Season Seven: Week 17

Tuesday

 

We checked in briefly, with some ensemble members sharing a bit about their Christmases, but the general sense was that we wanted to get to work rather than dwell on a holiday spent in prison, so that’s what we did.

The woman playing Macduff very much wanted to work the scene that begins with the Porter’s soliloquy and includes her character’s entrance to the castle. She and our Porter had previously gone over the scene a bit and had some ideas to try out. I felt a little uneasy—our Macduff was very clearly pushing our Porter, who was hesitant. I asked her several times if she’d rather not work the scene yet, but she agreed to do it, so I let it go.

The ensemble collaborated to find the best way to stage the scene. They decided to use our curtain as a literal gate through which the characters could enter, with the knocking coming from back stage. There was some disagreement, though, and I reminded the group that staging a play need not be literal, only logical. I’m not sure that this set up will ultimately work, but we decided to try it out and see.

The woman who’s become such an assertive guide walked the scene briefly with the Porter, and then she gave it a shot. She stumbled on to the stage, sat in a chair, and peppered her speech with drunken hiccups. Though her book mostly covered her face and we have some work to do on the language, there were some very funny moments.

We’re really just getting started on the “rehearsal” phase of our process, and, while all of the feedback was constructive, there was a TON of it. One woman praised the Porter’s approach but said, “I would love to see more action from you.” She was interrupted by another woman who said she hadn’t realized the hiccupping was “fake” and suggested that it not continue to be used. Another woman responded that there was no problem with the hiccups; that the first woman simply hadn’t been paying attention. Another woman said that the hiccups would work, but, “we just don’t need twenty of ’em.” I could see our Porter becoming kind of overwhelmed, so I jumped in to acknowledge that all of this feedback was valuable, and that what I was hearing was that we needed to score the piece so we’d have the ideal number of hiccups in the best possible places, and our Porter wouldn’t have to improvise.

We circled back to the question of how the Porter might move during the scene. We’re fairly limited by the current staging; there isn’t much of anywhere for her to go (that’s part of why I think we’ll ultimately change it). One woman got up to demonstrate ideas she of what that movement could be and what could motivate it.

At that point, our Porter literally covered her eyes with her hand, slumping a bit in her chair. I interrupted (something I generally don’t do) to say, in an upbeat way, that getting this many notes all at once can be overwhelming and that we should cool it for a bit. I then offered to walk the speech with our Porter, and she accepted.

Standing back stage for a moment, I reassured her that she really had done an excellent job—that everyone was trying to be helpful and didn’t realize that it was just too much at once. She nodded and said that she understood. We walked the first part of the piece together, but half way through she stopped, asking if she could take a break and pick it back up another day. Everyone welcomed her to do so with no hesitation, not criticizing her or lingering but working together to form a game plan for what would be next. A couple of women sat with our Porter, quietly reassuring her.

I went back stage to where our Macduff and another woman had been waiting to go on and told them that we were done with the scene for the day. “But I didn’t even get to do my part!” said our Macduff. “You’ll get to do it another day,” I said. “She’s overwhelmed. We pushed too hard. We don’t push hard in this group.” We learned the hard way in our first year or so that if we pushed someone further than she wanted to go, she often left the group rather than expose vulnerability when she didn’t feel safe. Since then, we’ve all agreed to nudge, but not to push; that needs to come from each individual when she’s ready.

We moved on to Act II scene ii, the aftermath of Macbeth’s murder of the King. We decided that the curtain would be closed at the top and open on our Lady Macbeth, who would be pacing. The woman who is in her second year and has been increasingly enthusiastic jumped up to work the curtain and then was cartoonishly excited about opening it as fast as she could. It’s fantastic to see her having so much fun.

As we worked, I overheard a longtime ensemble member, sitting between me and our Porter, quietly encouraging her to stay in the group—not to be discouraged by one lousy day. She said that she struggles with mental illness (sharing detail I’ve never heard her say to the group at large) and that, “Shakespeare always makes me happy. Even when I’m mad. When I come here mad, I leave happy.”

Our Lady Macbeth stopped herself before Macbeth could enter, saying she felt like she had gone too fast and was “stuttering over words.” I encouraged her to slow down and not pressure herself to pace—to move when her thoughts changed and to let the language be percussive. She centered herself as the curtain closed, and when it opened again, what we saw was dynamite.

She had put her hair back, which made her look (and clearly feel) more feminine. She took her time, letting the scene build, and stayed totally focused on our Macbeth when she was on stage. Our Macbeth, in turn, played up a lot of anxiety and clung to Lady Macbeth, who became increasingly horrified.

We burst into applause when they had finished. They said they had felt pretty good, but we had more detail to give them! “You were just a MESS,” said one woman to Lady Macbeth. She also praised Macbeth for committing to what is clearly the right direction for the scene. “You must have read my mind, because that’s exactly what I was picturing,” she said.

The consensus was that what had been so powerful about the scene was the level of anxiety—and that we wanted more of that. I suggested a kind of “keep-away” exercise for Macbeth with the daggers, but the actors decided to simply explore physical distance instead. Fine by me—I’m not the director here!

We tried again, but midway through our Lady Macbeth stopped again, frustrated. “I feel thrown off,” she said. We asked her why, and she said that she had wanted to pull the chair out from under Macbeth but hadn’t felt like she should. “Go with your instinct!” shouted one woman. We all agreed. The woman who’d been on the curtain ran out from back stage and demonstrated how that chair pull could work. She acted out both parts—even throwing herself to the ground and putting her hands up, saying, “Oh my god, crazy lady!” This woman has always done her best, but she’s been reserved and shy in performance. Coaching in this moment, though, I saw a glimmer of real acting. So now I know she can do it. And I’m not gonna let that go—or let her let it go. Stay tuned.

She closed the curtain, and we tried again. This time the scene really picked up. Pulling the chair out from under Macbeth worked great, although our Lady Macbeth laughed afterward that she’d pulled with such intensity that she’d broken a nail. We gushed about how great the scene was already and gave suggestions for moving forward: heighten the paranoia, and don’t back off of those bloody hands. Our Lady Macbeth is itching to try the scene again once she’s off book, but it’ll be a few weeks till then because of another project she’s working on.

While I stepped aside with one woman to talk through some of her long term goals, the others began to stage Act III Scene iii. What they came up with, even in just those 15 minutes, was very cool. The witches circled Macbeth and Banquo, moving in various ways and at many different levels. They swooped in on whomever they were talking to. We need to refine it, but this was a great start.

It was a very productive, positive night, and, given that it was the day after Christmas, that speaks volumes about the focus and drive of this ensemble. We’ve had a lot of “downtime” this month as they’ve dealt with the challenges of the holiday season behind bars, and now they’re eager to move forward.

Friday

 

We began tonight by working Act I Scene ii, in which the Captain and Ross update Duncan on what’s happened on the battlefield. At first the scene was very still, and we brainstormed ways of giving it more movement and visual interest. Our Duncan said she felt like she should be at a bit of a remove from the others, which is completely appropriate. As we found ways of achieving that, another woman playfully admonished her for being quiet. “You talk louder than that in the unit, [name],” she teased. “Use that voice of yours!”

As the ensemble continued to problem solve, I stepped aside with the ensemble member who is going home soon and has a side project so she won’t be so bored. I coached her through the first monologue I pulled for her—Hermione’s “Sir, spare your threats…” from The Winter’s Tale—and she proved to have as much empathy for and insight into the character as always. She also has cracker jack instincts with the language and had begun to memorize it after just a few minutes. She’s going to do some work on her own and then explore it with the group.

While I was working with her, the group slowed down a bit, and it was difficult to convince anyone to get on their feet with a scene. Finally, our Lady Macbeth volunteered, although she was clear with the group that she really wasn’t feeling it. As a result, she pushed hard in her acting and was quite frustrated. I gave her some suggestions, and she tried again, but she still didn’t feel great about her work. “I’m just tired today,” she said. I asked her what she thought would happen if she honored that instead of pushing against it, but she said she really didn’t want to work anymore. “Thank you for being game even though you didn’t feel like it,” I said. “That’s what being a team player is all about,” she replied.

We then explored Act V Scene v (Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…) a bit, with one of our witches standing in for the messenger. She had a lot of fun with it—so much so that we found ourselves focusing on her. “How should I react to him?” she said of Macbeth. “How did you want to react?” asked someone else. She said she had wanted to be nervous, even afraid, and that she also wasn’t sure she wanted to exit with him at the end. Those instincts are fabulous, and we told her so. “So are you playing the messenger?” one woman teased. “Yeah, I’ll do it!” she responded. We all clapped. “I don’t know what I’m getting myself into!” she laughed.

We’re going to come back to this scene on Tuesday to explore that and try some different things with our Macbeth. Her reading tonight was intellectually spot-on, but she’s having trouble portraying her gut interpretation of the scene. We can definitely help her with that.

Season Seven: Week 16

Tuesday
 

We got rather a late start tonight, and we had a long check-in when we did get going. In the midst of that, one of the women told me that a staff member with whom we have a lot of contact mentions Shakespeare every time she sees her, no matter where they are. She tells people what a good actress she is, and how impressed with her work she is. It makes this woman feel really good, and it’s another example of how this type of programming can help to positively affect the culture of the prison—this woman didn’t even know that the staff member knew who she was!

As the group figured out what we should work on, I took aside one ensemble member who has seemed very bored lately. This is her fourth year in the group, and she’s extremely committed, but she’s probably going home before the performance and is kind of lost as to what her purpose is. I asked her, “No three questions, but for real: why are you still coming to Shakespeare? What do you want to get out of it this year?” She cracked a joke and then said that she loves Shakespeare and wants to spend time with the ensemble, but that she doesn’t really know what her goals are. We’ve talked before about her desire to pursue acting when she goes home, so I brought that up and asked if perhaps she’d like to use the rest of her time to do some training—to work on some pieces she could use for auditions and spend a little time on audition technique. She loved that idea. I also suggested that we work on her main “weakness” as an actor: she is incredibly funny and often uses that as sort of a mask when her character is having a moment that is vulnerable. She is absolutely capable of authenticity but fears it a bit. So we’ll work on that, too.

We returned to the ensemble, where people were engaged in one of our favorite improv games. It wasn’t going particularly well—people were doing too much planning ahead, and other ensemble members tried to coach them not to do that. Ultimately, the game became too frustrating, and we moved on.

We then decided to at least read some Shakespeare, so we circled up to look at Act V Scene i. The women who’ve been cast as Lady Macbeth and the Doctor read their parts, and another woman read in for the Gentlewoman. It was a great reading, although Lady Macbeth and Gentlewoman tripped over each other’s lines a bit.

When the scene ended, the Gentlewoman said, “We’re all mixed up!” She said that prior to the CBS Detroit taping, she and Lady Macbeth had practiced reading this scene together, but with these roles reversed. Then, at the last minute, the woman who read Lady Macbeth tonight had insisted that they switch. The latter woman pointed at the other and shouted, “Thou liest!” We all had a big laugh. Then the first woman, who is quite petite, said that she had agreed to switch without a problem: “I decided I was gonna be the bigger person.” The second woman, who is quite tall, burst out laughing and said, “The bigger person!” Another big laugh from the whole ensemble.

Our Lady Macbeth then told us that she’s been writing out “scene breakdowns” – the way she envisions the scenes she’s in and how she should perform them. “I don’t know, what do you think?” she asked us. “Is she really sad, or is there more of her ruthlessness here?” We started to have a casual debate about that. One person suggested that she begin with how the character is feeling, and how she would be feeling in that situation.

That sent up a bit of a red flag for me. The woman who is playing this role has previously shared details of her crime with me that most people in the group (including other facilitators) don’t know, and she’s also shared that she’s dealt (and is dealing) with a lot of guilt that has frequently kept her up at night. She knows she’s grown a lot, but she also knows she’ll never be free of what she’s done.

Because of that, it seems dangerous to me for her to approach the scene in a way that might lead to her leaning on “emotional memory,” an acting technique that actors use to recall their own emotional experiences and put them into a scene (that’s a really simplistic description, but you’ve got the gist). It’s something that can be very touchy if we’re dealing with a traumatic situation, and we definitely are in this case. We keep each other very safe in our ensemble, and part of that is drawing on aspects of our past experiences without reliving them. It’s a difficult balance to strike, and starting with her own feelings could be really traumatic for this woman. This technique can also lead to telling our own stories rather than the characters’.

The person who made the suggestion was not at fault here at all—she doesn’t know the details of the situation and was trying to be helpful. I quickly jumped in, though, to agree that it’s good to think of how we are like our characters, but also how we are not like them, and that it really does work best if we begin with our character’s objective rather than trying to play emotions.

I think what needs to happen here is for me to work individually with our Lady Macbeth, away from the group, to make sure she has the techniques she needs in order to work on the scene safely. I don’t think anyone else should be in on that initial work—she needs to know for certain that she can trust the input she’s getting, and so, at first, it needs to come from someone who knows the details. I’ll be talking with her and the other facilitators about this as soon as I can.

Friday


Tonight we decided to dive into staging the first scene of the play! We began by talking about why Shakespeare begins the play this way. Everyone agreed that he wants us to feel a sense of foreboding and being off balance right away, and that the atmosphere should be eerie, dark, gloomy, and evil; that we need thunder, lighting, and fog. We need to figure out how we accomplish those last three—whether the effects should be organic or more technical—but that wasn’t our focus tonight.

So, where should these witches start? One person suggested they all come from the wings. Another suggested they begin circled up behind the curtain. But then a woman who was in the ensemble last year strongly suggested that the first witch come through the curtain as the others come down the two aisles in the house. We all loved that idea and set about putting it in practice.

What followed was some absolutely incredible collaboration. Nearly everyone contributed ideas and even walked parts of the scene with the people playing those characters. I walked the aisles with those witches a couple of times just because the pacing was difficult to explain, encouraged them not to crouch too low (so they could be seen above people’s heads), and then I pretty much just sat and observed. It was difficult for them to work with their books, so three other ensemble members volunteered to drop in their lines.

The scene was downright amazing. Our first witch came bursting through the curtain, arms out so those curtains actually look like wings, laughing an absolutely chilling “evil” laugh. The others dove in as well, whispering, hissing, laughing, and generally just having a great time. It’s some of the best work I’ve seen at this point in the process. “I think we answered the question you asked, Frannie,” said one woman. “I think the audience is gonna feel what we want them to feel.” Absolutely. I would stage it this way if I were directing it professionally!

I sat to the side with one ensemble member to talk about something specific at that point, but from the corner of my eye I could see the collaboration continuing with very little input from Kyle. It was very exciting.

The ensemble member with whom I spoke was the one playing Lady Macbeth. As I mentioned above, I had some concerns about how we should approach the sleepwalking scene. I explained those to her, and she agreed that we should work it without the rest of the group at first. “It’ll be good to have that one-on-one trust,” she said. This woman has difficulty with the content of another scene in the play, but after having an in-depth talk with a good friend who’s in the ensemble, she’s decided to try to face her discomfort rather than running from it. “It’s hard to face something that hurts so much,” she said. But she knows that facing it in our safe space will be easier than facing it elsewhere.

As the evening progressed, I continued to mostly sit silently to the side, taking notes. The woman who’d had that great idea for the first scene continued to kindly but firmly take charge when needed. She talked through our Macbeth’s entrance for her “If it ’twere done, when ’tis done, then ’twere well it were done quickly…” and then jumped up on stage with her to walk it. Another woman also leapt up to contribute her ideas, all of which the other two took in stride. Others were simultaneously involved in a friendly debate about other staging options. And then I looked over and saw two people working on a scene of theirs in the back of the house, completely unprompted.

When our Macbeth and Lady Macbeth were ready to begin, the woman who’d been taking charge called the group to focus. Our Macbeth had memorized the scene, so she was a little hesitant in certain places, but it was a great read anyway. She ended the soliloquy by sitting on the edge of the stage, so when Lady Macbeth entered she stood on the steps, towering over her. The latter woman is significantly taller than our Macbeth anyway, so this visual was incredibly powerful.

When they had finished, we all told them how great the reading had been. They said it had felt good for them, too, and then I asked everyone what we could do to build on it. One woman began giving notes to our Macbeth, and I was struck by what she was saying. In acting jargon, she was speaking to the character’s prebeat and objective from beat to beat—she didn’t use those words, of course, but she sounded like any professional director giving notes. It was pretty exciting.

Two women had been debating some staging ideas, and things had gotten to a place that wasn’t totally constructive. Kyle had mediated it well, but I hadn’t overheard it in detail and approached one of the women during the next run to see what was going on. This is the woman, about whom I often write, who has such amazing instincts about staging. She had a really creative idea for this scene that we definitely want to try. It isn’t totally textually supported (which was the other woman’s point), but it’s worth a try anyway in case it works or leads us to something that does.

A number of people then left early, so I asked our Macbeth if she wanted to try some “actor stuff” with her soliloquy. We try to stay away from making this an “acting class,” but some of the women really dig that kind of detail, and she’s one of them. We talked about the anxiety Macbeth has at the top of this piece and came up with an image she could place in what Michael Chekhov calls the “ideal center” (literally in the center of your chest, beside your heart). That image was a jackhammer. I also urged her to focus on an objective of getting help from the audience—of trying to get us to tell her not to do it.

Her performance was quite powerful. It petered out toward the end, and we talked about the need to build rather than back off. Before we left, one woman said, “I love this monologue. This is our everyday. We deal with thinking through the right thing all day long… It’s like, after you’ve been in jail, you know you shouldn’t drive. But by day two, you’re like, ‘Where are my keys?’”

Season Seven: Week 15

Tuesday
 

Tonight we embarked on casting as planned! After our check-in, we grabbed chairs and circled up.

As anticipated, most casting was settled on quickly and easily – there was almost no overlap between first choices. Where multiple people were interested in the same role, we worked together to find compromises. The most exciting compromise was between two women who wanted to play the Third Witch. One of them leaves early on Tuesdays for another commitment, so the other one agreed to understudy/role share to avoid holding up rehearsals with absences; this woman is taking on another role that she really wanted as well.

As we talked through the casting of the witches, one woman floated the idea that, rather than casting other people as the apparitions, the witches could be possessed by them and deliver the lines themselves. We were all pretty excited about that. We’ll see how it works in practice!

A number of roles are vacant, as we’ve recently lost some ensemble members. We decided to leave those roles open for now. The plan is to read through the play with our initial cast looking for cuts and places to eliminate or combine characters. Then we’ll add new members, read through the play with them to get them oriented and determine their casting, and go full steam ahead into the next phase of the program.

Two women who had planned to leave the group in January to participate in another asked the rest of the ensemble if they might be able to stay in an “off-stage” capacity, since they would always be able to be present for part of the time before going to their other commitment. We all agreed that that would be great; they can provide valuable input from the audience, stand in for people who are absent, and help out back stage during the show. We’re all very glad that they’ll be able to stay.

Friday

We had fairly low attendance tonight. Several people came briefly to let us know what was going on and then had to leave. Some of this was situational and some was emotional. Others were absent entirely.

But we still do good work with a smaller group! Our focus tonight was on making the first cuts to our script now that most parts have been cast. We decided that we would leave alone the lines of those characters who’ve been cast, but whose actors were absent. But we also decided that it would be fine to cut lines of characters who haven’t been cast for efficiency’s sake; if we add a new person to play a given role who strongly feels that something should be added back in, we can do that then.

The process of making cuts is always more fun for some than others. It took a little while to get our newbies acclimated to our strategy, too. When we make cuts, we don’t approach it in an academic way. Our decision-making process is essentially:

•    Is this information vital for the actor playing the character?
•    Is this information vital to understand the plot?
•    Is there an individual word or phrase here that will make understanding easier for the audience?
•    Does the cut still make sense as a sentence or phrase?
•    If certain lines are tripping an ensemble member up, and that’s why they need to be cut or altered, how do we deal with that creatively?
•    If an ensemble member truly loves certain lines, is it okay to leave them in place? (The answer to that is usually yes.)

At this point, we’re looking for obvious cuts rather than detailed ones – the need for those will be clearer once we’re on our feet. We also came up with a few ideas of how to keep people engaged who don’t enjoy this part of the process, and we’ll start implementing those next week.

One of the women shared with us that she had been watching Jeopardy when “Shakespeare” was a category, and she’d been really excited about it. Another woman said she’d seen it, too. “It feels so cool when you can answer Jeopardy questions, and it’s because of this class,” one of them said.

The woman who is playing Lady Macbeth jokingly said to our Macbeth, “I feel like Lady Macbeth is gonna be the ruler of you.” We all laughed. She continued, “My bunkie – she’s wondering, ‘I wonder if milk’s gonna be the same price when I get out.’ And I’m wondering, “I wonder if [Macbeth] is gonna let me boss her around.”

Season Seven: Week 14

Tuesday

We revisited Act IV scene ii and the ongoing debate about Lady Macduff’s son’s age. We are still divided on this – some really think he’s under the age of 11, and some feel firmly that he’s older. We discussed textual evidence for both interpretations, and then one woman said that she thought he might be a young teen with the mentality of a younger child. I asked her what evidence there was in the text for that – I hadn’t seen any – and she pointed out specific passages that illustrated her point. So it’s there.

One woman likened this interpretation to the child in Mad Max, also humorously offering, “Back then, the life span was, like, thirty… So at ten, you’re, like, half dead.”

Things started to get a bit heated, and I reminded everyone that there are many aspects of this play on which we’re never all going to agree, and this is one. It’s going to be up to the woman who ends up playing the character.

One woman was extremely frustrated with the whole conversation. She came down on the side of him being a young child, and she really didn’t see the merits of the other interpretations. She was sitting next to me, and I leaned over and said, “I can see that you’re upset. This is a little frustrating for me, too, because I agree with you. But there really are openings for other interpretations. And you’ve gotta ask yourself, how much does this matter? Is this a hill worth dying on?” She cracked a little smile, visibly relaxed a bit, and said, “No, it’s not. You’re right.”

In the meantime, I discussed some things aside with a couple of ensemble members. I talked through where we were on casting with a longtime member, who had some great input. Another woman asked me what I thought about a woman who dropped earlier this season due to a conflict rejoining – it turns out her conflict isn’t happening. We are going to put it to the group to see what they think.

At that point, programming for the evening was canceled per the facility, so we ended about an hour early. It was an abrupt end to the meeting, but we’re not in a time crunch right now, so it won’t hurt the work we’re doing.

Friday

It turned out that tonight needed to be a time for sharing and support, as well as some planning, so we never got around to scene work. As previously stated in this blog, though, it’s very typical for us to ditch productivity in favor of accommodating heightened emotions this time of year, so it was still a very positive night.

Our check-in was extremely long. Usually it takes about 15 minutes, and tonight it took 45. The things that were shared were very personal, and I can’t record them here, but I do want you to know that the ensemble was as wonderful as usual about lifting each other up, giving advice where appropriate, being encouraging, and giving whatever space was needed.

Finally, we caved, grabbed chairs, and sat in a circle. We talked about some potential projects for the group, and we talked about casting. It was decided that we would cast the play on Tuesday with whomever is there. The people who were present said they would try to get the word out to everyone else not let them know.

Many people were also concerned about the number of others who have recently dropped. That has happened for a variety of reasons. I realized that most people in the room have only been in the group this year or since last year; the latter was an outlier in that no one left the group until very late in the season – and then it wasn’t very many people.

I asked them to try not to get discouraged – that it’s actually typical for us to lose a number of people over the holidays. I suggested that we go ahead and cast most of the roles and then consider adding a new group of people in January or February. My guess is that that’s what we’ll do. It’s impossible to anticipate who might drop and when, so, even though we have enough people to cast the play right now, there’s no guarantee that everyone will still be around for the performance. Particularly because a few ensemble members want only small roles, it’ll probably be our best bet to add 5-10 more people.

Season Seven: Week 13

Tuesday

We were a little unfocused to begin with tonight, but we got back on track pretty quickly after playing one of our favorite circle games. It got very silly, to the point where nearly everyone in the room was laughing. Then, feeling more relaxed and ready to work, we got back to exploring scenes from the play.

We began with Banquo’s murder. As the women moved through the scene on its feet, it became clear how complicated the scene is even though it’s so brief. More often than not, the facilitators take a somewhat passive role as the ensemble members work out staging challenges, but this scene presented so many challenges and so few obvious textual clues that I jumped up to help before anyone could get too frustrated. And honestly, at this point in the process I feel okay about doing that. There are some women in the ensemble who have an innate knack for staging, but most do not, and seeing examples of how it can be guided helps to spark ideas in them. That leads to confidence in taking over later.

That said, once I nudged them in a certain direction, they took it over and further developed the ideas. I stepped away and simply encouraged rather than continuing to put forth my own ideas.

We moved on to Act III Scene i. Before anyone could even ask who wanted to work, one of the women said, loud and clear, “I wanna be Banquo.” Another woman said, “You just read Banquo.” “No,” said the first woman firmly. “I mean I wanna be Banquo. For real.” It’s really exciting to see her becoming so invested in the play and so assertive about her role in the ensemble. She was in the ensemble last year, and it took awhile for her to come out of her shell. At no point, though, did she assert herself like she’s doing this year. The entire nine-month process is important, and this is why performing at the end is imperative: that’s when things crystallize for most of the women. She behaved very differently after our performances, even in our wrap up, and she came back this fall with fierce dedication, ownership, and enthusiasm.

We read through the scene before putting it on its feet. It went well, but I didn’t realize that the woman reading Banquo had wanted to read through it by herself beforehand because she has trouble processing the language while reading aloud. The others jumped in to encourage her and give her some tips. One woman reminded her to breathe on the punctuation – something we talk about a lot, but that is tough to remember in the moment. Another woman suggested that she also take a moment to breathe whenever things start moving too fast. “Take a breath, then keep going,” she said. A longtime ensemble member recommended working with the language on her own as well. “I like to walk around in the rhythm of the words,” she said.

The woman playing Macbeth absolutely nailed the “To be thus is nothing…” soliloquy. So far she is the only person who’s expressed interest in playing the part. I’m curious about whether people are staying away from it in deference to how much she wants it and how beautifully she performs it or because they truly don’t want to play Macbeth. She’s not domineering in the least – I have no doubt that if someone decides they are interested, it will be a friendly “competition” – but I’m not sure that’s going to happen.

I asked them how the scene had felt. The woman who’d read Lady Macbeth said of Macbeth, “It’s like he’s angry, but he’s also scared.” The woman who’d read Macbeth shook her head and said, “Less angry, more fearful. And yet he’s also king, and that makes him pompous.”

There was some more back and forth, and, while it wasn’t heated, there was clearly some frustration building. “Maybe we can marry what you two are seeing,” I said. “Could we maybe call it ‘intensity’ rather than ‘fear’ or ‘anger?’” They agreed that that word was accurate.

It was a great night. We took the time we needed to get on the same page and then worked collaboratively and effectively. While we are generally not overly “productive” during this season, that’s not the point. Until we get on the other side of the holidays, it’s really about easing tension and stress, and continuing to develop our bonds as an ensemble.

Friday
 

Tonight during check-in, one of our ensemble members read us a poem she had written. It absolutely floored us; several of us had vocal reactions throughout. We enthusiastically praised her when she had finished – the poem was raw and real; gritty and elegant. It was a wonderful moment of coming together for all of us, and, I hope, provided a deeper sense of comfort with the ensemble for the woman who’d read.

We continued our exploration with Act I, Scene iii, in which Macbeth and Banquo meet the witches and are then informed that the prophecy about Macbeth becoming the Thane of Cawdor has come true. The first three women to read the witches decided to begin sitting on the floor, which they envisioned as an open field, just kind of chilling and talking. That was interesting and gave us a very different perspective on the witches’ relationship.

We were in a classroom tonight, so we worked in the round. The woman reading Macbeth said that she had felt strange taking the asides while being so physically close to the others on stage, but another woman said it had worked well because Macbeth had turned her back to the others each time; it had made the separation very clear.

We talked then about how we could build upon what we had just done. One woman envisioned the witches circling Macbeth and taunting him. Her idea gave me the idea that the same effect could be accomplished by having them do the opposite – moving away and making him follow. Another woman said that that would be effective in actually leaving Banquo out. Either approach could tell that story visually.

That led to a further discussion about the witches’ delivery and pacing. Should their three “hails” be delivered slowly? quickly? overlapping? We decided to try it a few different ways.

Our witches began seated again, but they got tongue tied and stopped. I encouraged them to start over and really enjoy themselves. Another woman suggested that they jump up for the story about the sailor and his wife.

“It seemed more real,” one of the witches said afterward. “You guys were feeding off each other,” said another woman. The woman reading Macbeth had also gained some clarity. “He’s weighing the pros and cons,” she said.

We then switched up casting, and I ended up reading one of the witches with two longtime ensemble members. We’ve been working together for years and have a chemistry that definitely enhanced our exploration. And it was so fun to read with them. Two of us began by crawling out from under the tables, and we improvised together very effectively; for example, we all began circling Macbeth at the same time without planning it, and we laughed at many of the same lines.

But, as usual with these two, as soon as the scene was over they focused on the others who’d read. The woman reading Ross had, in a moment of totally unexpected inspiration, read his lines as if she were extremely bored. It had actually seemed painful for her to speak the words. “I loved how you did that, man,” said one of the women who’d read a witch. “It was so freaking dope.”

But the group steered us back toward talking about the witches. “Did I move too much?” asked one. Everyone emphatically said no. “I liked that you were having fun,” said Kyle. The first woman said that she’d fed off of the two of us, particularly my physical commitment. “Do you know how much I was holding back?” I asked her. “With more rehearsal, we could all go even further.” One of the women likened our interpretation to the sisters in Hocus Pocus. She had even decided which sister each of us was.

We then looked at Act I Scene ii, specifically the Captain’s speeches. The woman who first read that part had previously been very focused on Hecate and upset that the entire character might be cut. Kyle had been working with her to identify another role that would satisfy what she wants to accomplish, and this was one of them. She lolled in a chair and delivered her lines clearly and effectively. “It felt great!” she said when the scene was over.

One of the women then jokingly nagged another woman who has been hesitant to read very much thus far – she had quietly told me earlier in the evening that she’s been trying to make room for the others since they have been so excited. But she was convinced to try the Captain tonight. The woman who’d done the convincing turned to me and said, “See, Frannie? I got the skillz.”

And she was FABULOUS. She read that part like a trained actor. There were levels vocally; she relished the language; she painted pictures; she took her time. It got us really revved up.

Throughout the evening, I approached each ensemble member to get an idea of what roles they’re interested in playing. I was intrigued to find that there is no overlap so far in people’s first choices. It’s possible that that will come – there were a few people absent – but it’s equally possible that we could cast this the old-fashioned way: just sitting in a circle and talking it out. That would be so fabulous. We’ll wait and see, but I don’t think casting is far off.