Present: Dale, Marc, John, Jeff A., Jeff B., Kevin, Greg, Dan, Scott
We began running Act I in Dale’s back yard. We made it through scene 1 one and a half times before decamping to NCTC’s lobby, courtesy of Jeff A. Dale never thought that the sun set at 7:30 when he offered his back yard. (Saturdays will be fine, since it’s daylight.)
We worked on getting more crowd-ness into the scene.
I.2 and I.3 moved very smoothly, very short and well-played.
We ran I.4 a couple of times, finally agreeing that we would work the Battle Ballet next Wednesday when everyone could be there. We will devote the time to learning it and making it work. We ran a facsimile with Dan and Dale fluffing their way through it while Jeff gave his speeches front and center, shifting to the defeated Romans when he could. Marc watched it from out front and says it works.
I.5, short and sweet, and then we decided to cut 1.6 and 1.7, heading straight into the Grudge Match in 1.8. Again, we have to (have to!) get the fight choreographed. Dale will work on this over the weekend.
1.9 is very stodgy, but will probably prove more interesting after everyone starts to learn lines.
1.10, short and sweet.
NEXT: We will meet on Saturday at the park, 10:00, to work through Act II.
ATTENTION: WE NEED DRUMS!
I was reminded last night how much the presence of drums was a part of our original “ceremonial” conception of the production. Everyone contact people. If could have someone by our battle rehearsal next Wednesday, it would make us feel more energized and fluid.
This has helped me with line learning (and with actor-type things, too: interpretation, subtext, etc.):
After reading through a speech a few times out loud and trying to hammer out the actual sense within the often tortured syntax and play of images in the lines (both verse and prose), I work with manageable chunks of phrases or sentences that are short enough to hold in my memory as I repeat them over and over. I do a good bit of mind-numbing repetition of these bits not only to get them in my “muscle memory” and my cognitive memory (knowing I will forget them and have to do another session several hours later–takes a couple of days for a speech finally to start to stick), but also–and this is the main thing I’m trying to share–I start to experience the lines as I repeat them in very material terms as bits of abstract music that have a certain feeling in my mouth and a particular sonic life in my ear. I try different approaches, of course, as I repeat the words, producing varying sound “gestures” as I go.
Not only does this help with memorization (the value of just doing the same damn thing over and over)but these little musical gestures (not of the do, re, me sort; you can be tone deaf and still carve “sonic sculptures”) feed me ideas about how to perform through the words, how to become the meaning(s) of the words, how to splash about within the words and have a good time. If I do something with a phrase and get a charge out of it, I’m presumptuous enough to think the audience might also. And that appetite I want to feed. Much Shakespeare falls down because the actors don’t work toward giving the audience that kind of (somewhat right-brained) experience and, instead, assume it’s all about characters talking just as we would in ordinary life. Sadly, these earnest actors get frustrated over those bothersome chunks of text that they see as complicating communication, not super-charging it.
I also get some emotional ideas as I do this. I can try to move into varied emotional terrain with these sound gestures. Every now and then and interesting idea will pop into my head about how to try a scene by using this method. And sometimes an emotional key will present itself with it.
Hope this helps. Dale has a new book he’s very excited about, so talk to him. Whatever works. Words, words, words.
Hm. Memorizing lines. Yes, lots and lots of repetition, but also, as Thinking Shakespeare points out, you have to ask yourself at the end of each “chunk,” and…? The character has expressed a thought, and… what’s his next thought?
Also, I find that the balanced phrases, the antitheses in nearly every speech, help. A and B, C not D, etc., etc.
Alliteration? Hammer it: “provide more piercing statutes daily.”
Hard to say? Then slow down. You can hear me and Marc do that a lot. We’re not “acting,” we’re allowing the language to have its weight.
Thinking Shakespeare is a big proponent of paraphrasing in order to assimilate the thoughts of the character. Good idea; it’s always a good thing to understand what you’re saying. (Right, Lamar?)
Also, look for the structure of the character’s argument. First “this,” also “this,” and finally “this.”
I like Marc’s comment about getting frustrated over the language because you think it gets in the way, rather than allowing your character to express his thoughts in ways that you and I never could. Shakespeare’s language is your friend, not a stumbling block. Trust it.
Well, yeah, thought is key, goes without saying in my little contribution. Didn’t mean to appear to discount it. Though even sometimes Shakespeare’s characters are no rigorously rational in getting from point A to B. Sometimes they just vibrate a series of images. Sometimes.