I might not have been able to remember any of the lines this time.

“When you practice your lines, don’t do them sitting down. That’s not the way you’re going to perform them,” Doug advised. Great. Now you tell me.

But I have to let that go. One of my goals is to live the lines, not just memorize them. And today’s theme is Release.

We begin in a different studio with mats on the floor. After stretching, we partner up and have to give each other a massage. My partner is Tommy. We’re encouraged to make sounds to let our partner know that we appreciate this. Feels a bit weird, but it works on communicating with your partner, works on breathing instead of holding your breath, and it adds to the release.

We then work with something called the Fitzmaurice Technique. This is a vocal technique developed by Catherine Fitzmaurice that deals with destructuring and restructuring. A couple of the interns had done some work with this technique before. It was completely new to me, and I had looked forward to learning more about voice because that is the least developed tool in my teaching arsenal.

Tim gave us a copy of an American Theatre article explaining the technique. I was surprised to find more prizes for the Teacher Me in the article. “It is primarily about getting rid of what’s familiar, what is habitual, what makes logical sense, what other people are asking you to do. And the restructuring is putting things back together from a more aware place, coming back to a very strong sense of focus, intention, functionality and structure in the work – but in a way that is simple, healthy and effective, while remaining organic.” I love that. It’s exactly what I do with my students with the Index Card Test (see previous post entitled All’s Well That Begins Well).

Fortunately, we didn’t have to do anything more with our lines today. (That’s the Student Me talking there, if you couldn’t tell). That work will begin tomorrow. Breathe.

You can see the full blog of my experiences this summer on the Saratoga Shakespeare Company website at www.saratogashakespeare.com and on my own Out of the Centrifuge blog at www.outofthecentrifuge.blogspot.com.



Wednesday, July 13, 2016

I Did Not Say Macb ...

Blackadder: Oh, incidentally, Baldrick - actors are very superstitious. On no account mention the word ‘Macbeth’ this evening, alright?
Baldrick: Why not?
Blackadder: It brings them bad luck and it makes them very unhappy.
Baldrick: Oh, so you won't be mentioning it either?
Blackadder: No... well, not very often.

Blackadder BBC TV show, Season 3, Episode 4 (1987)


Day 2                                                              (7-6-16)

Had two days off. Monday was just a warmup for the interns and then a full day of work on the company’s first summer production, Cyrano, which I’m not part of. Tuesday was move-in day for setting up the stage in Congress Park. I wasn’t required to be there either, and it’s a good thing.

You know how you wish an actor luck by saying, “Break a leg”? I guess I’m too literal. Actually, I didn’t break my leg, but just sprained a knee. I don’t know if that means I’m too committed to this project. Or maybe not committed enough.

And I never even said the name of the play that I’ve taught the past several years, Macb… er, the Scottish play. Okay, perhaps once or twice. It might be different saying the name of the play in the classroom, but ask any actor and they’ll warn you not to say it in the theater. I’ll try to heed their warning from now on. (Ouch.)

When the cast saw me walk in on crutches today, they of course wondered what happened. They didn’t know it occurred about 10 minutes into our warmup exercises on Day 1. (For the record, a spinning kick is not something I will do again as a warmup without 15 minutes first of pre-warmup.) I hobbled noticeably the remainder of that first session (making me feel really old, even if I am more than twice the age of most of the cast) but I didn’t notice a problem until I had trouble sleeping and getting up to walk in the morning. An UrgentCare visit on the Fourth of July yielded the crutches and an orthopedic visit the next day yielded the diagnosis (medial collateral ligament sprain), some therapeutic exercises and warnings to avoid jumping and side-to-side movement. In other words, avoid most of the physical activity we do to work on movement.

Fortunately, our instructors advised me to modify the movements and avoid anything I didn’t think I could do.

Speaking of which, I had a sudden realization (re: panic attack) that I have never read the play that we are performing. I’ve read a number of the Bard’s plays, and taught a few of the standards – Romeo and Juliet, Julius Caesar, Taming of the Shrew, Othello and of course the Scottish Play – but never the one that I will be performing, Much Ado About Nothing.

Hello, old friend Riverside Shakespeare (look for it on any English teacher’s desk or bookshelf). Time to crack your spine once again.


You can see the full blog of my experiences this summer on the Saratoga Shakespeare Company website at www.saratogashakespeare.com and on my own Out of the Centrifuge blog at www.outofthecentrifuge.blogspot.com.


Tuesday, July 12, 2016

All's Well That Begins Well

"Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you
taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable;
and much fool may you find in you, even to the
world's pleasure and the increase of laughter.”
– All’s Well That Ends Well (2.4. 1236-1239)


Day One                                                            (7-3-16)

Zounds! What have I gotten myself into?

I find myself in a studio on the second floor of the Bernhard Theater building at Skidmore College and introduced to 13 very talented interns and three great instructors. Who’s got the least experience in the room? Who do you think? I bet I can’t even beat the tables and chairs in that department. (Although I may have a chance against the thermostat.) The credits of this ensemble cast ranges from Shakespearean standards to Neil Simon, Cabaret, and even a Yiddish version of Death of a Salesman.

“Anxiety” is the theme of the day for me. It’s been many years since I’ve been the new kid, the stranger in a strange land. And as a teacher, it’s very discomfiting finding myself as the one in the room who knows the least about the subject matter. I don’t even know how to breathe correctly. (For the record, actors breathe in through the mouth, not the nose.)

Perhaps this is some karmic payback for all the years that I have confounded my own students with the Index Card Test. In this exercise, which I perform on the first day with a new class, I hand each student as they come in an index card with the lined side down. I then have them write on it the standard information that every teacher seeks on the first day: name, contact information, parents, favorite word, etc. (This past year yielded the word floccinaucinihilipilification, which was a new one on me, but I digress.)

After everyone finishes, I ask them how they did. They usually feel confident, but some start to become suspicious. Their forebodings are confirmed when I tell them that the “test” is not about the accuracy of the information provided, but rather which side of the index card they wrote on.

At this point, heads dart back and forth checking each other’s cards to see if they did it “right.” By right, I of course mean if they did it like everyone else. Psychologists have proven that people will go along with a group giving the wrong answer even when they know better. The majority always write on the lined side, and at least a few will smack their head when I point out that I handed them out with the blank side up.

There is no right or wrong in the Index Card Test. The exercise is designed to make students reflect on why they wrote on the side that they did. When asked, many say it’s because that’s what they were taught to do. And that’s my point. We can’t really learn, or create, or evolve as an individual or as a society if we just follow what everyone else says or does.

With this in mind, I find some comfort in beginning as the Beginner in this accomplished SSC group. After all, the Zen philosophy of the Beginner’s Mind says that one should approach every situation as if for the first time, regardless of their level of expertise, because for the beginner there are many opportunities but for the expert there are few.

Our instructors, Tim and Doug, keep telling is that there is no right or wrong way of doing things here, there’s just your individual way. Sounds very familiar.

Okay, so let the show begin…

You can see the full blog of my experiences this summer on the Saratoga Shakespeare Company website at www.saratogashakespeare.com and on my own Out of the Centrifuge blog at www.outofthecentrifuge.blogspot.com.


Saturday, July 9, 2016

A Mid-Life Summer's Dream

“I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream.”
--A Midsummer Night’s Dream, 4.1.204-205
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When I decided on a career switch from newspaper reporting to a teaching many years ago, I knew I needed to shift my professional perspective. How would I change the semi-anonymous introvert behind the notepad into a “sage on the stage”?

So as I waited to begin my college studies to become a teacher, I figured the best course of action was to work as a guide on a haunted hayride and to study clowning. I could think of no better training for controlling an unpredictable group and developing a fearlessness about making mistakes.

Now I’m 17 years into my teaching career. I’ve taught several different high school English courses, earned national certification, even taught a graduate college class. Yet still I find the need for new challenges to keep energizing myself and my teaching, and to refine my focus and perspective. This year may be my greatest challenge yet, as I work as an intern for the Saratoga Shakespeare Company.

This opportunity began last summer. After watching SSC’s latest offering, Love’s Labour’s Lost, I thought how great it would be to join them on stage. It’s always been somewhat of a dream of mine to be an actor, although I have no real experience. (Unless you count a junior high production of Donald Payton’s The Boarding House Reach. I played the protagonist’s father, Mr. Maxwell.) I approached SSC directors Barbara and Lary Opitz and Tim Dugan after the show about the possibility of them taking on a teacher intern. Already they train a number of college students each year in the on-stage and behind-the-scenes workings of a professional Shakespearean production. Why not do the same for a local teacher? Someone who teaches Shakespeare, but doesn’t specifically teach or work in theater? Someone like me. (Okay, actually me.) What could be more natural than putting a teacher on a stage? Already, I “perform” in front of 125 students a day. I do about five 50-minute sets of “standup” (as in I rarely get a chance to sit) each day, five days a week, 40 weeks a year. 

And they said yes!

It was only then, with my dream about to become reality, that I realized (gulp!) that the thought of being on stage outside the classroom makes me as anxious as a bookworm asking the head cheerleader to the prom. (Something else I never did. Although I did play a good bookworm in high school.) But it is this very anxiety that shows me I must do this. I tell my students all the time to dream big and to work to fulfill their dreams. Now, after reaching my half-century mark, I figure it’s high time to practice what I teach.

And so, for five weeks this summer I will be a teacher intern in the Saratoga Shakespeare Company. What does that mean? That means that I will be training daily with an ensemble of 13 college interns to learn the ropes of staging and performing a Shakespearean production. That means I will be taking the same classes learning about voice, movement, and other components of the theater. And that means that I will take part in one of these Shakespearean productions. (Breathe.) Our intern show will be a traveling production of the comedy Much Ado About Nothing. The intern production lands in Congress Park on Aug. 6 at 2 p.m.

Despite the anxiety, I am ecstatic about this opportunity that SSC is giving me. “I have had a dream,” as Bottom put it, and now thanks to SSC I get to live it.

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Check out the Saratoga Shakespeare Company website at www.SaratogaShakespeare.com and like it out on Facebook.