November 2, 2012

Today as we were settling in, one of the participants shared that she had been so taken by some lines in The Tempest that she had written them in a letter to her daughter. These lines rang true to her because she has felt this way in her own life.  

Miranda:

                                    Alack, what trouble

Was I then to you!

 Prospero:

                                    O, a cherubim

Thou wast that did preserve me! Thou didst smile,

Infuséd with a fortitude from heaven,

When I have decked the sea with drops full salt,

Under my burden groaned; which raised in me

An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

 

We circled up and took our time reading through the second act of the play. The women especially enjoyed the first scene with Stephano, Trinculo and Caliban. They are excited to start exploring it, but decided they want to wait until we’ve read the entire play together before putting anything on its feet.

Some of them are beginning to strongly identify with certain characters, and we talked about that a bit. We ended the day by playing an improv game meant to encourage quick thinking. It was a challenge, but they had a good time with it.

October 26, 2012

Today we began reading The Tempest. We are taking our time, stopping whenever necessary to make sure everyone is following what’s going on, as well as getting details about the characters and their relationships. The women will be trying different roles for a little while until we start to get a good grasp on the characters and decide as a group how we want to cast the show. They are really enjoying it so far. We got through Act One and then felt the need to get up and move. We played an improv game that has to do with a doctor guessing patients’ ailments, and they did a great job and were very imaginative. Many of them made very interesting choices. We’ll definitely revisit this game in the future.

I think this is how it will go for a bit, unless the women decide they want to approach the material differently – we’ll spend most of the meeting time reading through the script and discussing it, and then we’ll get on our feet and explore different skills through improv. This could change, though. I’m always open to their input.

October 23, 2012

A couple of new participants joined the group today. We began by welcoming them and warming up. We then played an improv game that the women who’ve been in the group for awhile really enjoy, and that proved to be a lot of fun. This is a very creative group. The first participant to read showed that she understood the piece, but she said she felt awkward, and like she was reading it. The others commended her on her pace and articulation, but I asked her why she thought she wasn’t connecting to it. She said that she is having trouble with the vulnerability of the first part, and struggling with the anger in the second because anger is the easiest emotion to portray, and she didn’t want to overdo it. I reminded her that her interpretation is hers alone, and it’s all about experimentation – not doing it right. Her second reading was much better – she said she had been directing it, especially the words “hated wretch” to someone she knows. One participant encouraged her, saying that she was definitely making it her own.

The next participant to read showed a huge improvement over her last reading. Everyone applauded, and she said that she had been working on it a lot outside of the group. I asked her how she felt she had done. She said that she felt that she needs to work more on her physicality, but that the words are coming out smoother. One participant asked her to try the first part of the piece again – to try more to “embody” the character. There was a huge change, and I asked her how that happened. She said that she took a pre-beat to think about things she’s lost while she’s been in prison and the death of someone close to her.

Next was a participant who had not yet performed, and who has been fairly quiet and uninvolved. We were all actually a little taken aback when she volunteered, and everyone cheered her on as she took the stage. Though clearly nervous and stumbling over some of the words, she read the entire piece with a  strong voice. When she finished, everyone applauded loudly. I asked her what it was like. She said that she had been waiting to perform until she felt more comfortable with the group, and that she has stage fright. I asked her if it had been as bad as she thought it would be, and she said no. One of the participants remarked how important it was that she had gotten all the way through the piece, and that she had gotten stronger the more she read. Another woman, who knows this participant fairly well, talked about how impressed she was. She said that this woman is an “anti-type of person” whom she’s never seen volunteer for very much; she actually didn’t think she’d stick to this group. She said she was completely surprised when she volunteered, and that this was a huge step. The participant who read declined to read again, but she clearly feels better now that she’s done it once and received so much support. We all cheered and applauded again as she took her seat.

One of the participants who joined today volunteered to go next. She said that she had felt awkward because the words were confusing, but the rest of the group praised her just for getting up in front of all of us on her first day and reading. The other new participant volunteered to go next and had a similar experience. We made very sure to emphasize how much we appreciated their willingness to dive in like that.

The next woman to perform gave a very truthful, emotional reading. She said that she had “just put herself into it.” Others said it looked like she was really feeling it – that it flowed, and she had made it her own. We also applauded her for taking the notes she received last time she performed, when the group thought she had focused too much on anger in the first part of the piece. She took that in, adjusted, but did not do anything that felt false to her. She is still drawing on her own experiences. One of the participants remarked that she did a good job of keeping going when she skipped a line – and the woman who read said that she had actually skipped it on purpose to see if we were paying attention. Of course we were!

The next to read has been in the group since February. She was one of our Emilias in the last performance. She felt that her first reading was “okay,” but that she could have been more clear. She was happy about her pacing, though, and her being okay with taking pauses. I mentioned that at a point when she stood up in anger, it really seemed motivated, and not like she just decided as an actor to do it. She read again, and got much deeper into it, especially when she hit the phrase “untimely fall.” She was completely committed, even when the words didn’t come easily. She said that she felt better about it, and felt that she “hit” more emotion. Still, another participant who’s been with us for a long time said that she needed to commit more to the anger – that she knows she’s got more that she’s holding back.

Then the first participant who read today asked to go again. This reading was completely different – she got so emotional that she actually shook. She said she was trying to express the feelings inside, and by focusing more on hurt than on anger, she was able to do that better.

This was a great day filled with lots of discoveries. Friday we will being working on The Tempest. Everyone is reading and raring to go!

October 19, 2012

One of the participants came in today with a copy of The Tempest in her hand. I asked her what she thought of it. She said she was really enjoying it, and that there was a lot in it that seemed pertinent to issues they deal with in prison: a father/daughter relationship, Caliban being treated like an idiot even though he’s not, Ariel being the voice of reason. She also said she could see certain people in the group playing certain characters. We warmed up and did an exercise called Blind Cars, which is meant to build trust with one another and comfort with responsibility. The last group, overall, did not enjoy this exercise, even though they saw its value, but this group took to it for the most part. Some said that they weren’t used to trusting others, and that it felt good – even liberating. Others said that it was difficult for them to give up control. We discussed why the exercise is important to what we’re doing, and then the women who’ve been in the group the longest brought up how much more open this group is than the last one. We talked about how important that has already been and will continue to be.

The first participant who wanted to perform the monologue said after her reading that she felt “weird,” wasn’t ready and hadn’t “embodied the character.” The others said that sometimes she had seemed connected, but not all the time. I asked her why she thought that was. She said that she had been worried about the audience, what we would think, and that that had left her unable to focus on herself. I shared that sometimes actors need to be selfish – if she focuses on herself, what she’s feeling, how she’s connecting, she is much more likely to get the effect she wants across to the audience without actually thinking about it. I assured her that that’s what her peers and her facilitator are for – to analyze what she’s doing so that she can focus on just doing it. I advised her to take a pre-beat before beginning again, and she did. During her second performance, she connected much more. She said she had been imagining that it was her father who had died, and this made her feel more hurt than angry. The other participants applauded her, talking about how much they love her voice, which is very strong and powerful. They asked her if she could face the audience more, and she said she didn’t feel like she should, so we had a discussion then about why it’s important for the audience to see an actor’s face, and at what times one might make a decision to hide one’s face.

The next to read was very nervous. She has some background in performance, but it’s been a long time since she’s been on stage. She read very quickly at first, but fell in at the phrase “self-same hand” and was extremely strong through the finish. We asked her about her performance. She said that the feelings of betrayal and anger had been easy for her to access because she’s been betrayed by someone very close to her, but that it was much more difficult to access the sadness she wanted in the first part of the piece. I assured her that this is totally normal – often, that’s what holds actors back – that fear of being vulnerable. She said she wanted to work towards it, and tried again, but stopped because she was too afraid of the emotion. She said she feared that if she started crying, she wouldn’t be able to stop. Again, I assured her that that was normal, and that we will work on ways of making sure the emotions never get too scary – and part of that is being perfectly fine with backing off when it gets extremely uncomfortable. It takes time to get to a place of comfort, being that emotional in front of others.

We didn’t have much time left, and the women asked me to perform the piece. As I always do, I did so with the caveat that they should not copy me, but rather get ideas from my interpretation, which, of course, would not be the “right” one. I also asked that they look for places where I could improve my performance. After I read, I asked for their feedback. One of the women who’s been in the group since April said that what she loves about watching me perform is that I “practice what I preach” to them. She said that she noticed that I took my time, didn’t think ahead, committed fully to the emotions in the piece and didn’t judge myself when I said the wrong word in one place. Another said that during the cursing I had become “a wicked witch,” which is an interpretation that hadn’t occurred to her. They liked that I hadn’t moved much and faced forward the entire time, although when I asked them if that was “better” than what others had done, they affirmed that it was not, it was just different, and they liked it. They also really liked how slowly I had gone through the piece, which was partly not having it memorized, but they remarked that I had never dropped my energy when pausing – that there was power in the silence. And that, of course, is something I’ve been telling them.

That is the reason I am willing to perform for them sometimes – it really seems to help them understand the advice that I give them when they can see the example of how I take it myself. It’s good to show them that I hold myself accountable, and it seems to help them be more willing to take the risks I’m encouraging them to take if I do it myself.

October 16, 2012

After warm ups and a game for quick thinking and focus, which everyone enjoyed, we went right into our monologue. The first participant really went for the emotional punch, breathing heavily and giving it a lot of volume. She said she thought that she had gone too quickly, but overall it felt natural. Some of the participants felt that the breathing had been distracting at first, but that if she could build it, it would help them to understanding that the character is grieving. We talked about the challenge of building the intensity of a scene or monologue. The second time, she slowed down but still read pretty quickly. Her vocal freedom in this reading was very impressive – at times her voice was high pitched, at others she practically growled. Everyone was very excited about that. She said that it’s hard for her to express emotions in her everyday life, even outside of prison, but that on stage she feels much more free.

The second to read was very controlled and quiet. She said that she wanted to get across a feeling of coldness and sharpness. We realized, though, that her delivery was a bit misdirected since she had to leave prior to our breaking down the piece last time – she didn’t realize that she wasn’t talking to Richard, or even just one person, throughout the entire piece. This cleared things up for her a bit, and her second reading was much better. She said she felt it was “more to the point.” Her voice escalated without much effort on her part because she was more connected to what she was saying. She has a very distinctive, raspy voice, and we’re going to have to work on volume a lot, but she’s already improving.

The next participant stumbled a bit over the words, stopped and apologized. I looked to our “veterans” and said, “What am I going to say?” They smiled and said, “Just keep going when you mess up! And don’t apologize!” Beyond that, I asked her what the experience was like for her. She said that she was trying to show different emotions rather than doing the same thing throughout the piece. She said that it’s been a long time since she’s been on stage and that she was nervous. Her second reading was definitely more relaxed, and the emotions she wanted to express came through more clearly. She said it felt “fresher” to her. Everyone was really taken by the vulnerability she showed.

The next to read also has been in the group for a bit longer than a month. She gave a very quiet, intense reading. Afterward she shook it off, saying she was “starting to feel wretched.” She said she felt like she had been spitting the words out. One of the others said that she had seemed cold and intense, but compassionate. Several said that they had felt close to tears watching her – that something rang very true to them about how she hadn’t “let herself go” – she seemed numb. This provided another example of how perfectly fine it is for actors to have different interpretations of the same material.

The last to read had earlier jumped up and taken a couple of the others aside to plan something. She began, first revealing that she has partly memorized the piece, by running on stage as if after the coffin and having the others hold her back. Her performance was very emotional – she rode a roller coaster, ricocheting between extreme grief, resignation and anger. One of the others said that she seemed overwhelmed by emotion and unable to detach. The woman who read said she got the idea for her staging while watching the second participant read today. She wanted people to try to console her, to get in her way and try to “bring her back to life.” She gave herself an obstacle. She said she had taken in what everyone else had done and played off of it. She said she was also drawing on her own experience of losing someone when she was very young.

This led to a new discussion. She said that she feels that it is wrong to wish for revenge, and so she played Anne as if she were in her place. But Anne calls down curses on Richard in the piece – there’s no getting around that. I pointed out that while it’s extremely valuable to do what she did – asking “How am I the same as my character?” – it’s equally important to ask “How am I different?” I then asked the women if it were possible to truthfully play characters who are different than they are – what that would take. The response was that it would take a lack of judgment and a desire to tell the story the way it was written. The participant who had just read remarked that it was kind of like people who judge prisoners, but who haven’t been in their situations. She said that if she didn’t want to be judged by people on the outside, she shouldn’t judge her character, either.

We left it on that note. I made sure to tell them again how wonderful it is that they are diving in as a group, taking all of these risks and making all of these discoveries.