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.

October 12, 2012

Today as the women were entering the auditorium, sitting down and chatting, one of them came in, put her stuff down, and said, “I’ve got something to show you.” So we all stopped talking and asked her what was up. She launched into the monologue we began working on last week. She has memorized the first half of it. We all applauded when she stopped, and I asked her what motivated her to do that. “I’m excited about this group,” she said, “And I love this monologue.” Everyone was very impressed by this effort. The first thing we did after warm ups was to finish up our discussion about the Shakespeare Behind Bars documentary. One woman asked the group if they found it “distracting” that some of the men talked openly about their crimes and their personal lives. Nearly everyone chimed in that they did not. One said that she found that sharing their experiences seemed to help them admit responsibility, that it took courage to do it, and that “they are our peers.” Another said it brought them power and honor to admit openly what they had done. We discussed that what one of the men said he hoped to gain by talking about his story was a “balancing of the scales” – that his life could be viewed in its totality, and that perhaps he wouldn’t be judged solely on the worst thing he had ever done.

We then began our work on the monologue. We discussed it in great detail, and then the woman who came in half memorized today volunteered to perform first. She insisted on putting the script down and doing it from memory again. Afterward, the group applauded her but pointed out that she had been focusing on her lines rather than on truly expressing herself. The women who performed in August advised her that this will get better, but it might be a good idea to use the script for now until she has a better handle on what she’s doing with the material. Her next reading was very powerful. I asked her how it felt for her. She said she had read it “how it would be if it was me.” She said she wanted to make us “feel it.” One participant noted that since she slowed down and took her time with the language, it became more meaningful. Because of her pace, she also was able to articulate very well, which people appreciated.

The next to read stood up from her chair (we were sitting in a circle) and walked a bit. She ended up delivering most of the piece out to the house with her back to us, but even so, it was a great reading. She said it felt “awesome,” that she understood it, and that she was able to “ride emotions from the meaning.” One of the participants said that she just wished she had been able to see her face, which led to a brief discussion about the importance of one’s position in relation to the audience – that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and we need to be able to see them.

The last participant to read had a different interpretation than the first two, who found grief and sadness that turned to anger. This participant simmered through the whole piece and then exploded. One of the others made a comment about this difference: “Didn’t we decide she’s just sad at first?” The woman who read, though, said that her interpretation felt more natural – that she was drawing on her own experience in which she is very angry when she grieves. I glanced at the women who have been in the group for a long time, and they were knowingly nodding their heads, so I asked them if they had anything to say. They brought up how it’s okay for actors to have different interpretations of the same material and discussed their own experience of how that worked last time, even in performance.

I was truly impressed today with how deeply the three women who read dove into this piece. They showed no hesitation to fully commit to what they were doing, which is fantastic. I have no doubt that it will not be that way for everyone in the group, but I’m glad that a good number of them will be able to lead by example in this way.

October 9, 2012

We watched the documentary Shakespeare Behind Bars today. The women clearly enjoyed it, commenting as we watched on things they found remarkable or with which they identified. After we finished the movie, we reflected on it with the time we had left. One participant said she found that the process was spiritual, powerful and therapeutic. She thought it was amazing how working with Shakespeare helped the inmates in the documentary “draw pieces together in their lives.” It made this participant think about what her own process “to remorse” has been and will continue to be

Another participant said she thought the group was a great opportunity for the inmates to express their emotions. She could relate to them and remarked on how interesting it was that they formed a sort of family in the group.

One of the women who has been in the group since February told everyone that our group definitely accomplished the things the second participant talked about – an emotional outlet and a feeling of unity. Another said that it seemed like the feeling of unity seemed to be what gave the men the ability to express themselves in ways they could never do elsewhere in prison or possibly even at home.

Another participant said she appreciated that the group was a “platform for completion” – allowing inmates to accomplish a goal for perhaps the first time in their lives. She thought the parallels the men drew between themselves and their characters were interesting, and she also observed that their work gave them a sense of importance. Another chimed in that it wasn’t just importance but self worth, accomplishment and pride.

All of the women expressed that they are even more excited now about their own process, having seen what it can be like in the Shakespeare Behind Bars program. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to watch the film with them. I encouraged them to continue to reflect, and to write down their thoughts if they want to, and we will talk more and do more Shakespeare next time we meet.

October 5, 2012

A number of new participants were added to the program today. We spent a good deal of time introducing ourselves, discussing what everyone wants to get out of the group and what each person brings to the group, and of course going over the group guidelines. Everyone was on board with the guidelines and very enthusiastic about the program. After discussing all of this, we warmed up and played a game. Everyone seemed to enjoy these activities – no one was overly shy, and there was a lot of smiling and laughter.

Following this, we began working on Anne’s monologue from Richard III, which was selected by a participant who has been in the group since the beginning. We read through it twice, and I asked what their first impressions were. Nearly everyone expressed insight into the piece. They identified how emotional it is, how bitter Anne is and how badly she wants revenge. One woman said that Anne wants to take her internal pain and make it external. Another said that the piece echoes something she’s seen in prison: people destroying themselves through bitterness, becoming so consumed with anger that they become the people they hate. Some of them were able to break down the language well, too.

This new group of participants came in with a lot of positive energy and focus. The women already in the group seemed energized by this, and I am very excited to see where the group goes from here.