Comedy in Shakespeare

[gilana]

Wednesday I took a half-day workshop on Comedy in Shakespeare, given by the Actors' Shakespeare Project -- my first-ever acting class. (No, that's not true; I took acting as an English class in high school, but all I remember from that is doing trust falls off the stage, and performing a mime of Jack and the Beanstalk in which I started out crouching down, milking the cow, and accidentally fell over.)

They started the day with improv games, which often throw me into a panic, but I made myself think, "OK, I never need to see any of these people again. It's ok to look like a total fool" and managed to really let go more than ever before and even have some fun doing it. It also helped that there was someone else there, a teacher who didn't seem to have much acting experience, who clearly was in that petrified state -- I knew I wasn't alone, and that I wouldn't be the worst one.

One of the most interesting exercises had us close our eyes and feel the state of our neutral, resting bodies, then perform some everyday movement, then go back to resting. We repeated the movements, making them bigger, feeling them as a compulsion, then we had to open our eyes and keep doing it, start doing it while walking, add a sound, add a phrase, and eventually have the movement become a whole character, and finally all of our odd compulsive characters had to interact at a block party. Definitely interesting to see how much motion can inform character.

After a short break, during which I discovered that I had actually met one of the women before at movie night, and another is talking to lillibet to find a time to audition for Merry Wives, we performed our pre-prepared monologues for the group. Each person would get up, perform the monologue, and get feedback from the class and the teachers. I've gotten pretty comfortable performing for T@F, but I had no idea what it would be like to perform in front of another group; I was afraid that I would revert back to freezing up, being too quiet, forgetting everything.

I went third -- I jumped up quickly to get it over with as soon as possible. Luckily, I had someone on book for me, as a few lines fell completely out of my head, but many people after me had to call line, so I was not alone. The monologue went pretty well; I got some positive comments on several aspects of my performance, such as the overall shape of the piece and my voice and breath control, although it was obvious from some of the comments that my nerves had shown. (Like, "You have good breath control, but remember to breathe!") Some of the suggestions were things I had meant to do but forgot. There were also a lot of very helpful comments about things that I think will help me not only with this piece, but in general. Can't wait to do the monologue for the Merry Wives auditions now!

One of the words that kept coming up for many people was specificity. It seems to be an important concept, and I sort of got what they were talking about in some areas, but I suspect there's a lot more there that I need to figure out. Any of you actor types know more about that?

The plan had been that after getting notes we would have a chance to perform the monologues again, but with 15 people in the class and lots of helpful notes, we ran out of time. So for the last few minutes of class, we died, instead. Everyone got up in front of the class and got to die, however they liked. It was a total blast. I brought a chair up with me, sat down daintily with a crooked pinky and sipped my tea -- sniffed suspiciously at it -- sipped again -- and fell rigid sideways off the chair to the floor, eyes wide open. I have no idea why this seemed like a good idea at the time, I have no experience in falling and in hindsight it actually seems pretty stupid, but in fact, it wasn't all that bad. I expected I might have some bruises on the arm the next day, but it's fine. And it was well worth the laugh. :)

We forced the teachers -- Bobbie Steinbach and John Kuntz, and if you ever get the chance to see them perform, run don't walk -- to die, too. Bobbie died of mosquito bites, and John did this incredible mime in which he put his money into a vending machine, nothing came out, he reached his arm way up inside, and somehow got sucked up into the machine and died inside, pressed up against the glass.

A group of us went to see Hamlet on the Common later that night, and John was in it as Guildenstern and Osric, and he was amazing; I would not have recognized him from the class, and you would never have known the two characters were played by the same person. (The play itself, sadly, mostly put me to sleep, although there were some good funny moments. Sorry, plumtreeblossom, I guess I'm a peasant at heart. I go for the comedies.)

So all in all a fabulous experience! Sadly, the summer workshops are now over, but if they end up offering anything else, I highly recommend them.

Comments

[xiphias.livejournal.com]

I saw John Kuntz playing Richard III several months back. He was AMAZING.

[plumtreeblossom.livejournal.com]

Oooh, you studied with John Kuntz! If I'd known I would have taken the class too! I think he's incredible.

[gilana]

He really is. Glad I didn't know beforehand, I would have been too intimidated to do it! And the best part is, I'm supposed to email him feedback on the class -- I have his personal email address :)
And Bobbie was Dogsberry in As You Like It last year, I remember how fabulous she was.

[plumtreeblossom.livejournal.com]

Bobbie was Dogsberry

I LOVED her! She stole the whole show. You really hit the jackpot with that class.

[lillibet.livejournal.com]

It sounds like a great class. You are so brave! I'm glad it paid off and you had fun and got so much out of it.

Specificity is, well, what it sounds like. You want to be as specific as possible about everything you do, everything you think. When you mime picking up a glass, picture the glass--is it a wineglass or a tumbler, is it 4" high, or six, is it heavier on the bottom, is it made of plastic, or glass, or crystal. The more you know about what you're doing, the more (in theory) the audience can feel the reality of the moment, even if they can't actually see the glass or know what you're thinking about it.

The textbook I was reading this week for RFB&D actually had a nice example of this (it's also an issue in writing). They asked "which is better":

The girl sat in the chair drinking a soda.

Diana slumped in the recliner sipping a Diet Pepsi.

In acting, you always want to try for the latter.

Is that clearer? We can chat sometime about how to apply it onstage, if you like.

[roozle.livejournal.com]

That sounds so cool! You'll be really ready for auditions.