Kill The Grimace

Philippe announced today that François and Nicole had died in a tragic car accident last night, so we danced in groups, and when it was our turn we made a Mélodramatic speech about our deceased lover. I was trying to be big and ‘over-the-top’, as were most of us, and we were all (minus Vicky and Rik) absolutely awful. But it was fun!

~

An interrogation room: An interrogator and a terrorist. The interrogator has a small premonition: I don’t know what it is today, but something is strange. The interrogator soon finds out the first name of the terrorist, and then the surname, and then the terrorist’s birthplace. These are the same as the interrogator’s long-lost child, who he had many years ago with a woman from the enemy country, and never saw again. The father (interrogator) and the child (terrorist) are reunited…

When I got up, with me as the interrogator and Charles as the terrorist, I tried out bigger gestures – to extend and to hold more than usual. I started leaning over a chair, then I looked at the terrorist, then I looked at paradise. Then I stood up, took a few steps, then extended my arm with three fingers out, and said “three hundred people…three hundred lives…all dead.” A good start, but I was tense in my face – not showing my beauty like Philippe had been trying to get us to do. He got me to do exactly the same again, but to kill the grimace – to get the tension out of my face (this is me doing angry ‘intense’ acting). He also got me to move for the audience – with better timing and sensitivity – instead of moving when I want to. The scene was going well, and I was improvising nicely – changing my rhythms, fixed point, light… At one point I was laying down the rules in a calm but intense way: “I don’t want any funny business…any games…any lies…any bullshit. I’m going to ask you questions…and you’re going to answer them. Got it?” And my grimace must have crept back in, so Philippe got me to repeat it - speaking clearly, like a surgeon, and not showing my teeth. The scene had good shape, I was screaming at Charles and had outbursts of violence (threw a chair), as well as great moments of stillness and silence. I felt really free. I was following my impulses. I was alive and present.

Afterwards Philippe said for the story to work we need to see the father really connect the dots that the terrorist is his son. I didn't do this. I wasn’t sure of what happened next after I got his name and his birthplace, so I just went with it. I continued to get the name of the leader. But should have confirmed my suspicion that he really is my son. Oh well.

I asked if it's closer to Mélo? And he said my gestures were there, but I needed more in the voice. "Not enough pathetic and feeling...We need more...But it takes time – like Oedipus." Meaning you have to build into it.

The work I did today was really good for me. Really good. I got another taste of the freedom we constantly strive for as performers. And so I'm happy with myself.

~

“You have to show you…not too much the character.”

“We have to dream around the story and around the character.”

“When an actor is beautiful we believe…and when an actor is une merde we dream to drink a good bottle of wine instead of watching this shitty show.”

Kill the grimace – the People of Paradise can’t see your face anyway!

Walking in half circles is more beautiful because the actor always has his plexus in relation to the audience.

Mélo is good because it has the rules of theatre – fixed point, half circle, be an actor…

~

At the end of class I asked Philippe how big can we go in Mélodrama, as I felt disappointed that as a class we hadn't fully got a taste of it. Philippe said that Andre got there today. It was in the moment where he realised the terrorist was his daughter, and Philippe played this song. And at it's peak, Andre screamed, on his knees, with his arms outstretched. I see that! But how do you be over the top with everything? Maybe you don't have to. Or maybe it's subtle. I'm not sure. It's a pity we didn't risk more to be over the top. I feel like I haven't seen it enough. But that's okay. I got a good feel for it today. For me, it was like - okay, I'm stretching my arm out to point to you - now what happens if I stretch it out a bit further? And a bit further again? And I guess that has to be done with the voice, and movement, and rhythms...

People also asked Philippe what's the difference between Tragedy and Mélodrama. He said "we go to tragedy when the Gods define the destiny, and when the text is beautiful." The text is not beautiful for Mélo. Also, "if you play tragedy you are straighter and taller...Mélodrama is more bent – the pleasure to pretend you are poor." But it’s not closed. Still open.

“The Pleasure To Exaggerate.”

A rough looking vagabond arrives at the house of a bishop at night, and asks if he can spend the night there. The bishop accepts, and asks his daughter to get out their fine silverware to serve the man dinner with. He eats, without saying a word, and then goes to bed. The next morning the vagabond leaves, and takes the fine silverware with him.

Later that morning, there is a loud knock on the bishop's door. The daughter opens it to find the police holding the vagabond. They found the him loose on the streets with some fine silverware that he claims was given to him by the bishop... And the bishop backs up the vagabond's story, convinces the police there's been a mistake, and then gives an extra package of fine silverware candles to the vagabond. Before the vagabond leaves, the priest says "don't forget, I buy your soul...I buy your resurrection." 

• We have to see the vagabond is ashamed.
• We have to see the priest is fantastically generous.

~

I had a go as the vagabond. The first time I did it, I showed the vagabond's shame by looking up at the priest, and then down and away - averting my eyes from him. Philippe got us to do the scene again, but this time he got me to just stand with my head down, in a fixed point, for the entire scene. He said my looking around was playing too much - that it got in the way of the audience's imagination. But when I was completely still, I created a good image - something you can dream around. Because, for example, when the priest says "we were sorry we didn't get to say goodbye to you this morning" and the vagabond does nothing, then we imagine what might be going on inside him. But if I try to show it, then there's no need to dream.

“We imagine many things with a good image.”

“You have to have confidence with an image.”

“You have to feed the audience’s imagination.”

~

I also played one of the policemen.

Philippe got our group to do it in the style of Opera, and then Rock, which was really fun. It immediately made us all more free and playful. The fear of being bad floats away! Singing the text also helps with following a good impulse. Philippe then got us to switch from singing to normal speech when he beat the drum, and to try and keep the same impulse. It helped me!

~

I had a go at the bishop too.

I did an alright job of it, and then Philippe got me to it again, but play a fast positive rhythm - to walk around the room and in a lying-to-police kind of voice: "Ohhh Maria! We're so glad you returned! We had such a lovely dinner with you last night! And then we forgot to give you one more gift!" He also got me to really play super-generous bishop. The rhythm helped create a difference between the police and the vagabond. And allowed me to really 'have a scene'.

~

“A vagabond is never nasty in a Mélodrama.”

“You walk half circle not because you are a crab! It’s because we have to see your face!”

“If you have impulse to play, you are not boring. But if you have impulse falling down, you are boring.” = Explains my Q from yesterday.

~

At the end of class Philippe noted that it was interesting that in this workshop as a class we haven't really got to Mélodrama. Nobody has really gone over the top - we've stayed in the realm of normal theatre. He said it wasn't a criticism, it's just what happened. To get there, we need “the pleasure to exaggerate”. It kind of bugs me because I really would love to go there and 'get' Mélodrama. I think I have tried to exaggerate, but often feel held back by the thought that I'll push, or that I need to be subtle. But I know I would love to be really big and over the top. And that it's possible to do this with subtlety and without pushing. Tomorrow is the last day to play with the form (as Friday we'll be showing)...so my goal is to go there tomorrow!! Even if it's ridiculous!!

“If It’s Good, We Are Ready To Cry.”

Today we did a scene in which a man/woman is lead to their room at the top of a cheap hotel by the hotel concierge. Once the concierge has left, the man/woman then watches their lover killed by guillotine outside on the street, through the window of the hotel room. Then he/she says a short speech (17 words maximum!) for their lover.

The exercise was an opportunity to do something to make us dream around you, to make us cry for you. To be open and beautiful – to give a lot.

I had a go as the hotel concierge with Rocio playing the guillotine-watching woman. I took a risk by being a bit loud and obnoxious – oblivious to the woman’s solemn energy. “So this is the room…there’s the toilet, there’s the bed (sorry about the springs). Oh! And surprise, surprise! Today there’s a complementary show for you outside. A guillotine death! Don’t know who it is, but it should be a good show!” I also came back on after hearing Rocio scream: “Are you alright? It’s a bit rough isn’t it?” I thought this could help the scene – to play opposite – as it gives the woman something to play against. I did it, and it seemed to work – the audience liked me. But I was a bit concerned I was destroying the integrity of the scene. Philippe gave me no feedback, so I assume that means it wasn’t bad (or else he’d definitely let me know). I think I lacked a bit of an ‘actor from Monsieur Dumas’ quality, but it felt good to take a risk and commit to it.

Later I had a go at the looking-out-the-window role. Philippe had just spoken about how you don’t have to do a lot to make us dream around you, and he demonstrated this by getting Vicky (aka Dicky) to do just three things. I made the choice to be simple and do very little to. After the concierge (Sophia) had left, I looked out the window, then turned and walked away, stopped and returned, then dropped the keys I’d been given, made a deep sad sound with my voice, and then said a speech.

So: 1) turn away 2) drop keys 3) deep voice sound

I was light – I didn’t push, but I didn’t ignite the imagination. “Myself, I didn’t receive anything.” I suppose this is because although I did three simple things, I did them in a mechanical way – I didn’t ‘fill the vessel’. Also, my timing would have been off – I wasn’t listening to the audience well enough. And also, I didn’t ‘give enough’ - I didn’t put my ‘guts on the table’. It’s a super fine line though. Because the other way I could have gone was to scream for my lover through the window, and get passionate and emotional. But this probably would come across as tense, pushed, and constipated. But what I did was definitely not enough.

~

"In a Mélo, women cry, not men. The men cry inside."

"There is no recipe."

"If it's good, we are ready to cry."

~

Imagination: Don't do too much. Don't do too little.

"You have to be better than my imagination as an actor. Otherwise I stay with my imagination and don't go to the show."

"If you have wonderful timing, you do two beautiful images...POFF! We imagine. And we remember you."

"If you do something when we are waiting for it...POFF! We love you."

"If we need something, and you give something at that exact moment...POFF! There is something...Otherwise there is nothing."

"You have to be concentrated on the timing with the audience." [Not something horrible]

"It's necessary to have a good rhythm in relation to the audience."

~

Beauty:

"Was the character beautiful? Or a big constipation crisis?"

"We don't see the actor...you eat yourself."

"Every actor is beautiful...and we look at them because they are beautiful."

Beauty: It doesn't mean you have to look like Brigittee Bardot. But you have to have the fun of a teenager with a game.

"An actor, he is free. He has a face like when he was 8 years old."

"The pleasure of the game gives a special light, and an actor always has this special game in his head."

"The first job is to be beautiful...a to be beautiful everyday...But if you are not beautiful, we never dream around you."

"I want to be beautiful" will help you to discover. But "I want to be good" will not.

~

Freedom:

"Every time we fight to be more free tomorrow...it's the fight of everybody."

"You need to give your freedom to everything."

"Everyday it's a fight - to be open and beautiful - and not nyah nyah nyah. Everyday you have to do that."

~

"But it's not a piece of cake."

It's a fine line...

~

I took two clear calculated risks today and it felt good. It felt good because I was testing something. I was testing whether the choice I made to play was good or bad – the choice, not me – so my ego was removed from my work. One choice worked, another didn’t, and I’m still sane afterwards. A better way to approach this work!

Sex Maniac Monday

I was a bit of a sex maniac in class today! From 'Samuel Says' when I asked for a kiss in a kind of rapist voice (spurred by news that a certain friend made love in the weekend), to when I played the part of the guy who decides to pay for sex after not having sex for years (I forgot the detail that he's ASHAMED!), right to the final minutes of class when Thomas (Austria) and I did a sexy seduction dance for Nonika and then her and I did the scene in which the man and prostitute (actually brother and sister) meet in a private room.

Possibly a sign that I haven't got any lately...!

But it must have helped too, because I had a lot of fun today. I was light and silly and playful and carefree. A really good space to work in!

~

We started class with the opportunity to try out any of the Mélos we've done so far. Catarina got up wanting to do the mentally retarded person in love scene, so I got up and played the handsome man she's in love with. But in playing the nice guy, I forgot about a Mélodramatic deep voice. "It's just TV...not actor from Monsieur Dumas". Even when playing the nice guy? "Always!"

We then did a death row kind of thing: "Ready! Aim! Fire!" You have to show/do something beautiful before "Fire!" or else you're dead. Ridiculously difficult! Practically impossible!

Finally, groups of 5 sat on chairs and Philippe played music. If you felt it was good for you - your song - then you could stand, sing, say a poem, and then do a Mélodrama scene from that place.

"We don't think you are miserable." - Not too happy when singing...

"You want to be too much alone, and alone you will have a big flop." - Listen to our friends on stage, to the whispers in the audience, to the person opening their packet of sweets.

~

This week for Auto-Course we are making our own Mélodramas from stories we've found in the newspaper. I heard about this horrible story of a woman in Libya who has spoken out about being raped by 15 officials, and the violent actions that took place to silence her.

And it looks like we're going to make a Mélodrama from her story.

Grave-Yard Joy

Had my first grave-yard shift work-weekend at Cafe Oz. 

It was fun...but working till 6am after a week at school is a tiring affair! I don't know if I'll stay much longer. Maybe just over the holidays coming up. It kills my social life - whilst I'm working my friends are partying - and whilst I'm sleeping my friends are exploring Paris. So that's the major downfall of the job. But the hours are long (but no breaks!...work conditions in France are awful) which means a good pay check each night.

On Sunday I went to school for the tech rehearsal of the second year's Bouffon showing - I've been asked to do the lighting for it. Thrown in the deep end here, but I did fine, and it will be cool to watch their process during the week (as they show every night).

Then came home, cooked a TV dinner (boil in bag for 20mins) and watched Mystery Team, a feature length film made by the YouTube comedy group 'Derrick Comedy' who caught my attention a few years ago with their video Bro Rape.

It was a fun film. Great job considering the resources they would have likely had. And just cool to see people making the kind of work they want to make. 

"Sugar-Mélodrama."

Showing day today again. Man it goes fast! It feels like it was 'Showing day' only yesterday.

This week's Mélo was about a parent and child stuck in a lighthouse because there is a ferocious storm outside. They have very little water left, and the child is sick...delusional sick. The child becomes sicker and sicker and at one pivotal point the child attempts to bite their parent. This is when the parent remembers many kids from the village had contracted rabies from a dog, and the only way to stop the rabies was to kill them. The parent clicks that their child has rabies too, and comes to the conclusion that they will have to kill their own child - which eventually happens - and when the child dies, the storm stops. End.

I worked as a director this week, with Andre as the father and Maria as the daughter. We worked well together throughout the week, mostly walking it through and plotting out what needs to happen when, and then this morning we put it all together. I felt like we'd done a good job structuring the play, making each scene/moment have a clear purpose and different rhythm. We also made the choice to take some risks and perform our piece a bit grander - with bigger gestures and more physicality, and more poetic language.

As a director I felt like I had a nice calm demeanour, and a good sense of how to shape the piece - particularly with rhythms. Looking back now I would have liked to create an environment in which my actors could have improvised like we do in class, and then we could have gone back and tightened things up. But we didn't fully get to that until the last day. Instead we said "I'll say something like this here" when really, like we do with Philippe, we could have just tried to make a scene. I think more pressure was needed to get there. Also, I would have liked to have more time to work on the actors' performances, but we had a script and staging to work out, which took precedent over performance work. And actually, I was happy with what Andre and Maria were doing. In this process I wasn't much of an actor's director, and I understand why others aren't too now! There are lots of other things to consider and in a way it's the actor's job to act. But of course I gave acting directions too - but it is hard to be articulate!

The performance of the piece was as we had rehearsed, but perhaps lacked a bit of the tension I felt we had in rehearsals. We had a false start, because I was using the drum to represent thunder, and Philippe found this distracting. So we had to change - we ended up flagging sound altogether, apart from opening with the sound of recorded thunder. But in our proper performance about a third of the way in Philippe stopped the scene and got Andre to change the way he was performing - more like the tough Aussie bloke Philippe had led him to previously. And then that was it. He stopped it because it was a bit boring I guess, and that's fine, but it was annoying because he stopped it just before a big change, and from then on was a lot of action. But still - if it's boring, it's boring, and an audience will leave not knowing/caring what they've missed. Philippe said our piece was like "Sugar-Mélodrama." We had tried to be grander and more poetic with the language, particularly with Andre's doom-speeches, but Philippe said it was "bla bla bla boring." Later I asked if text in Mélodrama can ever be beautiful? And he said no. It can be good, but not beautiful. Okay. Also Philippe said Andre looked at the People of Paris all the time, instead of now and then for effect. This is something I hadn't noticed, as I figured Andre's character was looking out a window. But I guess now that I should have led him to lower his view, or change up where he looks for effect.

It was just really frustrating to have worked hard (we put a lot of thought and effort into it) on a piece showing what we think Mélodrama could be, and then to have it cut short. But we still did the work, and learnt from it, and enjoyed it. So that's something.

At the end of class Philippe reiterated that Mélodrama is more a form for the actor than the writer. "It's actor."

"It's more for acting - If your story is not so good but the actor takes a risk, it's okay."

"It's not spaghetti over-cooked. It's not ohh ohhh oohh." It has balls.

"The Audience Love It When You Break The Rhythm."

Philippe announced that he received a phone call from Madame Dumas earlier today, and unfortunately Monsieur Dumas passed away this morning at 4:07AM. His last words were "you have to put your heart...your guts...on the...on the..." and then he died. So today was for him.

We could choose any Mélo we wanted to do today and either perform it normally, or as a nightmare. 

I got up with Steph, who wanted to do the scene I was interested in too - the one in which a man (ex-lover) comes to a bar where a woman (ex-lover) is working. He orders a drink, but nothing more is ever said. It's never acknowledged anything happened between them. We did it as a nightmare - with drumming by Thomas. I was working on coming on with a different rhythm, and changing/breaking the rhythm.

"The audience love it when you break the rhythm."

Our scene had quite a sexual feeling about it - as if in the nightmare we were reliving passionate moments from before. I took a few risks, letting it go in this direction - which could have gone badly - but it seemed to work. But then Philippe started picking on Steph, making her apologise for being so boring, and got her to tell me to leave her because she was so boring. This made Steph crack up a lot, and our scene started drifting away from Mélodrama quickly. When I had my moments Philippe got me to speak in a deep deep voice, through the teeth, and he reminded me when it's my turn to have my scene I have to change the rhythm. But the exercise really came to be for Steph, which was fine. I was a bit confused at the end to how we went, or what just happened (!) but Philippe said "not so bad" so I guess that's that...?

"Sometimes to find something sensitive you can't be loud."

A few others had a go at nightmares. Emma had a wonderful moment after Philippe had killed her and told her to leave the stage, and she said "fuck you" to him (Philippe had said earlier that sometimes it can be a great thing to say to a teacher). It wasn't nasty. We could see she was doing it as an exploration, as a way of claiming her place on the stage. Philippe was strict with her (she was already quite upset and frustrated) and eventually he got her to choose her two close friends (David and Rocio) to come up on stage with her. Soon she was tall and light and open and beautiful. It wasn't that easy - it never is - it's a super fine line - but she had moments of it and we loved her. She was very brave and vulnerable with us. Philippe said she needs to be in this place all the time.

He spoke at the end of class about how when he is strict and says "Thank you, good bye" and asks somebody to leave the stage "many times there's a miracle." When a student leaves and then comes back on stage "something has changed...it's easier to see you." He said it's hard to know exactly why, but often you lose the will to be good, you let go, and thus you're lighter and more sensitive.

Showing day again tomorrow. He said we can do whatever we want really, and he'll follow and try and help us to make it work. "Me, I look and try to discover where you want to go."

"You Have To Show Your Guts!"

Today we started again by dancing in couples. I danced with Sophia and we were quickly called 'the Drug couple' (due to our tentative complicité and tired appearance). 

We were threatened to be killed a few times, and so I started taking risks and being a bit silly with it - at one point, in a tango inspired moment I got down on one knee and slapped my thigh. Even with that, Philippe said "goodbye" to us...but the crowd moaned for more, and we got another chance.

"We love him because he tries to save the show."

Then we had a go at improvising Mélodrama scenes together. I was playing with extending my body and exaggerating gestures, but in doing it lost my balance a bit! Andre was also being grander with his body and gestures today and it was really working. It works. And it's beautiful.

"For every tiny thing it has to be big and beautiful and light."

~

"Did you think Ah! It's my scene! It's my scene! For minutes just for me!...?"

If the son says "Mum! I'm so hungry!" we need to see that the mother is ashamed, "not bla bla bla."

"You have to show your guts!"

~

Andre also had a go at the scene we did yesterday, as the old man, and he really started to get it. The moment when he saw the medallion on the young lawyer's table was big and dramatic, stretched out - h a v i n g   a   s c e n e - and beautiful. Philippe got him to do it as an old Australian farmer, which gave it something else. There were moments of extreme - loud running - and others of soft and gentle - sliding in tears down onto a chair. It really plucked emotional strings in us.

~

Later, Philippe got Andre to do a nightmare of the father/lawyer scene, as if he was seeing every important moment in his life before he dies. So we see him abandoning his son, begging his landlord, meeting his new son, feeling ashamed etc etc - it doesn't have to be literal. 

"Don't start too strong...You listen to us, and if we love you, little by little you start to find freedom."

Andre really found it today. It was fantastic. We loved him. He was light and sensitive, but big and extreme. He used his body and found great gestures. You could see him actively exploring things with his voice and body too: Can Mélodrama be like this? Really inspiring. At the end Philippe said "It's perfect...It's very good..It's Mélo...It's exactly what we are looking for."

Later on I had a go, and did a nightmare version of the Patriotic Mélodrama. I played the father announcing great news, and then hearing horrible news and reacting. Making a patriotic speech and then hearing more horrible news. Then eventually going to war himself and seeing horrible things. Then being shot and slowly dying.

"Not too bad...You could listen to the music more. You were not ready to be helped by the music."

In a way, I did good here. But I wasn't so happy with myself. I rushed a bit. Went into survival mode slightly (hoping not to be killed) when really I could have grounded myself more and dropped into each moment. And listened to the audience, and Thomas on the drums, much more.

I also feel like I went out more to meet the level Andre had set than to learn something about the form. I tried to meet the requirements, rather than play. A competitive streak coming out of me. I guess I watched Andre and thought "I can do that too" and wanted to have a go. But art isn't a competition...And that's why I left feeling slightly disappointed with myself...But I did put my guts on the table. 

Also, as I died from being shot, I coughed too. Philippe asked me "Why did you cough?" and went on to say you cough because you've got tuberculosis, not because you've been shot. We can't have a death because you've been shot and you have tuberculosis!

At the end of class Philippe talked about how "Sometimes we get the point" (in relation to Andre's work) and said it's so subtle - the line between good and bad. In a way you're either perfect or your terrible. It's one millimetre. And there is joy for actors in taking the risk riding that tightrope...

~

After class we had drinks at the park (the sun's out till about 7.30pm now) for Claire de Canada's birthday, then Andre, Anna, Rik, Catarina and I went and saw a production of Othello directed by Thomas Ostermeier from Schaubühne am Lehniner Platz, Berlin.

It was fantastic! Full of life. Very surprising and unique.

 A bit like a rock concert (it had a live band). 

The stage was filled with water, which was a moment of absolute magic when the actors entered and stepped on what I thought was a shiny black stage...but then the stage rippled!

Iago was awesome. Naughty. Nasty yet lovable.

They also had a spot at the front of the stage that was much deeper (most of it was mid-shin depth) which actors fell into sometimes. Whoops! They've disappeared! 

Interesting choice to have a white Othello. It was in German with French subtitles, but it was clear that they had replaced the word 'moor' with 'The Black'. 

Amazing use of video projections, music, and found-technology (microphone, torch, megaphone...). 

Really glad I went to this. Haven't seen some theatre in a while, and this was top top quality. The biggest thing I took away from this again was 'magic'. It's so essential for the theatre. It lifts us out of the ordinary and into the imagination. As soon as the actors stepped on to the stage and it rippled, I gasped, and I my imagination was ready to go with them. Ah!

"Perhaps It Would Be Fantastic For You To Go Over The Top..."

I had a great class today! We started dancing in partners, and we were killed off if we were awful.

"If you think never will this couple fuck, the complicité is bad."

 I danced with Anna and we had lots of fun together - great complicité - and we were picked to do the next exercise...which was to make up a Mélodrama scene - playing as if we were actors from Monsieur Dumas' school at a party. When the music plays we dance, when the music fades we improvise a scene together, when the music comes back on we dance again, and when it fades we improvise something else.

Well we did lots of scenes! We were having a great time dancing, and we kept that feeling when we were acting (which is not easy!). We did a few different kind of broken-love scenes, one of Jean Valjean returning to find Cosette has changed and betrayed him, and one in which I went off to war and then returned broken, and eventually died.

Philippe said we had great complicité and that the audience love us. He said when I came back after going to war (I took a risk and returned in crutches) he didn't like it so much, because my body was bent (the crutch was too small...) and as I died I gave my weight to Anna. Even when dying I need to remain light and graceful!

It was fantastic! Felt really great - free and full of pleasure. It's wonderful to work with a power-house actress like Anna too - it feels like acting with her lifts my work. This is because she really commits to the work and has such a strong presence. But good work for me too, being with another actor and playing and discovering together. Bliss.

~

"You have to look for your scene as an actor."

Effects: "Look left! Look right! Look at your shoes! ... Look left! Look right! Look at the desk! ... Look at the People of Paris! ... Back to the desk!"

Fixed point gives dignity: "You move for your audience."

Westerns are good Mélodramas.

Kabuki and Noh Theatre are great for Fixed Points.

Opera is very good for Mélodramatic gestures and movement. Philippe gave some actors the option to perform their scenes in the form of Opera if they wanted - which was fun to watch. It lifts us out of reality. Everything becomes bigger. Grander.

~

For the rest of class we did another scene from a Mélodrama we started last week (although it was brief so I don't think I wrote about it). Basically, the first part shows a poor mother who abandons her child outside a church at Christmas time, because she can't support the child. She wishes it a better a life, and puts a medallion around the child's neck, and leaves. We hear passionate Christmas carols sung as the stage blacks out (and the baby is taken away), and then we see the mother come back as she's decided she doesn't want to abandon him - but it's too late - he's gone.

The next part is many years later, set in a young lawyers office. 

The mother, now old, comes to a lawyer to get help as her landlord has threatened to up the rent and she can't pay it - and if the rent goes up then she'll be on the street. The lawyer says he will go out the back to check some books to see if there is something he can do to help. And whilst he is out the back the mother goes to the desk and sees the medallion she put around her son's neck. The lawyer is her son! Should she tell him? Should she say nothing? The son comes back in the room and says yes he can help her. She thanks him, and looks like she is going to tell him, but she doesn't. She goes to leave, is maybe going to say something, but doesn't. Then leaves, hesitates, is she going to say something? No. She can't do it. And she leaves. The lawyer then says "what a nice lady" and the curtain falls. END.

Effects are important: When the mother enters, the lawyer and mother need to look at each other, then the People of Paris, three times. Phone in the message: something is up!

The audience wants the mother to say something desperately. Enjoy this tease: "The audience wants something and the actor has fun to play opposite."

The lawyer role requires real subtlety. He only works for the poor. Never the rich!

"If you are pretentious we don't love you."

"He is a lawyer, but he doesn't have the misery behind him."

I did a scene with Rocio as the mother. I felt good about my ability to take the stage and be watchable - setting up the scene. A while ago I couldn't do this so well. But today was better. But after our scene was cut short Philippe said "We didn't see so much nice boy" and I also reentered to early - cutting Rocio's realisation of the medallion short. But that's because I couldn't see or hear! And we're improvising...

Philippe worked with Rocio on the moment in which she explains her desperate situation. He got her to speak slowly at first, and then turn her body more towards the audience and talk in a loud whisper, then give a quick look at the lawyer then up to the People of Paris, then put her head down and pretend to cry whilst talking really fast, and then rise her head to show her face. "You have to give. To show a lot of images."

~

At the end of class Philippe asked Rik (from Singapore) to tell us the story of how he got his name (as he has a really interesting story about how he got his new name). Then he asked Rik to perform it as a Mélodrama, and use Beijing Opera as a form too. He did a nice job - really committing to it - and Thomas assisted with a drum soundtrack which was cool. Philippe spoke afterwards about us risking to go over the top. 

"Perhaps it would be fantastic for you to go over the top...even if you are ridiculous...to discover where the limits are."

He said he didn't understand why we aren't jumping to get up on stage (in general, the class is pretty hesitant to get up). He said a flop is nothing. You try something, and if it doesn't work you learn something. And if something works, it may open many doors. 

And he spoke about how we are here to discover something wonderful about ourselves that we can sell for a lot of money. And what a great thing it is to spend a year or two to do that. Too true. :)

Les Mis Monday

We started off class by pretending to die. None of us really got it! "Did you see one artistic? Or are they all ugly?"

~

For the rest of class we did a scene from Victor Hugo's Les Misérables. 

The one in which Jean Valjean enters the inn of the nasty couple that have been looking after Cosette, checks out the situation, and eventually pays for Cosette to leave there forever and join him = the first time she has ever felt truly safe in her life.

It was a kind of nit-picky scene, complicated and requiring specific performances from each character. I'm not familiar with the book (although I'm going to read it now..) so I held off for a while, but eventually gave it a go.

Basically there's a nasty man and woman ("anything they could take, they take"), who are horrible to Cosette - a young girl who is working there, and then Jean Valjean is a figure of justice: "the John Wayne of the time."

~

"You have to show something innocent."

"Don't forget nobody is communist in Mélodrama. They have the destiny of poor people and they will be poor all their life."

"To play bla bla bla - it doesn't work...You need silence...You are just speaking but there is no game between the actors."

~ 

I had a go as Jean Valjean but was "not enough justice" and "too small." 

I was on "the same level" as the nasty characters, when I needed to be above them. With this character, we need to see that he's seen what he needs to see, and that he's waiting to play his cards at the right time.

I also had a go at the nasty man at the end of class, and it was BAD! Haha!

~

It's starting to get warmer and sunnier in Paris now, which is wonderful! For Auto-Course my group (I'm directing Andre and Maria) rehearsed out in the sun at the park down the road. And after class we all went for a drink at the park. Daylight savings is coming very soon too. Bring on summer!

Man Up, Mate!

Friday night: Went to Rik and Ling’s place for a Malaysian food extravaganza! Ling made a Chicken & Potato curry, a fresh fried vegetable dish, and my personal favourite…Mee Goreng! Forget Satay Kingdom! Bring on Ling Palace!

Saturday day: Katy had mentioned a few weeks ago that she was going to be teaching a Clown workshop to little kids, and I had said if she needs any help I’d love to come along. Well today we did the workshop! It was really fun. I really did nothing – I just joined in on the games and held the hand of a particularly shy young girl. The kids all spoke English. It was setup by one of Katy’s friends who runs a kids theatre group at The American Church.



It got me thinking about how setting up a school like this back home could be a great little money earner on the side. A Little Bit Silly School of Performing Arts?

Saturday night: I had my three hour job trial at Café Oz tonight…

...except it went for eight hours! I didn’t leave the bar till 2.30am. But it was GREAT! I was a real-life bartender all night. Making Mojitos, serving pints, and pouring shots all night. I went in thinking I won’t want the job (because the pay is below average and the hours are horrific!) and that I’d just do the trial for fun…But I think I’m hooked. I had a lot of fun, the people were really friendly, and I can’t help but feel super cool being a bartender! The bar is really cool too. Very popular, good music, fun atmosphere! Last night was a Japanese theme as they were fundraising for Japan, so we were all dressed either as Ninjas or ‘Hello Kitty’ Japanese girls.

I’ve been offered the job, and I think I’m going to take it. Despite the negatives, I’ll meet new people, improve my French (last night was interesting at times on that note), make some cash, and become a pro at making lots of yummy drinks.

Sunday: Today I emailed the three venues waiting on my response for Edinburgh saying that I’ve decided not to attend this year’s festival after all. I came to this decision over the last two weeks. The amount of money required was paralyzing to say the least, but I also was burning out with all the work I was doing on it. I’ve learnt that having a support team of people is really important (I was doing everything myself), and also, it’s good to focus on one big thing at a time (I keep learning this particular lesson over and over again). Right now I’m doing intensive training at École Philippe Gaulier, and that is enough. If I was to do Edinburgh this year, the quality of my experience at school, my holiday with Amanda afterwards, and my season of WANNABE, would have been lowered. So I’m really happy (and relieved with this decision). I still would like to do the show next year at Edinburgh, so now I know what I’m in for. But we’ll see.

I also finished the book I’ve been reading: Effortless Mastery – Liberating the Master Musician Within by Kenny Werner. I feel like a snob, but I’ve been a bit skeptical of it from the start because I have no idea who Kenny Werner is, and neither does Thomas (a musician, who gave me the book). So there’s a part of me that goes “Who are you and why should I care what you have to say?” Unfair, perhaps. Anyone, whether they are ‘known’ or not, has the potential to share something valid and useful. I’m sure Kenny would be saying “Who is Philippe Gaulier and why should I care about what he has to say?” Or you, reader of this blog, could be saying “Who is Guy Langford and why should I care about what he has to say?” Fair point.

You care about what I have to say because my learning process could help you too. Well, that in fact is basically what Effortless Mastery is. It’s a book full of Werner’s discoveries about learning. I think he had some good things to say, particularly about the ego and removing your self from your work. But also about getting out of the way of yourself and letting the music play through you - getting into an effortless zone. He uses meditation and seems to get a lot of inspiration from spiritual leaders, which doesn’t resonate so much with me, but essentially the idea of finding a way to be free, does.

Sunday night: Went to Bistrot du Marche, Montreuil where they served coucous and chicken dinners for everyone! FREE! The place is amazing. Great live gypsy-esque music every Sunday night. We've been before, and we'll go again!

“Nobody Has Taken The Decision To Be An Actor.”

Auto-Course showing day today. Throughout this week we have been working on a Patriotic Mélodrama. The play starts with a family who get a letter from their son who is at war. It says he is safe and doing well, and that he has earned himself a medal for his bravery. But then there is a knock on the door and the Mayor arrives with the son’s medal and announces he has died in battle. The family react, the father gives a patriotic speech, then the son announces he will go to war and leaves. Time passes. The mayor returns and announces that son has died too. Family reacts, father gives patriotic speech... Then the daughter announces she will go to work as a nurse at war and goes. Time passes. The mayor returns and announces the daughter has died too. Family reacts, father gives patriotic speech… Then the mother announces she will go and be a nurse too, the father doesn’t stop her – she goes. Time passes, the mayor returns (she’s died too), the father gives a patriotic speech then goes to war himself. Then in the final scene, all the family come back on stage, all bloodied up as if they’ve died in war, and they sing a patriotic song, waving a flag.

A Patriotic Mélodrama. These were done a lot during WWI apparently.

My group was Maria (mother), Katy (daughter), Australian Tom (son), Austrian Thomas (Mayor) and me (father). There were 5 groups - we performed first.

We ended up performing the whole thing we had written and rehearsed. About half an hours worth of stage time! In a way we were lucky, because Philippe was being nice and letting everyone show the entirety of what they'd made, when usually he would have killed us much earlier.

But we did it, and had many good moments. Some lightness in there, everybody had their scene. When Maria and I spoke, the audience stopped laughing, which I thought was a good sign that we are taking space and changing the atmosphere.

Afterwards, in Philippe's critique, he said “nobody has taken the decision to be an actor.” To be beautiful…effects…to change the rhythm…to surprise. And he said we didn't love any of the actors enough. "They [the family] can die…We don’t care.”

To me he said: “I don’t say you’re not an actor, but you don’t make the decision today.” I tried to be an actor, to have my scene. But I guess I didn't fully ever ground myself and be with the audience. I was rushing a bit, and trying harder than I needed to.

“But they did it…Not so bad.”

That's right - we did do it! I was really happy with what we achieved in the time that we had. It was a big piece of work...a five act play! And whilst there lacked something special in the performance of it, the structural writing was clear and sound. And the something special would have come with more rehearsal time (we didn't get a chance to get to much specifics). I've also learnt that writing as a group slows things down, and see now that perhaps if we'd got onto our feet a day earlier we would have had the time to get to specifics. But again, for our situation (including various days with group members missing - Twyla Tharp was right, these things do happen!) we did well.

~

Philippe also said to me my voice is “Too much boh boh boh, not enough grrr [through the teeth].”

Philippe plays this man's speeches (André Malraux) as an example of what kind of voice we are going for. As Andre Jewson said, it’s lyrical. It’s as if lines of text are almost sung. Consonants are chewed on, ‘R’s are rolled, pitch and volume crescendos and decrescendos.

~

An actor should love saying their beautiful words: “We didn’t think the actor loves the text.”

~

I ended up taking quite a leadership role in this week’s Auto-Course. My group’s dynamic was supportive and positive, but tentative, so I started to nudge us along. This leader role grew to the point where I was directing in the final rehearsal. Throughout the process I was always worried that people weren’t happy to follow me. I guess because there was no formal decision to put me in a leader position. I sought reassurance about this issue a few times during the process, and it turned out that people were indeed happy to follow me. So that’s a good lesson for me: don’t doubt my ability to lead. I enjoyed directing too – I feel like I’m developing a good practical understanding of dramaturgy. i.e. You’re in major here, he’s in minor. This is your game, this is hers. You need to play this, and you need to play that (opposite)…for the conflict to work best.

Next week there is a two-hander scene, and Philippe has said there has to be a director. So I’m going to give it a go, and try to back myself as a leader.

Passionate & Pathetic

We did a Mélodrama today in which a mother and father are sitting at a dinner table, the mother mentions the fact that she can't stop thinking about their son/daughter (who ran away 15 years ago and never sent a word). 

The father snaps telling the mother to never utter that name in his house again and leaves (although we see that he feels pain from the situation). Then there is a knock on the door, the mother goes to open it, and it's the son/daughter. There is a dramatic reunion between him/her and the mother, then the son/daughter announces that they have come to say that they are going to die in the next few days (as they have tuberculosis, or AIDS, or something) and that they wanted to die back home. The father reenters to find the son/daughter, there is a scene, and the son/daughter is banished.

I got up and did the scene as the father, with Rocio as the mother, and Nonika as the runaway daughter. We went after the break, just after Philippe had told us all for Mélodrama we needed to be more passionate. So I went for passionate! Rocio and I had good complicité - we do - we play well together. Our scene started dramatically, with us avoiding each other's stare at the dinner table. And then Rocio had a scene about how she misses her daughter. And then I had a scene in which I told her never to mention the name of our daughter ever again. I went big, threatening, powerful - trying to find this rich, deep 'actor's voice'. I ended up really going for it in the scene - as if the father had lost it. I went full on, and although it was possibly a bit pushed, for the scale of the scene it worked. Then Nonika came on and the scene started to die, I came on to the warning sound of 'boring-clicks' and took major, then eventually went crazy again (haha) forcing our daughter to leave. When Philippe critiqued me he said "he wakes us up", but said I could have more 'effects'.

Afterwards he got Rocio and I to repeat the opening scene and he worked with us a bit (he works with those who give, it seems). I worked on looking to the fifth gallery more often, as I hadn't done that the last time. It came to my time to be in major - I stood up and said never to mention the name of our daughter in this house again, with my arm stretched out pointing at Rocio across the room. He paused me, and got me to keep my arm outstretched, but to slowly walk backwards as I said my text. Then after a bit of walking backwards, lower my arm slowly, and drop my head, and say my text quietly to myself (but so the audience could hear it). Then later, after Rocio had had another scene in which she was crying, but keeping her face open to the audience, he got me to stand up, I walked slowly behind her. Then he got me to say, in a deep voice "I'm leaving you...I hate women that cry." I looked at the fifth gallery, then exited. 

These moments, like changing from big and loud with large gestures, to small and soft with head down, are the 'effects' Philippe is talking about (I think). As are the looking up at the fifth gallery moments. Philippe was encouraging Rocio to "exaggerate" throughout our scene. This is a good clue to how far we can go with the form. And he said to me "you could be more pathetic." 

I was happy with how I worked again today. I put my guts on the table. I risked. And I really committed to the risk. 

~

"It's always a beautiful scene...always."

"When you open a door, it's cold. It's good when you don't know what to do...It's cold...You could get Tuberculosis."

"We don't ask [for you] to be an actor. We ask [you] to have fun to pretend to be an actor."

"May I have an idea when I enter? You may. But you can't destroy the complicité of the scene."

"If we say: These actors, they don't put their guts on the table...a la puta cayé!" [translation: 'getouttahere!']

~

"Monsieur Dumas, please, don't pass away."

Philippe yesterday told us that he had heard 'news' that Monsieur Dumas (the head of the famous Mélodrama school where all the great Mélo actors learnt their chops) was very sick, and may be going to hospital. 

Today he told us that he indeed has gone to hospital, and that his wife has requested that we send him telepathic best wishes. He's an atheist you see - but he does believe in telepathy! So we were encouraged to whisper him messages whilst we performed our scenes.

~

"Everyone (except the nastys) have to think: he's going to kill me...please...help me..."

A few times in this workshop Philippe has got an actor to 'punish' somebody on stage by pulling their arm tight behind their back and kicking their butt, or slapping their face. And then getting the punished actor to look up to the fifth gallery and plead for help. This helps the actor find the vulnerability, sensitivity, and 'pathetic-ness' needed for Mélodrama.

pa·thet·ic/pəˈTHetik/Adjective

1. Arousing pity, esp. through vulnerability or sadness.

2. Miserably inadequate.