Another missive from Herr Dietz, to hold onto
Never forget the words that you generated when I asked you why this odd little play might work, why an audience of people might watch it. You spoke of “anticipation, investment, clarity, follow-thru on an action, empathy, recognition of a clear challenge or goal, a sense of inevitability, closure.”
In that list of words you have your art form.
CLARITY. Let me say one more thing about this. Clarity is this art form’s only true risk. Muddled or grey choices are cowardice. Pure and simple. And the cowardice of sloppy, “it means what you want it to mean” theatre — foisted on the public as “new” or “experimental” is gutless in the extreme. Make a clear choice. In “Viewpoints”, a decision is noted to be akin to an act of violence. This is right. Risk a decision (what a character wants, what actually happens to someone, how you want the work to affect others) — a clear one. And follow through on it.
AMBIGUITY. Isn’t great art often ambiguous? Of course it is. So where does that leave “clarity.” Here’s where: Ambiguity is not the ABSENCE of choice; it is not a state of CONFUSION. Ambiguity is the COLLISION OF TWO (or more) CHOICES. Hamlet is not saying: “I’m not sure what to do.” He is saying: “I must act.” AND “I cannot act.” Two clear choices in conflict. If you want your audience left with a level of uncertainty or unease or ambiguity, I support you, however: you must work TWICE as hard, not half as hard. You must sell them, fully, TWO (or more) CLEAR, POWERFUL, RESONANT, UNFORGETTABLE CHOICES — not just one.
Is this hard? Of course it is. Let’s keep working.
Friday, November 30, 2007
MORE MONDAY NIGHT LABS
SPLIT FOCUS LAB
If you have two very different threads in your play, two different timeframes or stories or what have you, pull them apart. Have actors read one thread on one side of the room, and actors read the other thread on the other side of the room. Let people gravitate toward whichever side is holding their interest.
If you have two very different threads in your play, two different timeframes or stories or what have you, pull them apart. Have actors read one thread on one side of the room, and actors read the other thread on the other side of the room. Let people gravitate toward whichever side is holding their interest.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
THE MONDAY NIGHT LABS
What follows are various exercises we have done in Suzan Zeder's Monday Night Labs, to help us interrogate or build our scripts
FRANCES'S CAMP LAB
Five characters, a little information given on each. Participants are asked to create two collages...one for their character's exterior world, one for interior. AKA, "to the world, I am..." and "to me, I am..."
Each participant is asked to write down the character's hopes and fears about their encounter with the other characters.
Each participant has to write an introduction from his or her character to the group, answering certain questions that tie into the play's context.
Each participant is asked to do some journal writing from the perspective of his or her character.
ERIN'S MAPPING LAB
Participants read the play, or what they have of it.
Participants are given crayons and a large piece of paper. All participants are asked to draw the most resonant images from the script. Participants are then asked to add on to each others' drawings.
Particants are asked to draw lines or roads or what have you connecting the different images to each other, according to a logic that makes sense to the group.
LETTERS
Participants are asked to write letters from one character to another, or to an outside character.
PRISCILLA'S BODY LAB
Groups are given small pieces of the same text, and asked to direct each other. Groups share those pieces. The groups may play with gender dynamic, age, number of characters who speak the text, blocking, etc.
More on this later
FRANCES'S CAMP LAB
Five characters, a little information given on each. Participants are asked to create two collages...one for their character's exterior world, one for interior. AKA, "to the world, I am..." and "to me, I am..."
Each participant is asked to write down the character's hopes and fears about their encounter with the other characters.
Each participant has to write an introduction from his or her character to the group, answering certain questions that tie into the play's context.
Each participant is asked to do some journal writing from the perspective of his or her character.
ERIN'S MAPPING LAB
Participants read the play, or what they have of it.
Participants are given crayons and a large piece of paper. All participants are asked to draw the most resonant images from the script. Participants are then asked to add on to each others' drawings.
Particants are asked to draw lines or roads or what have you connecting the different images to each other, according to a logic that makes sense to the group.
LETTERS
Participants are asked to write letters from one character to another, or to an outside character.
PRISCILLA'S BODY LAB
Groups are given small pieces of the same text, and asked to direct each other. Groups share those pieces. The groups may play with gender dynamic, age, number of characters who speak the text, blocking, etc.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
On Small Moments
Or: Why I love studying with Steven Dietz
The following is an exerpt from a message to our class from Steven Dietz:
GOAL:
We are seeking to transcend the “actual” and find the “theatrical”. This does not mean false or fake or even non-realistic. It means that each contribution (Space, Action, Language) requires the “Theatrical Gesture” -- the quality of REFINEMENT and RESONANCE which captures an “essence”; which literally forces us to watch. This is hard. This is necessary. This is why we train.
People don’t – in the real world - actually live in Tom Lynch’s sets, or walk around surrounded by Peter Maradudin’s lights, or talk like characters in an Adam Rapp or Suzan Lori-Parks play. These artists bring the “Theatrical Gesture” to each moment, each image, each sentence. With audacity and specificity they transcend the ordinary; push us beyond our daily lives. And when a series of “small moments” are fashioned into a living narrative presented in a defined space (or spaces) in real-time: we call that a play. And so, in making Small Moments ...
STRATEGY:
Work SMALL. Work with an aggressive, even obsessive PRECISION. Make ONE SINGULAR MOMENT: one Space, one Action, one shard of Language. Do LESS — but do it FULLY.
You are not making “scenes” - you are not making “stories” - if you attempt to do so, with this exercise, you’ll more than likely end up with “skits”. The world has enough skits.
The great challenge to us all is that the Mundane and the Actual are very insidious. They will sneak into your art and take your work hostage. They will threaten to turn “Space / Action / Language” into ... “Furniture / Behavior / Conversation”. The world has enough furniture and behavior and conversation. Be on guard. Wield your theatrical sense of audacity and specificity. Remember the van Gogh quote: “Exaggerate the essential; leave the obvious vague.”
For example: if you decide that your Space is an “apartment” and your Action is “sewing” and your Language is “It’s so late. I wonder when Amy will finally get home?” ... your small moment is probably going to be general and literal and lacking the Theatrical Gesture.
If, instead, your Space is “a small weathered footstool” and your Action is “threading a tiny needle” and your Language is “The year is done, Amy. Come home.” ... you are on the way towards something which has a little more resonance, prompts questions, “opens out” instead of “folding in” and answering itself. Is it a scene? - a play? - a story? - no: it’s just a moment that requires us to watch.
Furthermore: general choices beget more general choices. Each collaborator who makes a “soft” or “literal” choice inevitably locks his/her fellow collaborators into a series of soft, literal, general choices. The Actual and the Ordinary are like weeds -- they will overtake the Theatrical instantly, every single time, if you give them a chance. Fight this. Help each other.
The following is an exerpt from a message to our class from Steven Dietz:
GOAL:
We are seeking to transcend the “actual” and find the “theatrical”. This does not mean false or fake or even non-realistic. It means that each contribution (Space, Action, Language) requires the “Theatrical Gesture” -- the quality of REFINEMENT and RESONANCE which captures an “essence”; which literally forces us to watch. This is hard. This is necessary. This is why we train.
People don’t – in the real world - actually live in Tom Lynch’s sets, or walk around surrounded by Peter Maradudin’s lights, or talk like characters in an Adam Rapp or Suzan Lori-Parks play. These artists bring the “Theatrical Gesture” to each moment, each image, each sentence. With audacity and specificity they transcend the ordinary; push us beyond our daily lives. And when a series of “small moments” are fashioned into a living narrative presented in a defined space (or spaces) in real-time: we call that a play. And so, in making Small Moments ...
STRATEGY:
Work SMALL. Work with an aggressive, even obsessive PRECISION. Make ONE SINGULAR MOMENT: one Space, one Action, one shard of Language. Do LESS — but do it FULLY.
You are not making “scenes” - you are not making “stories” - if you attempt to do so, with this exercise, you’ll more than likely end up with “skits”. The world has enough skits.
The great challenge to us all is that the Mundane and the Actual are very insidious. They will sneak into your art and take your work hostage. They will threaten to turn “Space / Action / Language” into ... “Furniture / Behavior / Conversation”. The world has enough furniture and behavior and conversation. Be on guard. Wield your theatrical sense of audacity and specificity. Remember the van Gogh quote: “Exaggerate the essential; leave the obvious vague.”
For example: if you decide that your Space is an “apartment” and your Action is “sewing” and your Language is “It’s so late. I wonder when Amy will finally get home?” ... your small moment is probably going to be general and literal and lacking the Theatrical Gesture.
If, instead, your Space is “a small weathered footstool” and your Action is “threading a tiny needle” and your Language is “The year is done, Amy. Come home.” ... you are on the way towards something which has a little more resonance, prompts questions, “opens out” instead of “folding in” and answering itself. Is it a scene? - a play? - a story? - no: it’s just a moment that requires us to watch.
Furthermore: general choices beget more general choices. Each collaborator who makes a “soft” or “literal” choice inevitably locks his/her fellow collaborators into a series of soft, literal, general choices. The Actual and the Ordinary are like weeds -- they will overtake the Theatrical instantly, every single time, if you give them a chance. Fight this. Help each other.
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