Good Afternoon.
Goodness me this must be the first time I have started with an afternoon salutation!
I have been somewhat frustrated over the past day as I have managed to delete three posts from this fledgling blog! One was deliberate and the other two - well, not deliberate. So Post 1A, the very first of this blog and the post about presence are gone, disparued! I know a couple of people said they had printed or copied them, if there is any such person out there who does have a copy, I would be grateful! But heyho.
So I thought in the spirit of repetition and practice that I was talking about yesterday, I should go back to the subject of the presence of the actor. It won't be the same blog, because I can only recall bits of the last one, but it will focus on the same subject. To be honest you could write a whole book about it.
There is a curious discipline that comes with losing a piece of writing, whatever the form. Isaac Asimov allegedly lost a 100,000 words of a novel mid-way through. I am not quite sure how he lost them, but I do have an inkling of the despair he felt. Not for these blogs, but for the longer pieces that I have lost from time to time!
You know you can't recapture it and you ponder whether you can ever write with such effortlessness again. How the concepts had just flown.......dah de dah. And then if you're like me you have a little hissy fit and determine not to write it all again! And then, tail between your legs you go back to the computer and start all over.
Right, sorry, just needed to get that out of my system, and indeed procrastinate just a little before attempting to reenter the presence space!
Being in the present moment is possibly the toughest thing to achieve in everyday life. We have so many must-dos, lists, people to phone, visit, birthday parties to organise etc etc; And then the things that happened yesterday, the day before, last month and the consequences of so many things that linger to be finished. And then the future, where to go on holiday, who we are about to meet to plan a new project and so on. How tricky it is to just be here in this precise moment, word by word, breath by breath.
Last time I wrote about those split seconds when things in our lives change forever. 9/11 was my touchstone for this. How on that September morning in 2001 people set about their ordinary and extraordinary days with a certainty that all would be as they imagined it. And then in a moment out of the sunny calm sky a plane flew into one of the Twin Towers. All of New York was changed in that moment for ever. Much of the world.
On a personal level families were broken apart. People stuck in the towers rang their loved ones to say they were ok, and then to say goodbye. Sane individuals felt that they had no other choice but to throw themselves to their deaths out of burning windows. Those were real present moments. It was as if the whole world stopped and we saw it play out in front of our eyes on the TV. We were in that moment unquestionably gripped by the horror of it all. The world shared in something so significant and awful that it shed light on our humanity, on politics, on religion. The private and collective experience that would now be wrought in our DNA for generations to come.
This life changing day would quickly become a reference point for so many other things.
Now using this as an example of presence may seem irreverent in relation to the job of the actor. That is not my intention. The job of the actor is insignificant in relation to such a real and enormous tragedy.
And yet it is through the retelling and the telling again of these human stories that the actor takes her place. There is no way to ease this pain. But there is a human need to feel and reflect and to come together to grieve and maybe to find some solace in the company of others.
This is sometimes a place where theatre has a humble part to play, like religion or extreme sport. A place where people understand that whilst we are all essentially alone, we are all part of each other too.
The job of the actor in telling a story through the drama, is to be entirely present moment by moment with his audience. When this happens its precious, healing and sacred. But its a tall order. It means that the actor must centre herself and be inside the moment for one or two hours. She has to understand that her instrument is a channel for text, narrative, emotion, image and words. Its a big responsibility.
Audiences cannot be expected to be in the moment through an entire performance. As a director, you also know when they leave the room. The atmosphere becomes restless, people cough and the energy dissipates. But usually, if the action is going well, and the actors are present, that moment passes and the auditorium fills with attention again. Its palpable. We just all know it.
When an actor is centred and in the moment a genuine communion takes place, which lifts the whole experience into the realm of the sacred. It can be a a tragedy, a comedy or even a panto. The genre doesn't matter. The story, the characters and relationships matter. The connection and the communion matter.
You know you've got it when the audience leave the theatre with flushed cheeks, eagerly talking and wanting to go to the pub or for dinner to carry on talking. It has the potential to be transformational. But only if the actors have been in authentic and intimate connection with their audience and the audience feel like co-creators of the experience.
Of course the core material, the text, the direction, the set and costumes, the music are vital in creating a meaningful space in which this presence can happen.
So to learn to be present in the moment is a primary skill for every actor how ever young.
Much as the young pianist must practise their scales, so must the actor prepare his body, beginning with centering it. This can be done in many ways. But the clearing of mind and body of all the other stuff they carry with them is essential before they can channel the text, story, characters and relationships that they are charged to bring to life.
Director's Suggested Exercise Of The Day
Centering (10 mins)
Ask the actor to find a space that feels just right for them in the rehearsal room or classroom. Invite them to go with their instinct about where that might be. Be aware of light, temperature, sound. Ask them to settle in that space and to stand with feet eighteen inches apart. Invite them to go inside and to focus on their breathing. Let their breathing deepen, so all they are aware of is this and the gentle movement in their body as the breath rises and falls. Then ask them to take their mind's eye on a journey from their feet to their head, consciously giving their attention to each part of their body as they do so. At the same time ask them to use their breath to maintain that attention and with every breath to release the tensions that are in each part of their body.
Don't rush people, they will each take the time that is right for them. Encourage them with a gentle voice and let them tell you when they have completed the exercise. It usually takes no more than 10 minutes.
At this point the actor is in the moment and ready to move to the next appropriate warm-up exercise needed for the rehearsal or performance.
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