Standing In the Shadows of the Actor I Am Not

Tonight was a bust. A disaster. A mistake. I don’t know why I showed up for class. Sure I had other things to do, like study for those mid terms and tests that are 2 days away. But nope, I went to class. Maybe out of some bizarre obligation.

All class I felt like I had missed a months worth of classes. I had no idea what was going on and I couldn’t figure it out for the life of me. And no matter what I did, I couldn’t get into it. Couldn’t get past the self consciousness, past the doubt, past the limitations. I couldn’t, and I really wasn’t willing.

Sure I pretended for a while, watched for a while. But soon I had to leave. So I did. I left class and sat in the hall. Just sat there. I came in when class was supposed to end, but it went much longer than it was supposed to.

I stayed for the extra session to try and figure things out, but it only confused me more. Not only did it confuse, it pissed me off. I was hoping for some extra instructions in what was happening around me tonight, but I got the same thing as in the class. I still didn’t know what I was doing and I started making things up and I wasn’t happy with what I was doing.

Everyone seemed to know what their thing was; how to do it, how to say. You know, the routine. I STILL HAD NO CLUE. Everyone got a turn individually to do things. So I did my little deal and I wasn’t to impressed and clearly Raymon wasn’t either because he started asking me to do things that I couldn’t do.

He kept talking about this point; this breaking point that I haven’t reached yet and that once I pass it, things will start to come. Where the fuck is this point!? I’m sorry, but I was screaming my face off and he still wasn’t satisfied. He told me I could go twice as loud. WHAT!? I’m as loud as I go. I just got over a cold and my throat was hurting and my diaphragm was about to explode. I don’t know how to get to this point. Will someone show me a map?

This entire night made me question everything. Everything from, why did I wear this to what’s the point in living to why did I ever think I could act. I am questioning my very passion. The one thing that has made me insane, but kept me sane at the same time. Why did I ever think I could act? My mind is telling me “you can’t be an actor. Look at you; you can’t even memorize a text of your choosing.” And I have no reason not to believe my own mind.

So I here I am; standing in the shadows of the actor I am not; the actor I will never be.

I Do Not Strain at the Position, -- It's familiar

We spent a good chunk of the class just talking. About the essay, about texts and the final. Good times.

We started out by jogging a bit and stopping in places to ‘pull up roots’. Then we got into looking at different positions again. Only these ones were ‘power positions’. We were instructed to find a power position on the wall, standing and leaning on something. We were asked to look at where this position was in the room. Was it where we built our boxes? Or where we were rejected? Was there any symbolism to where you were at all? I think there was.

My first position was leaning and I was in the place where the wall sort of just out a bit. I was leaning on that and that’s just a place where I always like to be. I feel comfortable working there. I’ve done a lot of exercises over there. My sitting position was in a place near where my solo vibration was. And alack, I don’t remember my third position.

Which place was the most powerful? Had the most energy? Definitely leaning. So we go back to our most powerful position and we start vibration and just let our voices go where they want to. We could pick memories to get power or use our imaginations to get power. Were we somewhere else? I was. I was pushing up against the jut out of the wall and it reminded me of the days of Ancient Egyptians. I felt like I was a slave pushing a huge block of limestone to aid in the building of some temple or pyramid. I think I get more energy when I can physically feel an obstacle.

But that’s what tonight was all about; overcoming obstacles. You can’t be self-conscious in a drama class, no matter how hypocritical that makes me sound. I highly respect the girl who, near the end of class, showed us how strong our voices can be. I don’t know her name (sorry!) but it was brave of her to show us her work. I can’t get it out of my head. She just sat there, screaming; reaching a place that I didn’t even know existed. Some people were frightened and even left. Sorry, but get over it. There’s nothing that can hurt you and we should be supporting someone who is working, not abandoning them.

All I know is that it was super intense and that her voice should have been shot. But it wasn’t. Everything in this class defies logic.

To Tire in Repetition

I was a little frazzled tonight. I showed up late (which I NEVER do) and everyone was already halfway through the opening exercise. I had difficulty getting centered do to my frazzledness, and I did a sort of half asked cat.

This class we did a lot of physical work. We ran a bit and did some things with that, and then we moved into looking at different positions.

We would start with one position and everyone would do it, then we would sort of make it our own. Raymon would pick one that was interesting and we would start doing that one and then transition into our own variation and so on. It was neat to see what things become when we use our imagination. Or perhaps even shut our brains off.

I remember the process of one hand hold the other wrist and then rubbing up and down your arm as if you were cold. Then massaging your neck, then I was putting my hair into a ponytail, then I was taking it out and shaking my hair all over the place. I hope it looked as cool as it felt, haha.

I don’t remember much about what happened after that, except that we were supposed to go get our stuff and put it beside us because we were going to go outside. There were groans, and I will admit to being one of them. I didn’t feel like going outside, but whatever. Raymon told us to get our stuff on and some people were ready in a snap. I had to put on socks, pants, boots, a sweater, a jacket AND mittens. But when I got up to the pants, he told us to take everything off and do it again. I don’t remember exactly how long this went on, but it seemed like FOREVER. I took my pants off and put them on so many times.

There was a method to this apparent madness; the way of the actor is repetition. You have to repeat things over and over whether it is lines or the whole show. Each repetition should be as fervent as the first, just as exciting, just as entertaining. Willing and happy repetition is the way of the actor.

And Thou Shalt Read

It was a smaller class tonight, chalk that one up to the snow, but it was a lot of intimate and friendly.

We did work with our texts tonight, which was good because I needed it. I don’t think I’d ever really spoken my text out loud, nevertheless to somebody.

I will admit that I had a hard time finding willing partners this class. I am going to assume that is because my text is in a different language. At least I hope that’s what it was (I don’t smell do I?).
First we got into partners (mine was a group of three) and we just read our own texts to the other people. That was all fine and dandy.

Then we had other people read our texts. Oh boy. To the guy to who read mine, it was a good try, but it was so hard to listen to (SORRY). I’m sure an Italian would tell me I was butchering the language, but from my understanding of how to say it, you were far away. So sorry again.

The next step (I think) was to have someone read it as we say. So like, saying it together. It was an interesting little exercise. The guy I was with did really well, but maybe my voice was masking his, haha. I think he actually started to get the pronunciation towards the end.

Then we had people repeat our texts. We would read a little bit and see if they could repeat. This was hilarious. I didn’t know how much I should read (hello, it’s in Italian) so I read half a line or so. It was so funny when my partner couldn’t say it! She just started making things up and it was great. I hope she found it as funny as I did. When she read me her text, I didn’t get what it was about until about halfway through, haha. She was talking about barrel racing with horses and I was thinking like, barrel racing on a river. I guess that’s called log rolling, but that’s what I thought of and nothing she was saying made any sense to me.

It was uber hard to read this my text as fast as I can. I can speak fairly fast when I know what I am saying but I simply did not know my text well enough to do that. I also get confused sometimes because a phrase is repeated so often that sometimes I just forget or skip parts. But I am getting better. I hope.

When we went into full open vibration at the beginning of class, Raymon told us to lay our text on the vibration and fill the room. I don’t understand this. I couldn’t wrap my head around how to do it and I still can’t figure it out. It was like really loud, breathy monotone and I couldn’t do it. It’s hard for me to read my text without emotion, and I just felt like a failure; inadequate.

Would You Light My Candle?
(I'm taking a break from my usually Shakespearean titles!)

When I walked into the room tonight, I could tell it was going to be one intense class. There was a bowl of candles in the middle of the room. I got really excited. Working with candles not only feeds my pyromania and obsession with fire, but it reminded me of back home. There is a theatre company in Regina (the Globe Theatre) and they did a play called The Glass Menagerie. I didn’t really like this play, but that is not the point. I remember that during one scene, the only light on the stage was a single candle. Oh, I guess I should point out that the Globe uses in the round stages. It was one of the best lit scenes I have ever seen. I remember my drama teacher (who was amazing FYI! (props to Vern)) telling the class how he loves when there are actual lit candles on stage and he would do it in our shows if it wasn’t such a fire hazard for teenagers to handle fire on stage.

Anyway, we lit these candles and walked around with them in the dark. When Raymon opened the curtains to the mirror though, I got freaked out. I HATE mirrors! I did want to leave when he did that, but I didn’t. I liked the way the flame would flicker when I walked. It would almost go out but then it would somehow find the strength to keep giving light.

When we stuck our candles in the ground and walked around and away from them, I felt like I was in an ashram. For those of you reading this and are so uncultured that you don’t know what an ashram is, it is a sacred temple / retreat in Hindu culture. Kind of like a spiritual retreat where monks live. I’ve never been in one, but I imagine it would be like this candle class.

When we were instructed to aim our vibrations at our candles, I was certain that I would blow mine out. I can blow candles out from metres away. I don’t know if this is a talent or not…. Anywho, my candle flame was going in very weird directions. If I was blowing from the left of the candle, the flame would go back. It was very odd. I couldn’t get the flame to move in the way I was blowing. I thought that there was something wrong with me.

But then the real impossible task came. We blew the candles out and were told to use our full open vibration to relight it. What!? How is this even possible? I was sceptical, oh yes, when I am not freaking out, logic is my best friend. I still can’t wrap my head around this concept of relighting a candle using our voices. Even though Raymon told us that he has seen it with his own eyes. I did try, but I got really tired, really fast. I’ve really worn my voice out, even though I always use the excuse of having three months of laryngitis and a month of tonsillitis. My voice just gave up. There was nothing I could do.

Sometimes I felt like collapsing because I was just so drained. I was trying so hard and nothing as happening. I wasn’t seeing the fruit of my labour. But maybe this wasn’t about relighting the physical candle, but rather a relighting of the proverbial candle. Whatever it is in our lives that needs relighting. Maybe it’s a love or a passion. Perhaps it’s the light under your but that gets you to do school work (is there a special match for this candle? Because I think mine is broken…).
But then again, maybe it was about finding that source of energy and using it. Trying to reach your full potential. Self actualization. Putting your entire self into the moment. Because after all, life is about meeting the moment. What you do is up to you. Fearing the moment won’t make it go away. After all, who is really is the strongest: the man who meets his moment or the man who fights it?