“My Poetry Goes This Way And Fuck You Conventional Theatre.”

Back to a full class in Movement today, which was nice! And Élena made a good clear change towards more physical. We sweated a lot! And it was fun. So that’s really positive.

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In class today Philippe announced that on Wednesday we will start to present scenes to be accepted (or not accepted) into the show next week. Until then we can still show things to be worked on.

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Barbara tried her Spanish monologue again but her voice was still bad - weak and breathy. Philippe got her to read out loud a Plan de Paris, listing off all the street names and their arrondissements. This gave her a clear, decided, matter-of-fact tone and rhythm which with the text was good. Philippe then said she could change the rhythm if she wanted to but keep the same voice, but it fell away. He then got her to mock the theatre of Mexico, but do it 10 times as big, which brought her alive more.

Finally he got her to pick somebody to play Toy Soldiers/War with. She picked me! So we played war with imaginary figurines across a table. “War to Mexico! You’ll never defeat New Zealand!!!” Like this, we had a “good game”. But Barbara struggled to do it with the text, and without me playing with her. 

“The movement you had during the war with Guy, with the text...it could be good.”

Philippe said she needs a director, which I’d like to do, but it could be a struggle to find the time.

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Lee presented this fantastic Feydeau monologue he’d originally tried for the Cabaret way back when. It starts with “I’m leaving” (which was the only line he got to say in the Cabaret) and he goes on to explain that he hates monologues, and there’s a guy in the other room reciting one...which he can’t stand. And he rants about all the reasons why he hates monologues. But of course it’s funny because he is in fact saying a monologue!

What he did wasn’t working at first. Well, we weren’t laughing, and at this school that usually means it’s not working. But at one point when Lee had pointed his arm out rather strongly, Philippe got him to do it again, and then to do it yelling. And with his costume - a little black bowl-cut wig and too-small mustache - he looked like Hitler. A german walk topped it off.

This was funny. But what made it funnier was the fact that the resulting movement and sweat from shouting like Hitler led to his mustache and his wig slowly coming off. He ended up holding his mustache on his face with two fingers, and holding his wig on top of his head with the other hand, and it was hilarious. “In this way he is good.”

“Do we say he has to lose his wig and mustache during the show? I think so.”

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I then presented an Edmund monologue from King Lear.

Thou, nature, art my goddess;

To thy law my services are bound.

I started deep, slow, and brooding (I was trying to find the ‘dangerous’ that Ben had found on Friday), but while I was doing my (boring) thing Philippe interrupted me and started asking me about my girlfriend. About how me met and how our romance bloomed. He asked me about my other girlfriends too (Jocia, Heavenna, and Cherie!) and got me to describe what happened when I lost my virginity. This made me feel a bit naughty, I had pleasure, and I was open. He then got me to do the text like this, but he corrected me every time I fell into anything that had a hint of anger, or sadness, or revenge. “No revenge.” 

Then he got me to sing some Frank Sinatra - Come Fly With Me - and to the text in this way. Sometimes singing, sometimes speaking. A dance here and there. Not too loud. Casual. Like a party. Big smile. I had fun like this, and I was open. 

“The more open he is, the more he is dangerous.”

“Like this, with what he says, he is going to kill...He doesn’t think what he is going to do it bad.”

Philippe said what I did at first conventional:“we can see that everywhere”. Philippe said in this way, Edmund is less conventional and more me. More with my spirit. And he spoke about how you have to say “my poetry goes this way and fuck you conventional theatre.”

I’m going to try and present this for the show, and go more towards Frank Sinatra, with big-band music, a loose shirt, cigar, and glass of whisky.

Realtime - 2005 International BHS Quartet Champions

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Mike tried out his Jail Bird monologue again, bringing with him a big list of different rhythms and voices to try out. None of them worked. 

“I don’t see where he has fun.”

“You are always the same sad guy...I don’t know how to catch.”

I think what Mike is doing isn’t working because he’s pushing, he wants too much, he’s not listening to us, he’s not having fun, and he’s not actually playing. This is a lot of reasons (!) but I think if he really plays he might find that many of his problems are solved. Because last week, he had a great moment where he imitated an ice hockey commentator with his text and he was really alive and we loved him...because he had pleasure and he was playing. He was surprising himself! But the following two times he’s done that rhythm again it’s been mechanical, pushed, and he doesn’t have fun. I said to Mike that I think he needs to really play with the text. Improvise the rhythm every time he does it, rather learning the musicality of the rhythm off by heart and repeating it beat by beat, note by note...which is what it seems like he’s doing. And I think what I told him is possible. Because an ice hockey game is always different. It’s unpredictable, just when it looks like somebody has got the puck, somebody else slams him into the wall!

And that’s where the actor’s imagination comes in. It’s the actors imagination and sense of play that keeps that text and rhythm alive and fresh every night.