I am the Rail Operator for Tryst, as the Rail Operator, it is my job to make the curtains and chandelier fly. During the show I sit off stage right and am lucky to have a perfect view of both the stage and the first row of the audience.
This week is the last week of the shows run. Typically, when running a show for multiple weeks Crew members, myself included, will begin to memorize the actor's lines and start speaking (or mouthing) the words along with them... but for some these words won't stick. I literally never know what these two wonderful actors are going to say next, or more importantly, how they are going to say it. People always say they love live theatre because "it is different every night." However, actors often do fall into specific habits or patterns of speech but with regard to Tryst, the show is noticeably different each and every performance. A change in speech pattern, a new tempo, an added breath, a subtly stressed syllable all add to the depth of the story and its characters.
These tiny, daily differences combined are the reasons why I haven't completely formulated an opinion on either character. One day George Love is lying, the next he's telling the truth, they love each other, they don't love each other...most days, to loosely quote the show, I don't know whose game it is! I suppose the reason I've fallen in love with Tryst is because it truly is alive! The performance becomes a great being that captures the audience and holds it in its gigantic hands until the final curtain.
It is not until this show that I've realized how alive and vital the audience is and must be for "good theatre" to happen! My favorite audience member so far has been the quintessential Westportian man. He sat front and center (right in my line of sight) in his salmon polo and khaki shorts, his bald head reflecting the light from the stage. I watched this man transform from overworkedoverstressedfinancier to a young boy completely enraptured and taken in by the words, by the story being told on stage. There was no need for stage lights anymore because his smile lit up the room.
I wish he could see how he looked: years younger, having fun, letting his imagination run wild and allowing himself to play with the actors on stage. The way this man looked...whatever that look was...THAT is what theatre should be, and to Mr. Salmon Polo that is what theatre IS.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Showcase! A Tour des Interns.
Tonight was Intern Showcase. For the past month the 2008 Intern Class has been working endlessly on putting this night together. At first, I was skeptical. I doubted my own abilities and the abilities of my fellow interns. Just one week ago we had a preview performance for each other...this show was NEVER going to come together. But as always...
It did!!! I don't know why we never allow ourselves to enjoy, to relish in "the process." Why is the goal always "the product?"
I have learned that my fellow interns and I are an obscenely multi-talented group of people. We can sing, we can write, we can dance, we can play piano and guitar, we can design and stage manage... Our show displayed not only our talent but our passion. I believe we were so successful because we were able to capture--- without knowing it--- precisely what it feels like to be living, in our bodies and our minds at this very moment.
We are a group with a lot to say. We have so so so many IDEAS, DREAMS, HOPES, GOALS but I suppose what our performance displayed is that we are at that stage in our lives where we have the necessary tools and skills to fulfill our goals and bring our dreams to fruition but something gets in the way. A question that we are afraid to answer or that we are afraid to ask. But most the time the only thing getting in the way of our dreams are ourselves.
As Holly said to me tonight: "Conquer the world!" and as theatre people, together, we will.
It did!!! I don't know why we never allow ourselves to enjoy, to relish in "the process." Why is the goal always "the product?"
I have learned that my fellow interns and I are an obscenely multi-talented group of people. We can sing, we can write, we can dance, we can play piano and guitar, we can design and stage manage... Our show displayed not only our talent but our passion. I believe we were so successful because we were able to capture--- without knowing it--- precisely what it feels like to be living, in our bodies and our minds at this very moment.
We are a group with a lot to say. We have so so so many IDEAS, DREAMS, HOPES, GOALS but I suppose what our performance displayed is that we are at that stage in our lives where we have the necessary tools and skills to fulfill our goals and bring our dreams to fruition but something gets in the way. A question that we are afraid to answer or that we are afraid to ask. But most the time the only thing getting in the way of our dreams are ourselves.
As Holly said to me tonight: "Conquer the world!" and as theatre people, together, we will.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Fat Pig
The necessity of suffering in art.
There is a chapter in Peter Brook's, The Empty Space--- and I'm sorry I can not reference it more directly right now---where he discusses the stigma surrounding artists asking for more financial compensation for their work. How theatre professionals don't feel as if they are "worthy" of or entitled to making money because it is necessary to fill the stereotype of "starving artist."
Wikipedia describes a "starving artist" as one who: sacrifices material well-being in order to focus on their artwork. They typically live on minimum expenses, either for a lack of business or because all their disposable income goes towards art projects. Some starving artists desire mainstream success but have difficulty due to the high barriers in art such as visual arts, the film industry, and THEATRE.
These artists frequently take temporary positions (such as waitering jobs) while they focus their attention on breaking through in their preferred field. Others may find enough satisfaction in living as artists to choose voluntary poverty regardless of prospects of future financial reward or broad recognition.
It is widely known that the theatre is not an extremely lucrative industy and we all have chosen this path with the knowledge that we will not be millionaires, we will not have as easy as a life as those who earn more money. We won't have normal hours, it may be years (if ever) we decide to "settle down," we will have to make sacrafices that people with desk jobs will not. But we make these choices to feed our hunger to create. But if theatre fills our emotional & psychological stomachs why is it so difficult to simultaneously feed our physical ones?
Is it necessary for the artist to suffer? I've talked to many of my friends and know from first hand experience, that we are most inspired to write or act or sing or dance or direct when we are upset or "starved." Theatre becomes a kind of outlet and great work usually comes from great misery.
Many of my theatre friends have experienced tragedy at a very young age: eating disorders, rehab, suicides of friends and family members, arrest, financial disparitiy, etc... and I, thankfully (?) have not. I get along with my family and they support me, I grew up comfortably, I have experienced death, but natural death. Because I've had less tragic experiences does that make me less of an artist? Because I've never tasted the aftershock of, for example, being arrested. Does that give me one less color to paint with?
To Be Continued...
Please find below incidents of actual starvation as "art:"
"The Hunger Artist" by Franz Kafka:
http://records.viu.ca/~Johnstoi/kafka/hungerartist.htm
Guillermo Vargas Habacuc- starves a dog to death, claims as "art:"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guillermo_Vargas
(I know this is just a wikipedia link, but there are many other resources available, this will just get you started.)
I'd LOVE to hear your opinions!
There is a chapter in Peter Brook's, The Empty Space--- and I'm sorry I can not reference it more directly right now---where he discusses the stigma surrounding artists asking for more financial compensation for their work. How theatre professionals don't feel as if they are "worthy" of or entitled to making money because it is necessary to fill the stereotype of "starving artist."
Wikipedia describes a "starving artist" as one who: sacrifices material well-being in order to focus on their artwork. They typically live on minimum expenses, either for a lack of business or because all their disposable income goes towards art projects. Some starving artists desire mainstream success but have difficulty due to the high barriers in art such as visual arts, the film industry, and THEATRE.
These artists frequently take temporary positions (such as waitering jobs) while they focus their attention on breaking through in their preferred field. Others may find enough satisfaction in living as artists to choose voluntary poverty regardless of prospects of future financial reward or broad recognition.
It is widely known that the theatre is not an extremely lucrative industy and we all have chosen this path with the knowledge that we will not be millionaires, we will not have as easy as a life as those who earn more money. We won't have normal hours, it may be years (if ever) we decide to "settle down," we will have to make sacrafices that people with desk jobs will not. But we make these choices to feed our hunger to create. But if theatre fills our emotional & psychological stomachs why is it so difficult to simultaneously feed our physical ones?
Is it necessary for the artist to suffer? I've talked to many of my friends and know from first hand experience, that we are most inspired to write or act or sing or dance or direct when we are upset or "starved." Theatre becomes a kind of outlet and great work usually comes from great misery.
Many of my theatre friends have experienced tragedy at a very young age: eating disorders, rehab, suicides of friends and family members, arrest, financial disparitiy, etc... and I, thankfully (?) have not. I get along with my family and they support me, I grew up comfortably, I have experienced death, but natural death. Because I've had less tragic experiences does that make me less of an artist? Because I've never tasted the aftershock of, for example, being arrested. Does that give me one less color to paint with?
To Be Continued...
Please find below incidents of actual starvation as "art:"
"The Hunger Artist" by Franz Kafka:
http://records.viu.ca/~Johnstoi/kafka/hungerartist.htm
Guillermo Vargas Habacuc- starves a dog to death, claims as "art:"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guillermo_Vargas
(I know this is just a wikipedia link, but there are many other resources available, this will just get you started.)
I'd LOVE to hear your opinions!
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