Session Five: Week 18

We decided to stick to our plan of playing games through the new year. I introduced a new game, with the caveat that it might lead to potential triggers, and I asked if that was okay with the group. First off, we decided that if something came up, we’d let each other know. Then one ensemble member said she was okay with triggers because she feels safe in the group again. Many ensemble members vocally agreed with her.

The first game we played was very silly and allowed everyone to have a good laugh during a very tough time of year. Then a few ensemble members said they’d like to try a game that wasn’t necessarily funny. I then led “Real to Ideal,” a Theatre of the Oppressed exercise in which we look at a real situation, then what it would ideally be, and the possible transitions between the two. Our first situation was a hostile workplace in which a tyrannical boss was lording it over co-workers. An ideal version of this showed the co-workers pointing out their good work to the boss, and the boss smiling and encouraging them. We determined that, in order for the situation to change, the workers needed to stand up for themselves and have empathy for the boss, who wants productivity above all. The boss needs to also have empathy for the workers.

We then decided to try this in relation to Othello (since some ensemble members were itching to get back to Shakespeare). They chose Iago’s “put money in thy purse” monologue, in which Roderigo is won over and thoroughly cowed. What would it take to change this dynamic?

“It would take a change in conscious thought,” said one woman. “This guy is just full of crap, and I’m gonna do what I think is right.” This, she reasoned, would decrease Iago’s confidence.

In the play, we wondered, why can’t Roderigo advocate for himself? Some think it’s because he’s naturally a follower, although others lay the blame on his naiveté. By and large, we don’t think he’s stupid. “He wants something, and Iago can get him what he wants,” said one woman. Some called this a “deal with the devil,” and we drew parallels between this and Emilia’s thought that she would cuckold her husband for the world. The play seems to be full of such bargains.

Then the conversation expanded. “Don’t you think that this setting, with NA and AA, makes you more empathetic to these characters?” said one woman. “The prison journey helps you understand people better – you become self aware.”

There was general agreement. “I’ve been the manipulator and the manipulated. When I was the manipulator, I never thought people were stupid – I just thought I was really good,” said one ensemble member. “This is why I wanted to do Othello,” said a member who was in the group last year, “So people can learn from its messages.”

“Do you guys ever feel bad when you admit you were the bad points of these characters?” said another woman.

“Absolutely,” replied a longtime ensemble member. “I feel so close to Roderigo because he’s ruled by his heart. I’ve been that person, and it’s sad.”

“It makes me aware of how I used to behave, how I behave now, and how I’m gonna be in the future,” said the woman who had posed the question.

“Iago is a sick person,” said another woman. “Maybe he’ll go on a journey of self discovery in prison.”

Another woman had doubts. “This kind of sickness is like TB – you can go get better, but it can hide out and come back, like addiction.”

This led us to wonder about what happens after the play’s end. “You could do a whole play on Iago in prison,” said one woman excitedly. “If Iago went to prison, he’d never change because he’d be like everyone there,” said another.

Our plan for next week is to make the first round of cuts to the play. Some people are eager to do this, and others are nervous. This usually starts out awkwardly and quickly becomes a lot of fun, so I’m looking forward to it. It will be good to get back to work on the play!

Session Five: Week 17

Before we got going tonight, a couple of people spoke with me privately about their feelings after casting the play last week. Some of their feelings were echoed later in the circle by other ensemble members – that the way people made their decisions led to perceived unfairness, and that we need to take a hard look at our casting process to refine it moving forward. I suggested that we process this for awhile and see what solutions we come up with for our year-end wrap up – the rawness that some are feeling now would likely cloud our judgment and lead to conflict.

Before we gathered in a circle, the ensemble member who turned in her book last week appeared in the doorway of the auditorium and beckoned me over. “I’ve been feeling really, really bad,” she said. “I’ve been crying and sad ever since I quit.” She said that she’d called several of her friends and family on the outside to talk it out, and all of them suggested to her that she come back. A former group member who was released earlier this year was particularly strong worded with her, reminding her of another member’s history of not getting the part she wanted three years in a row, and staying with the group nonetheless. This ensemble member hadn’t realized that, and it made her think. “Really, what it is, is I’m a spoiled brat,” she said, smiling a little. She’s decided to stay with the group, believing that this new perspective of not getting exactly what she wanted will teach her something important and give her an opportunity to grow. “Shakespeare has been such an important part of my recovery,” she said. “I don’t think you even understand how much.”

I’m ecstatic that she’s back, and I’m particularly thrilled by her reasoning for returning. Since she joined the group four years ago, this woman has come a long way in terms of her communication and conflict resolution skills, and her openness to others’ feelings and ideas. Although I know she’s learned a lot already, her strength in coming back humbly and open to not having a named role (at least for now) is just worlds away from where she was in the beginning. She shared all of this with the group as well, and everyone seemed happy to welcome her back.

What with some group members feeling burned by casting, and the holiday season being incredibly hard on everyone, we decided to take a break from Othello and play games through the new year. This proved to be a great distraction and a movement toward bonding everyone together again. We laughed a lot, getting better and better at working together in the moment – which is precisely why we spend time learning to improvise. “My head hurts from laughing,” said one woman (Jessica). That’s a rare thing this time of year.

All in all, we seem to be on the road toward having a cohesive ensemble again. Those who, thus far, don’t have much stage time will take a heavy hand in directing, knowing that we generally lose 2-3 people before the performance and they are likely to have an opportunity to step into a named role down the line. 

Session Five: Week 16

Tuesday

Tonight we finished out the play, tagging in and out as we went. While the ensemble members continued to be generous with each other for the most part, offering to take turns in many of the roles, a bit of a good-natured battle ensued between the women who want to play Emilia. They tagged in and out frequently but with humor, which was great because we got to see so many people reading the role.

The energy of the scenes was not lost as we moved through them, even with brief hiccups as people stumbled over unfamiliar lines (and the ensemble encouraged them to keep going and not apologize). One woman who was playing Desdemona in the final scene said, “When Emilia sings the willow song, it made me so sad. I wanted to cry even though I was dead.”

We then handed out our anonymous casting ballots, and each person found his or her own space in the room to vote. Ballots were folded in half, turned in to the facilitators, and tucked away in my folder. We chatted a bit as we waited for the last votes to come in, mentioning how important it is in an ensemble like ours to maintain composure – whether feeling happy or disappointed – when the cast is announced, so as not to hurt one another’s feelings.

A few people were absent, so we won’t have a final vote until Friday. The jury is still out on how we move on after that. We’ll decide that when we get there.

Friday

Tonight began by collecting the last of the votes, and the group played a new improv game while I tallied them up. I asked whether they would like me to post the cast list or announce it, and they chose for me to announce it. I reminded everyone to try to think “ensemble first,” and to try to keep a “poker face” with their reaction if possible to avoid hurting one another. They did both of these things very well, though some people were obviously (and understandably) disappointed with how things turned out. I reminded those people that we need to always think of our casting as fluid – it is likely that those who have “smaller” parts now will need to step into “larger” roles if we lose people prior to our performances.

It was difficult to move on from this – people obviously felt awkward and needed to decompress. We played improv games the rest of the night, getting back to a place of ease and comfort with one another. We’ll get back to Othello next week.

Things seemed to have gone pretty well, but one longtime ensemble member pulled me aside as everyone was leaving and turned in her book. She said that she was extremely disappointed in not having been voted into a larger part, given she’s been in the group for four years, and she feels that overall her attitude is not ensemble-first, and that may be detrimental to the group. I made sure she knew what a valued member of the group she’s been, and told her that she’s welcome to return at another time if she wants to. It is sad to see her go, but she’s made remarkable progress since I first met her, so at least we were able to say goodbye knowing she’s gotten what she needed from the group. 

Session Five: Week 15

Tuesday

We began tonight with a discussion about which parts everyone is interested in playing, as well as a conversation about how we are going to do our casting. We have talked about doing more formal auditions than we have in the past, as there was some conflict last year when we had an open discussion and “blind” vote.

There were varying opinions on the matter. A longtime ensemble member said, “I don’t like the idea of an audition because a lot of people don’t have time to prepare and give it their all. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.” Of course then several of us reminded her that the way we did this last year does need adjusting. “I’d like to audition because I’ve never done it, and then we’ll really feel like we’ve earned our spots,” said one woman. “What if the audition is optional, and if you don’t want to, you can just talk about why you want the part?” suggested another. “We’ve seen so much of each other – we know each other so well at this point. It would be quicker not to do it,” said another woman.

We kept going round and round, and it was clear that there was not going to be group consensus one way or the other, so we started suggesting compromises. The one we decided to roll with is to move through the entire play, utilizing our “freeze” style of exploring, and having only people actually interested in a given role tag in and out for it. That way, we can think about casting while not putting unwelcome pressure and stress on the people who don’t want a formal audition. It may not be perfect, but that’s what we settled on. We believe we can get through the entire play by the end of next Tuesday, at which point everyone will vote anonymously in writing. Anyone who is absent Tuesday will be able to vote Friday, and we’ll have our cast after that.

After we had gone through Act I, we had time to chat. One woman who had had an especially bad day but showed up anyway, said,“I feel so much better. I’ve been trying not to feel like Iago, and I feel so much better now.”

Someone mentioned how exciting it was to see a woman who hasn’t gotten up much volunteer frequently. “You said show what you’ve got,” she said, “So I’m showing it, ‘cause I really want a part. I signed up for a lot – somebody’s not gonna want something and it’s gonna come right to me!”

Before we left, I asked the group how everyone was feeling. “It’s amazing,” said one woman. “Even though we’ve read it so much and keep doing the same thing over and over, it just keeps getting better.”

Friday

We spent the entire time tonight moving through the middle of the play, “freeze” style. We made great headway and got to see some wonderful work from a lot of people. People are being very generous with one another, offering each other chances to get up and explore rather than monopolizing a given part.

The give and take is great, and so is the passion and energy that each volunteer is bringing when she reads. One woman who has been fairly quiet but signed up as being interested in a number of “major” roles volunteered frequently, which is quite exciting.

The group is getting antsy to make cuts so we know the script we’re actually working with, but we are waiting till after casting to do this, as people may have lines they are very attached to, and we don’t want to cut things only to add them back in later.

Session Five: Week 14

Tuesday

Today before we began, the woman who was so upset that she left last week came in to talk with me one on one. I told her that if she chose to quit, that was her right, but I wanted her to have context for what she was told last week. When she had heard the full story, her concern changed to what the rest of the group must think of her now – how they reacted to her leaving. I reassured her that we all understood why she got so upset, and that everyone’s desire is for her to stay in the group. Although she had to leave early this particular night, she decided to stick with Shakespeare longterm.

We checked in, and the group expressed a need to play some ensemble-strengthening games. I chose three Theatre of the Oppressed exercises, which not only gave us a chance to loosen up and laugh, but were relatable in the context of our group, Othello, and our lives in general.

We sat down in a circle to play Freeze with a scene. Before doing this, one ensemble member asked if everyone could share the roles in which they are interested. This led us to talk about casting, which we decided to delay one week since we got derailed for several sessions. It’s possible that we will be able to return to our group discussion model of casting (with an anonymous written vote) rather than the more formal process we had discussed. It will depend on how well we can re-establish our safe space this week and next.

We then played around with Act III Scene III, in which Iago and Roderigo cause Cassio to fight while drunk and lose his job. While we find some humor in it, it definitely takes a darker turn than some of the ensemble members initially thought – and this is why it’s important for us to put scenes on their feet rather than simply reading them.

“This is where everything begins – where it all begins to form,” said one woman. “You really get to see Iago in action – how he tricks people, how easy they are to fool. And you see Othello before his breakdown.”

Kyle said, “It makes me realize how little actually happens except for this scene and the last – it’s mostly just ‘what ifs.’”

We had mostly been talking about Iago when I asked what everyone thinks about Cassio in this scene. “Ruined,” one woman stated immediately. “For the rest of the play, too. He never really comes back from this.”

“He goes against his better judgment… And I wonder how much he thinks about that,” said another.

“He has dignity in his falling – he handles it well throughout the rest of the play. He takes responsibility for his actions,” said another. We briefly talked about how this is all well and good, but it doesn’t accomplish anything until Othello, Desdemona, Emilia, Iago, and Roderigo are all dead, leaving a vacuum into which Cassio is thrust as the new person in charge.

We then disbanded for the evening, and I pulled aside the woman who had made the comment last week that caused so much upset. We talked for several minutes and determined that this group is not the right fit for her right now, so she won’t be coming back this session. She knows that the door is open to her in the future if she changes her mind. At the end of the day, this program isn’t for everyone, and, while I’m sad to see her go, we have to keep the ensemble at the forefront. Maybe we’ll see her again next year.

Friday

Tonight after checking in, one of the ensemble members taught and led a circle game that she learned in another group. It was a lot of fun, and it was great to see her take charge and lead like that. This is someone who came into the group with a feeling that she should keep her mouth shut and stay in the back, not volunteering to do much. There has been a shift for her – while she has her quiet days, she is often outspoken, encouraging of others, and takes the lead now and then.

We then sat in a circle and decided to work Act IV Scene III without “freezing it” – it’s a fairly short and emotional scene, and we wanted people to have a chance to move all the way through it.

The first woman to read Desdemona felt uncomfortable using her own voice, but we encouraged her to do so anyway. The scene worked pretty well for us, but the women reading felt like they didn’t go far enough with it.

The second pair to read had a very quiet interpretation. The woman reading Emilia said she felt “bad” – like she wasn’t focusing on the right things. We reassured her that this is a completely normal “actor feeling,” and we encouraged her to read more in the future. She also said that she fed off the woman playing Desdemona – “I was in tune with her,” she said.

We talked a bit about Emilia. “Maybe she gets that strong personality from being beaten down by Iago,” said one woman. “Maybe she’s learned from experience.” Another said, “She isn’t nice. She’s outspoken and strong.”

Another woman asked if we could do the scene “with more emotion.” The rest of the group playfully challenged her to show us what she meant, and she obliged. She and her scene partner played nearly the entire show at a heightened level, which worked in some ways and not in others. Interestingly, the woman playing Emilia said she felt heartless, and that’s not what we got from her.

Then another pair read, in a very different way. This Desdemona went on a roller coaster of emotion, and she also sang the song (everyone else had spoken the words but hadn’t sung). “It felt intense,” she said, “I’ve been going through a lot, so I just kind of put my emotions in there.” We remarked on her beautiful singing voice – and the fact that she sang in character. “It helped me to, like… act,” said the woman who read Emilia. “The way you acted – you were so into what you were doing… You really sang and you were really sad… You made me angry at men. Your energy helped my energy.”

The ensemble then asked Kyle and me to read, and we obliged. I played Desdemona in college, and it was really interesting to step back into this scene. The group loved what we did with it, remarking on our commitment to the scene, the way we moved in it, how we connected to each other, and how they didn’t find it odd at all that Kyle read in his own voice – hearkening back to the conversation we had earlier about reading in our own voices. The group is at a point where they can take what they need from our interpretations and not think of them as definitive, so I’m comfortable reading when they ask us to or it seems appropriate.