Session Five: Week 8

Tuesday

Tonight we read and discussed Act III Scene IV, in which Desdemona and Emilia first witness the change in Othello, Cassio pleads with Desdemona, and Cassio gives the handkerchief he found to Bianca to copy.

As spectators, we cannot help but cringe as Desdemona unwittingly confirms the suspicions that Iago has planted in Othello’s mind. Why does she respond the way she does, by lying about having misplaced the handkerchief and continuing her quest to get Cassio’s job back? “If you haven’t done anything, you’re not even thinking about it,” said one woman. Why would she be anything but innocent at this point? She has no idea how loaded this handkerchief and the Cassio issue have become.

“She’s committed,” said another ensemble member. “She’s gone against her father, she’s gone with [Othello] to war… Once you’re so far in, you’re like, ‘I’ve put so much into it, I have to keep going.’”

There were audible reactions when we read Emilia’s comment after Othello’s exit:

‘Tis not a year or two shows us a man.

They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;

They eat us hungerly, and when they are full,

They belch us.

It’s a feeling with which many of us are familiar. “They use you, abuse you, and then lose you,” said one person.

We talked at length about Emilia’s culpability in what happens, abused wife or not. How much does she suspect about Iago’s plot? Many ensemble members concluded that it doesn’t matter how much she knows – she clearly feels remorse for stealing the handkerchief, and she witnesses that theft’s impact on Othello’s and Desdemona’s relationship, even if she knows nothing else. “This is exactly like Romeo and Juliet,” said a longtime ensemble member. “All of those people – she can make things right at any moment and doesn’t.”

Since the next scene is quite lengthy, we spent the remainder of our time on an improv game. Although we’ve talked about the idea that improv doesn’t have to be funny, and often can be very serious, we do tend toward being silly in our games – working with such heavy material as Othello, we need some lightness. The game was going well – we were having a lot of fun – when some subject matter came up that seemed innocuous to most but deeply upset one of the women who was on stage. “No,” she said, knowing well the rule of saying yes in improv, “I have to say no to this.” We stopped that part of the game, and as she staying on stage, I watched her closely to see if I needed to stop the exercise. She finished, and then began gathering her things. “Are you okay?” I asked quietly. “Yes,” she said, “But I have to leave now.” Two of her friends who are in the group gave me reassuring looks and escorted her out, leaving the rest of the group puzzled and concerned.

“What just happened?” asked one woman. “Something came up in the exercise that upset her,” said another.

“Yes,” I said, “And I think we can take a couple of things out of this. One is that, if one of us says ‘no’ on stage or stops an exercise, we stop it right there, no questions asked. The other is that we all agreed weeks ago that if someone is upset and needs to leave the room, that’s okay, and we will respect her by allowing her to talk about it if she wants to and not asking questions if she doesn’t.”

The group still seemed uneasy. This is the first time this has happened this session, so it’s new territory for most of us. “Are we okay?” I asked. They responded that, yes, they were okay, just confused. We were out of time at that point, so we lifted our ring together and left for the day.

It was not an ideal way to end a meeting, but this is likely the first, not the only, time that someone needs a breather from whatever it is we’re doing. I think the shock of what happened is due to its occurring during a very silly game when we weren’t expecting any triggers, while we are all expecting to be upset (but safe and taking care of each other) while working on our play. It’s an important lesson that just about anything can be a trigger – we don’t know all of the circumstances of each others’ lives – and we need to take care of each other as an ensemble at all times.

Friday

When the ensemble member who left early on Tuesday arrived, I asked if I could speak with her privately. She smiled and said yes. I asked her first how she was doing, and she said that she was okay, it’s just a sensitive time for her, and it took her by surprise that the game took such a turn. I asked her if there was anything that I or the group could have done to handle the situation better, and she said no, she didn’t feel uncomfortable with what happened at all. I reiterated what I had said to the group after she left so she would know that she was returning to a safe space. She seemed at ease with things.

After our warm up, another ensemble member asked if we should consider making some topics “off limits” in improv to spare people’s feelings. She mentioned the specific topic that upset the woman who left early on Tuesday. The group seemed not to know how to respond, so I first thanked her for the concern and sensitivity that led her to make the suggestion, and then said that my opinion is that we should not censor what we’re doing beyond complying with prison policy – that we are working with a play that brings up all sorts of things that may upset us, and that we need to feel secure in taking care of one another and maintaining a safe space. “I’m just worried that people will get so upset they won’t want to come back,” she said. “I appreciate that,” I replied, “But I think we handled things well last time, and I believe we’ll continue to handle them well going forward.” I asked the group whether they agreed or wanted to discuss further, and they were in agreement with me, so we moved on.

We took some time to play a goofy game – we needed to lighten up! This proved to be a significant relief, and we were all refreshed when we circled up to read through Act IV Scene I - a very ugly scene in which Iago further manipulates Othello to the point that he beats Desdemona in front of others. It’s upsetting material no matter what your life experiences have been, and many in our ensemble have experienced similar situations firsthand.

One ensemble member, her voice trembling, said, “I really dislike the way Shakespeare has taken this put-together, articulate, respected man – and then he’s so easily taken in.” We revisited this idea that we all have at least one major weakness, and this play upsets us because we know how fragile we all are – we all have the potential to become Othello.

Another woman cannot get over how easily things go for Iago at this point in the play. “Iago does have this planned out very well, but he doesn’t have to work for it – it all just falls into place.” We talked about the things that Iago plans, and the things that happen by chance, providing him opportunities to take advantage. This is maddening to us as well.

Why, when Othello says that he will poison Desdemona, does Iago push him to strangle her instead? “It’s more personal,” said one woman. You can disconnect from poisoning, she said, “But when you’re strangling someone, you have to look them in the eye.” Another woman said that this is Iago’s way of driving Othello completely over the edge – he doesn’t just want him to suffer, he wants to destroy him.

“What does he have against Desdemona?” asked one woman. Several of our ensemble members have a theory that Iago is gay – that he may not even be conscious of being gay, but that his attachment to Othello results in overpowering jealousy of Desdemona. Others agree that he is jealous of Desdemona, but think it’s more of a “power thing” – he says, “The general’s wife is now the general,” and some of us think that he can’t stand the idea that anyone has more sway over Othello than him – so Cassio and Desdemona have to go, too.

“Once you hit a certain level of rage, it’s uncontrollable. You want everyone to feel the hurt you feel,” said one ensemble member, talking about both Iago and Othello.

After we read the part of the scene when Othello beats Desdemona, a few women expressed surprise that none of the other men on stage intervene to protect her. We discussed how sometimes when people are shocked, they freeze; I also mentioned that there have been studies showing that people are less likely to take action if there are a number of people witnessing the same crime. We also discussed the fact that there’s not much stage direction from Shakespeare here – it’s possible that we could stage this so that people do intervene.

Once we had read the whole scene, our discussion took an even more personal tone, as we brought our experiences to bear on our interpretation of this story. We find the play so terribly tragic because it rings so true.

“This play makes me not want to trust anyone,” said one person. “It makes me want to be celibate,” said another. “No,” said another woman, “Every relationship needs good communication. Othello never talks to Desdemona or Cassio about any of this.”

Does Othello have PTSD, we wondered? Is this the trauma that breaks him? “Every other area of your life can be going smoothly, and one little thing drives you crazy,” said one woman.

This, said another ensemble member, is how men are. “They hold themselves together so well when they think they’re in control, but when they lose control they’re a mess.” The ensemble responded strongly that this is not specific to men – “it’s a people thing.”

We all have the potential to be any of these characters, and as we progress further into the story, that is hitting home more and more. Our discussions get deeper and deeper. “I get why they [prison staff] want us to take this class,” remarked one woman, “I keep seeing myself in this play. I’m learning so much.”

Session Five: Week 7

Tuesday

We began reading and discussing Act III tonight with such gusto that we actually never stopped to play a game!

As we read, we pondered why Cassio doesn’t just listen to Emilia and Desdemona when they tell him that Othello is going to bring him back into his job – that he has to keep a “politic difference” because of Montano’s status, but not to fear anything long term. They tell him this repeatedly, but he makes a choice to continue to trust Iago, who does not give him information directly from their boss. The ensemble explored not only the relationship between the men – the trust forged in battle – but Cassio’s agony over his mistake, his lack of sleep, and the possibility that he is still drunk or hungover from the night before. All of these things may cloud his ability to make the right decision.

We also talked more about Iago – he’s got Cassio’s job now, and yet he keeps going. One woman said that once your pride is hurt badly enough, there is nothing that can quench your thirst for revenge – that he feels he has the moral high ground, and what happens is everyone else’s fault. “He’s got a victim mentality,” she said. “The more justified you feel, the angrier you get,” said another woman.

“He was passed up for a position he deserved, and it’s okay to be angry about it,” said a longtime ensemble member. “But he takes it too far,” said another. The first person replied, “I don’t know if he meant it to go this far – if he meant for someone to die.” Another said, “It doesn’t matter – every choice leads to something. All the choices we made led us here.”

We decided to table the discussion till we’ve read more. Because of the theme that is emerging of duality in this play, the ensemble is currently questioning everyone’s motives – we even began to question whether Desdemona means what she says, although I think the more we read of her, the less we’ll question her. I reminded the group that, prior to this act, we haven’t heard much at all from Desdemona or Emilia, and we’re likely to know them a lot better the deeper we get. At this point, some members of the group feel Desdemona’s motives are pure and from a place of friendship and/or interest in Othello’s wellbeing (she knows Cassio has his back), but others aren’t so sure.

Then we started in on Act III, Scene III, which is long and intense, and intensely interesting. Our excitement grew the more we read – this group is really in love with the language, and many gasped audibly or laughed in appreciation at Iago’s skillful manipulation of Othello – how upset he make Othello without having actually said anything of substance. Some women spoke of having manipulated others in this way, i.e., “Are you going to wear your hair like that?” Others spoke of recognizing this kind of behavior in others from their lives.

“He’s manipulating – he’s playing a game,” said one woman. “He’s planting a seed,” said another. One woman said she felt sorry for Othello as he began to lose his composure.

I hearkened back to one woman’s likening of Iago to a chess master several weeks back – of being someone who is thinking far ahead but remaining open to opportunity so he can react to his opponent’s moves.

That same woman likened Iago to Loki, the god of mischief. She strongly feels that, while he means harm, he doesn’t mean for things to go as far as they do.

We ran out of time before we got to the end of the scene, and as we put our ring back up, one woman said, “This was AWESOME tonight.”

Friday

We launched right back into Act III, Scene III, tonight after a quick recap for someone who was absent on Tuesday. We took our time breaking down Othello’s soliloquy after Iago’s exit, which contains a fairly complicated metaphor. We noted that he immediately leaps to faults in himself rather than faults in Desdemona to explain her unfaithfulness – that many people besides Iago have primed him for this.

Following our reading of the section when Desdemona drops her handkerchief and Emilia gives it to Iago, one member of the group asked if we thought Emilia was in on the plot. Another stated pretty adamantly that she seems like a battered wife. “If she was thinking, she’d think this was sketchy, but at this point she’s so broken she’s not thinking,” she said. We did note that she seems to feel remorse the moment she actually hand the handkerchief to her husband.

We made our way through the remainder of the scene – Othello’s rage and Iago’s continued and masterful manipulation of him. “This is one of our big challenges,” I said to the group. “We need to really understand what makes Othello go from one extreme to the other so quickly. Many productions break this scene up, but Shakespeare wrote it to be played in real time, and we need to keep that in mind. How do we find the truth in that? And, likewise, we need to keep in mind that, no matter how dark Iago’s intentions, all of these people trust him.”

“This is just life,” said one woman. “Iago’s basically tapping into Othello’s one major weakness,” said another. She spoke of his insecurity, doubt, and lack of control. “He trusted one person, gave away his heart, and she betrayed him.”

“Iago has been jealous of Othello his whole life, and now’s his opportunity,” said another. Another woman brought up that Othello’s insecurities may be rooted in the cultural and class differences between him and all of the people he deals with.

Then one woman said that, if she were playing Iago, she’d want to walk around pretending to be him all day – that she’d want to fully inhabit him 24-7 as a way of truthfully telling his story. This led to a pretty animated conversation about how that method of acting, while it can make for great artistic effect, lends itself to great personal risk (ensemble members brought up Heath Ledger as an example). Although our group is not an acting class, I felt it was important in this moment to explain the difference between safe and unsafe methods of acting, since this group is already diving much deeper into the material than past ensembles and is likely to continue to do so. This material is rich and intellectually stimulating, but it is also raw and emotional, and many ensemble members can personally relate to what some of the characters go through. It is of the utmost importance that our exploration and storytelling remain safe – that we continue to draw on our personal experiences to learn about the play (and thus gain new perspective on our stories), but that we not re-live past trauma of our own while trying to tell these characters’ stories.

As always with this program, I go where the group leads me. If we are going to get a bit into acting technique as a means of safe storytelling, then that’s where we’re going. We will maintain our emphasis on process rather than performance; on gaining empathy and knowledge rather than on becoming Actors with a Capital A. We will continue to take care of each other. 

Session Five: Week 6, Part 1

Tuesday

We spent a lot of time checking in within our circle tonight, as there is a lot going on with some members of the group, and we all wanted to listen as they shared. The support and strength coming from the circle were heartening – the willingness to listen, to offer condolences and gentle advice, and to segue into group jokes and more lighthearted talk that enabled us to move on… I was very glad that we took the time that we did.

We then finished reading Act II Scene III, intending to get it on its feet. But the group discussion surrounding the scene and characters was so intense, enlightening, and constructive that we never quite got there – and no one seemed to mind.

We talked a lot about Iago and our varying “takes” on him. Some think that he’s arrogant and out to prove something – either he doesn’t think he’s that bad or he doesn’t care. One woman believes strongly that his intent is to prove how smart he is. Then someone mentioned that perhaps he is “evil,” and the conversation took a turn toward the stuff that is at the heart of the work that we do.

“He’s NOT evil,” said one woman. “Just imagine if you’d worked your whole life toward something, only to be passed over and have nothing to show for it. I’d break down, too.”

“It must be exhausting, carrying around all those resentments,” said another. “This is me six years ago – I know how this feels.”

“How many of us have dated Iago?” asked one woman, and at least five others raised their hands. “I relate to Iago,” said another. “I dealt drugs, and I did them – I was always stealing from Peter to pay Paul.”

“Frannie always reminds us not to judge characters,” said a longtime member of the group. “Remember how a month ago I said I hated Cassio? Now I might like him. I might even want to play him… and I think you knew, Frannie.”

We all laughed. “Well, at first he can come off as kind of smug – he’s the Golden Boy, and nobody likes the Golden Boy,” I said, “But now that you’ve seen him take this fall, you can empathize with him more because it’s obvious that he’s not perfect… This is what we want to do - find our way in so we can understand and empathize with the characters – and sometimes that way in is through our personal experience.”

Sarah then said that she had gained new insight into Iago through what our ensemble was sharing. “Sometimes it just takes a person who’s walked a different path,” said a woman who’s been in the group for two years. “It is so strange, what you learn about yourself here. If you ever want to really learn about yourself, get locked up for a little while,” said another.

Another woman, who’d been rather quiet up to this point, said, “I don’t know… I really click with Iago. But, you know… I love like Othello, and I hate like Iago.” Many ensemble members nodded. “That’s the thing about this group,” she continued, “At so many points, it just shows me myself. I never thought I would be using this… but I use it in real life.” She elaborated a bit, speaking about using traits of the character she played in Shrew to guide her in one of her current pursuits.

We then branched off into a conversation about the influence of Othello’s military experience on his behavior in the play. Soldiers need to take their “fight-or-flight” responses and react properly, which often means staying calm while being on high alert. “It’s like being here,” said one woman. Another pointed out that it is selfless to serve one’s country as a soldier, and Kyle reminded all of us that, while that may be true, this isn’t Othello’s country – which other characters point out constantly – and that may give us more insight into him.

We briefly talked about Roderigo, too, as we ended our reading of the scene. Again he is ready to give up, and again he lets Iago pull him back into the plot. What’s going on with him? “Maybe he just has nothing to lose,” said one woman. This made a light bulb go off for me – when you truly have nothing, you often cling to some crazy hope. Maybe that’s the way in for whomever plays this character.

We are not even halfway through the play, and already the group’s insight is staggering to me. They are teaching me so much about this play, and I am so honored to be with them through this process. 

Session Five: Week 4

Tuesday

Tonight as we waited for people to arrive, a long-time member of the group gathered those of us who were there for a “creative minds meeting.” She shared that she’s been getting ideas for how the characters in our play would behave from watching TV shows and movies set in similar time periods. She also floated an idea of recording some of the characters’ “thought” monologues as MP3s and playing them during our performance while the actors on stage do whatever we feel is physically appropriate. This is definitely an idea we’ll be exploring with the rest of the group as we go.

We played a couple of games and then continued our work on Act I Scene III (it’s a long one!). We are still working on the idea of reining in our enthusiasm so that people can be heard when they speak – there is still a lot of talking over each other. This is going to become increasingly irritating to those with quieter voices if it continues unabated, so we need to keep reminding each other to take turns.

We read the “middle” of the scene and then put it on its feet. Some aspects of it worked, and others didn’t. After a lot of discussion, I noticed that the group had organically done something that many directors are trained to do – they adjusted the set (a table and chalkboard) and our blocking to create two distinct zones – one for the personal drama, and one for the war talk. They did this without stating outright that that was their intention, I pointed it out to them because I wasn’t sure they realized they had done it – and these are moments that are important to note because of how much they boost the ensemble’s confidence and ability to take ownership of the material.

We continued to adjust what we were doing to give the right emphasis to the most important lines and characters. We discussed taking this further in the future, although we also decided to move forward because we are at risk of becoming bogged down in this scene. Our exploration at this point is so valuable in terms of getting us oriented to the play, its characters, and its themes, but if we get hung up on things like detailed blocking, we begin to get impatient to get through to the end, and we have lost members in the past who felt we were moving too slowly. Our goal is still to cast the play before the December holidays, and in order to do that, we need to keep pushing forward.

Friday

Kyle and I arrived just in time for check-in tonight. The ensemble shared news good and bad, and then we lowered our ring together and got to work.

We honed in on the last part of Act I Scene III, in which Iago and Roderigo have so much back and forth… and Iago’s language is so evocative and complex. Although some members of our ensemble were visibly intimidated by the language, we worked together to eke out its meaning. This led to a lot of animated discussion – what is Iago really talking about? What are his objectives? Why does he talk to Roderigo this way? “It’s like a chess game,” said one woman, “You use all the pieces to your advantage – even the little ones. People learn a lot about you from the way you play chess.”

We then turned our attention to Roderigo. It’s so easy to fixate on the main three characters, but in this play the “minor” characters are potentially just as interesting.

A woman who has been in the group since we worked on The Tempest posed the question, “Is Roderigo like Caliban?” Others who were also in that ensemble were perplexed – what did she mean? She stated that she sees Caliban as misunderstood, seeking attention, and savage, and she thinks there’s a touch of all that in Roderigo. “He’s not on the same intellectual level as everyone else, so he’s easy to manipulate,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” said another long-time ensemble member. “I think he’s just naïve – not dumb.” Another woman said she relates to Roderigo and thinks he’s more like her interpretation of Gremio (in The Taming of the Shrew) – “blotted out right away,” with no one giving him a real chance.

Another woman said, “He’s really in love – look at how much he sacrifices for Desdemona.” In the end, he gives all of his possessions and money in his pursuit – and ultimately his life. “But is that love?” asked Kyle. “What does he hope is actually going to happen?” This led others to postulate that what Roderigo feels is not love, but obsession. Still others came back with the idea that it could be obsessive, but could also be unrequited love. We eventually agreed to table the conversation for now, as Roderigo’s words and actions in subsequent scenes are likely to continue to shape our ideas.

We closed by playing our first improv game, and the game was “Yes, and…” In this game, every line must begin with “Yes, and…” in order to get us used to the ground rules of improvisation, which help us so much throughout the year. This proved to be a lot of fun, with some scenes working better than others, and some people who were clearly very nervous getting through their scenes without giving up – a huge accomplishment.

We all agree it’s time to start doing more of this, and we’ll continue with it next week. We also agreed that our plan for Tuesday is to put the end of Act I Scene III on its feet as many times as people wanted to (many of us are itching to play with this scene), then to run the entire scene, and then to move forward.

Session Five: Week 3

Tuesday

As we were warming up tonight, a returning member remarked, “This play is so much better than Shrew.” I asked her to expand upon that comment. She responded that she feels it’s better written: the plot isn’t as confusing (both for the ensemble and the audience) and “the words are better.” Others in the ensemble agreed - as did I! She seemed tentative in her opinions, and I reassured her that she’s not off base - Othello was written years after The Taming of the Shrew, which was among Shakespeare’s first plays. “Isn’t that reassuring?” commented Sarah. “Even Shakespeare got better at what he did.”

Another returning member requested that we play a very physical game, which meant that some of us who weren’t feeling up to it sat out. But we were all still invested in the game, paying attention, and learning from each other. Those actively playing had a blast, beginning to learn how to maintain focus and listen to each other during a game that can get rather raucous. 

We then continued our work on Act I Scene II, which we read last week. We cast it and put it on its feet, working together to figure out where entrances should be and letting it play out from there. When the scene had finished, the ensemble was very vocal and constructive, both about aspects that worked and those that didn’t.

We all were excited that the woman who played Iago felt the instinct to slink over to the side to watch things unfold without being actively involved until she had to be - we feel it’s consistent with the character. In this first go at the scene, everyone except Othello had swords drawn, and we had a lengthy discussion about whether or not this was appropriate and what evidence there might be in the text to guide us. We ended up deciding (at least for tonight) that if Brabantio and those with whom he enters come in “with pitchforks,” or at least with swords drawn, then it would be natural for Othello’s people to draw swords to protect him, and then it would be natural for him to remain calm and tell them to put their swords away.

At this point a returning member offered two points of constructive criticism for the ensemble (including herself). The first was that, in our excitement, we are frequently speaking over each other, and it can be frustrating. We need to make more of an effort to take turns speaking. This is an excellent point, and something we will work on. She also voiced her apprehension about moving through the material too slowly and suggested that ensemble members should be reading ahead on their own. A few members of our ensemble respectfully suggested that this isn’t an entirely reasonable expectation, as they find the language too challenging to read on their own and don’t understand it till they speak or hear it out loud with the group. I suggested a compromise in which I would provide a modern language synopsis of each scene so that the content could be covered individually ahead of time, even if the actual text was not. This was accepted enthusiastically. 

We also decided that, rather than assuming we all remember a scene we read several days or a week ago, any time we put something on its feet we will read it together first to refresh it. Our ensemble is diverse in many ways, and some are prepared to move at a faster pace than others. It is a challenge to keep everyone engaged without moving so fast we lose some, or moving so slowly that we lose others. We are hopeful that we can find a good compromise with this “hybrid approach.” 

We then played the scene on its feet again and found that the ensemble members on stage had really listened to and taken the notes of the audience. The scene worked so well - we saw stage pictures that clearly foreshadowed dynamics in future scenes, which was exciting so early in our season.

Tonight was pretty much the ideal of how Shakespeare in Prison functions: we worked together as a team, listening to one another, giving and taking criticism constructively, solving problems, bolstering one another’s confidence, and ending on a very positive note.

Friday

Sometimes we are delayed getting through security at the prison, and tonight was one of those nights. We have always encouraged the ensemble to begin working without us so that time isn’t wasted, but in years past it hasn’t been a surprise to walk into our room a bit late and find that warm ups haven’t yet begun. Tonight, however, we walked in to a circle that had already warmed up, checked in, and decided to hold the Ring when they saw us coming down the hall. I feel like a broken record in this blog, stating again and again how exciting it is that the ensemble is working together like this so early in the season, but it is truly a thrill, and the result of years of problem solving by the ensemble, as well as a testament to the energy of our new ensemble members.

True to what we decided on Tuesday, we began by re-reading the majority of Act I Scene III to make sure it was fresh in our minds. We then discussed how to stage it - we all agreed that we should use a table as is noted in the text, but there were varying opinions on whether there should be chairs at the table, who should sit at them, and what should be on/around the table. For tonight, we decided that there should be a map on a chalkboard that the Officer could write on as information came in, as well as letters and maps on the table. 

Having set our physical scene, we discussed its atmosphere. Ensemble members threw out words like tired, contentious, chaotic, high stakes (“It’s a war room!”). We talked about how this beginning energy must stand in contrast to Othello’s energy, and, later, Desdemona’s. “What do they bring?” I asked. Othello brings a measure of calm and control, we decided. As far as Desdemona, one ensemble member said the energy at first should be masculine because she is so feminine. “She’s virtue; she’s love,” said one woman. “She’s gonna bring down the tension in there room because she smells good, she looks good - I mean, come on, she’s Desdemona,” said another. Another said, “Desdemona isn’t just the counterpart to Iago - she’s the counterpart to this whole scene.”

We began exploring the scene on its feet and found that we only got through the first part, in which various information comes in about the impending Turkish invasion of Cyprus, because so much is happening. We continued to work together to figure out where people come from and where they go. We are still talking over each other a bit, but there is clearly an effort being made to do better. Kyle mentioned to the group how unusual it is for people who are new to theatre to be so naturally able to create appropriate and effective stage pictures, and he’s right. It’s quite an exhilarating thing to be a part of.

One of our returning members quietly told me an idea she has for our set: we re-paint one side of our existing flats to be a giant map of the region in which our play takes place, and then, as the play becomes less and less about war and more and more about relationships, we flip the flats to a more intimate setting or image. I have to say that, as a professional director, this is an idea that resonates with me as one that I would love to have in any production of Othello. She chose not to present the idea to the ensemble yet - she didn’t want to interrupt the work that was being done on this scene - and it’s possible that, even if this idea is universally embraced, our ideas will evolve, but this is a wonderful place to begin our conversation about the set. It also shows very clearly how confident this woman has become in her analysis of Shakespeare and ability to express her opinion - we have not read through this play together as a group yet, but she’s read it on her own and clearly understands its themes very well. She did not have this level of confidence when I first met her - she was reticent to share opinions unless nudged - and it speaks volumes to me about her personal growth that after such a short time she has such a clearly defined concept for this play.

We closed with a game. When I was eliminated from the circle, I took the time to really observe the group. All of us - those still in the game and those who were “out” - were smiling and participating. There was a palpable feeling of camaraderie. Earlier in the evening, I asked a woman who is now in her fourth season of SIP if it’s just me, or if this group is actually different, and she agreed with me. “I think we did a better job welcoming the new people in,” she said, “It made them comfortable right away. And they’re just great.” Those who have been following this blog for awhile will know she’s right. The solutions developed by past ensembles to deal with the beginning of a session appear to have worked. We’ll see how our solutions for other challenges work as we go along.