Experience not Performance

CONGRESS IN SESSION

To the Esteemed Delegation,

My hopes are high for 2009. In a week, we will be seeing in a new president and much needed change. I also sense a new artistic breeze stirring, one that I hope turns into a full storm, again of much needed change.

I firmly believe that one of the main roles of art is to allow the spectator to see the world through a new set of eyes, through a different perspective. To broaden perceptions creates acceptance and understanding. We have lived through eight years of feeling morally superior to the world, and that is unhealthy. The moment you place yourself above another, the moment you assume that you know what is right for someone else better than they know what is right for themselves, is the moment when violence and hatred are allowed to blossom.

Last week, I reviewed the interactive Iraq War simulation/performance Surrender. For four hours, I was literally put in the U.S. Army issued boots of another person. For four hours, I saw the world through eyes that were not my own. I cannot stop thinking about this experience. And though I did not see Kirk Wood Bromley’s new untitled play, I have talked to Critic Martin Denton extensively about his experience seeing it. While he was not issued a replica rifle and put through basic training as I was, Denton nonetheless left the theatre feeling ravaged and defiled by a play that did not just show him an experience but put him through it as well.

Experience. I wrote that word three times in the last paragraph, not because of shoddy proofreading, but because there was no other word to use. ‘Experience’ is a very powerful artistic tool, and one I hope will be part of this new theatrical wave I perceive.

Here is my challenge to the artistic community (first and foremost to my own company, No. 11 Productions): Do not just show the audience a new world or a new perspective, let them feel it, be completely engaged in it. Make it an experience. Take them on the journey with you. It does not have to be done as literally as in Surrender (although I sure would love to take part in more theatre like it). I believe there are a multitude of means to this end yet to be explored, and that is very exciting.

We have only had two rehearsals for our upcoming production of Artaud’s Jet of Blood. But they have been incredibly energizing and fruitful. I hope that when all is said and done, Jet of Blood will be an Experience not a Performance.

Written by Julie Congress

Attacking the audience?

The Conway Corner

The staged readings of Aurolac Blues by Saviana Stanescu and Self at Hand by Jack Hanley on Monday night at Manhattan Repertory Theatre went well...except that an audience member fainted and an ambulance had to be called in the middle of the performance. During the second part of Self at Hand called Tastes Like Robot, I was reading a particularly gruesome passage involving a man refilling with peanut butter a section of his leg that he had cut out, when I heard the rustle of a metal chair from the audience. Unsure of what happened in the dark in front of me I continued reading for a moment. Then I heard a voice say we had to stop. We brought up the house lights and indeed someone had collapsed from their seat.

The audience member is fine, don't worry. But we were all quite concerned at the time. After regaining consciousness, he dry heaved into a bucket for a while, so it was hard to tell exactly what had happened to him. He was then moved to the hallway, where his condition worsened, and it was determined that it was necessary to call an ambulance.

Self at Hand is a play that makes the most callous listener squeamish. Its vivid poetic language is as outright gross as it is deeply metaphoric. I perhaps expected a few audience members to leave during this play, but I certainly did not expect it to overwhelm someone's capacity to remain conscious.

After a discussion between Martin Denton and the two playwrights to distract attention from the emergency situation, we continued the reading where we left off, with the peanut butter. Ryan was accompanying the audience member onto the ambulance, so I jumped into his role in the final part of Self at Hand.

Since No. 11 is beginning its next endeavor, Jet of Blood or the Ball of Glass by Antonin Artaud, an advocate of the audience's visceral involvement in the work of theatre, a Theatre of Cruelty, often interrupted and implemented as attacking the audience, the real question at hand for me is when an audience ought to be attacked and to what extent. Certainly, aiming to make an audience member faint on its own is not a worthwhile objective, but when would it be justified to make an audience faint? Outside of New York City, there are possibly those who, as an audience to the way Ryan cradled his boyfriend in his arms after he fainted, would themselves faint. Should such a scene be presented to such an audience? Women wearing corsets used to faint whenever they ascend a flight of stairs. Ought one to make such a women ascend many flights of stairs in order to make clear the absurdity of the device restricting their breathing? Artaud does not have a social agenda such as these examples present, rather more of a spiritual and cultural agenda. But, the question reapplied to the context of the Self at Hand reading bares asking, and of course one would respond, "well, people should see what they want to see, but not be made to see anything they aren't interested in seeing." Of course I can't force all of New York City to come see No. 11's plays. Although if I had the means...

I guess we are banking on those unsuspecting few, who stumble into the theatre for a night of fun, and wind up having an experience they were not interested in having. They will be most affected. I cannot help but wonder whether theatre that pushes boundaries isn't aimed at those accidental few, rather than those who are accustomed to its ideas. Maybe theatre isn't for theatre-goers? Ought one's gag reflex to be jostled by an unfamiliar stimulus, such as a description of peanut butter spread into a wound? I don't think the audience member wanted to faint. Nor would most. But nor does the corset wearing woman at the stop of the stairs, yet she will faint following her routine ascension of the staircase. It requires our proposed incessant ascension for her to remove her corset out of fear of death. Will she love her protruding stomach because it is her savior, or maintain the attitude she bore towards it when she wore the corset? She would most likely only adopt the attitude of acceptance if the experience of multiple ascensions was prompted by her own interest in being involved in it. But there remains a possibility she will love her stomach after the multiple ascensions, were she to accidentally be required to ascend many a' stair. So, ought Self at Hand to be performed for an audience member, given that it will make him faint and he'll have to leave in an ambulance? I think it may be contingent upon the coinciding objective of the performance...

But I've run into some difficulty here, and I think you'll see why. There is a collision between someone's free choice what is good for them. I would not necessary say that Self at Hand was good for the audience member who fainted. He would most likely say it was gross and he wishes he hadn't gone to the reading. But what would the audience member say to the hypothetical woman who faint when she saw him and Ryan embracing, and wishes she hadn't gone to the reading? I'm not saying the audience member ought to become accustomed to descriptions of bodily mutilation by enduring many evenings of fainting. But, should the visceral experience of violence lead to a new discovery, then it may be justified. Not actual violence...we won't go there. In the realm of art, is revolution possible and justifiable? The vicarious investment in an affective experience, by the accidental few who do not expect it, may lead to an unpleasant public loss of consciousness, but there is also the possibility it could lead to a woman accepting her belly fat. Hmm...is it worth the fall? To be honest, I'm not sure yet. A definitive component of our current culture is prevention: insurance, preemptive war, enhanced security, etc. So, especially in the context of such emphasis on surety, I think the theatre could use a little of the unexpected.

Written by Mitchell Conway

What Makes an Actor Good?

CONGRESS IN SESSION

To the General Assembly,

To grow as an artist, it is important to be perpetually questioning and reexamining one’s craft. Unfortunately, this sort of discussion seems to have little place once one graduates from their particular Institution of Learning. It is the aim of No. 11 Productions to be continually learning and growing, so please give me leave to wax [semi-]eloquently on the question: “What makes an actor good?” My list is nowhere near complete, but I hope that my compatriots at No. 11 and you, dear readers, will add to this discussion.

What Makes an Actor Good?

• Talent – You can’t rule it out, some people are innately gifted, and while good actors become better through training and experience, some degree of talent is necessary.
  
• Versatility – While the Tom Cruises and other mega-celebrities of this world can make a living playing themselves on the screen, a good actor, in my mind, should be able to play many parts. You should see the character on the stage/screen not the actor.
  
• Collaboration – As a director, I would rather cast someone I want to work with than someone who is uber-talented but brings nothing to the ensemble. The ability to work as part of a group, to bring ideas and energy to the project, and put the production over oneself is one of the most important features an actor can have.
  
• Control/Proprioception – Not only must a good actor have control over their physicality and voice, but they must always be in command of themselves on stage. Yes, we must be the character and be caught up in the world of the play, but a small part of the actor must always be watching what is going on. Proprioception, according to Wikipedia, “is the sense of the relative position of neighbouring parts of the body.” Proprioception is how we can move our feet even if we are not looking at them. It is a function of the brain that an actor must have to an extended degree. We must be in the moment onstage, but our actor-proprioception allows us to also know what is going on with the audience and with our fellow actors. Without this, an actor can become dangerously immersed in the character and lose sight of the fact that they are acting, which can be perilous for those onstage with them. No matter how immersed in a character and the given circumstances, we still have to pull our punches.
  
• Humanity – To paraphrase Stanislavsky, even if you are playing an evil character, it is the responsibility of the actor to find what is good about him. The job of an actor is not to judge their character, but to embrace them, faults and all. To find the good in a character, to understand how humans work, and to want to create life is essential to a good performance.
  
• Energy/Passion/Charisma – To create life, you need energy. Scientists say energy cannot be created or destroyed, so an actor must be able to find within him/herself that fervor that will not only catch an audience’s eyes but will invigorate and enliven everyone and everything around them. You can tell when an actor loves what they are doing and it is contagious and exciting.
  
• Dedication/Hard Work – As an actor, you will experience these rare, magical moments where something inexplicably wonderful happens and you are greater than yourself. But there is no recipe for this, and you cannot rely on it happening. What you can do is work hard, continue to train, and be constantly open to learning and growing.
  
• Good Attitude – Theatre is a highly collaborative art form. An actor must be receptive to the director, to the ensemble, and to the project. There is a reason we rehearse so much, it is to make the production and the performances stronger and stronger and the actor must be excited, not resistant, to this process.
  
• Openness – A good actor has an open mind, an open heart, and an open soul.

Written by Julie Congress