Saturday, March 14, 2015, was the last day of my Shakespeare acting class. It was amazing.
Last week, I wrote a post about my impressions and feelings about the class based upon my experiences in the prior weeks leading up to that final class. This week, I want to add some thoughts based on that final class.
I am not cut out for this whole acting thing.
Let me go back in time, and I think you’ll understand.
When I was in college, I was the stage manager for a production of “The Lion In Winter.” I went to every rehearsal, and I knew that play inside and out – lines, blocking, everything.
One day, the actor who played Alais wasn’t there, and the director asked me to stand in for her in a scene. Easy peasy, right? I had to watch the other actors, say one line, and leave.
King Henry II and Queen Eleanor are having a knock-down-drag-out argument about and around Alais and then Henry says something to Alais like, “Go to my chamber,” and she says, “I’ll be waiting when you want me,” and leaves the stage.
I was so overcome with the emotions flying between the actors that when Robb (Henry) turned to me and said his line, all I could see was the fury in his eyes and I panicked and fled. I was in the wings before it occurred to me that I had a line to say and I had to stop myself from going back out to say it.
So the whole emotional sharing on stage thing is not me. I have a really hard time with it. Letting someone get into my space, or yell at me, or even look at me closely – this is not something I enjoy. When I said that this class was getting me out of my comfort zone, I meant that quite literally. I am physically uncomfortable with the whole concept of being up there and doing these things.
I am amazed I actually went through with this class at all.
Working without a net is good, but it’s better if you let someone spot you.
Memorization was optional in this class, which was a great stress reliever. As I said last week, these speeches are hard and there’s something so comforting in knowing you’ve got the words RIGHT THERE in your hand even if you don’t ever need them. There are drawbacks, of course: it restricts your gestures and distracts your audience.
However, as I described in last week’s blog, it is not easy to keep all of those words straight, especially under the stress of performance. So our good teacher Anne said that for the performances, we should hand our speeches to someone in the group to prompt us if we get lost.
What a difference that made for me.
Just knowing that Trudy was holding onto my paper for me, ready to supply me the words if I had one of my “Oh, shit!” moments again, made it possible for me to get all the way through without stopping, without blanking out.
I should have known.
It’s always better to have a safety net. You’re better off with a team, not trying to go it alone.
“A little terror is fine…”
That is a quote from my teacher. When she sent us an email detailing the arrangements for the final performances, I had replied to the group, “Am I the only one who is slightly terrified?” She replied, “A little terror is fine – an adrenaline boost, but don’t let it get the best of you!”
At the final class, we did a run through of all of the scenes and monologues before the final performances, and sure enough, everyone had issues.
But then, lo and behold, the guests were allowed in (the CSF Outreach coordinator and some family members) and we ran through it again… and it was marvelous! For me at least, the terror settled into a sense of “You HAVE to do this!”
First you crawl, then you leap, then you fly.
I’ve been trying to think of something to compare this to in terms of the learning curve, and I’ve come up with nothing. In the beginning, it is very slow going, like slogging through waist-deep waves at the ocean. You’re trying to do everything at once and end up doing none of it very well.
Even last week, at the penultimate class, we all had issues – some of us serious ones – that the whole group pitched in to try to fix. What, exactly, does Duke Orsino mean when he launches into the whole “O Spirit of Love…” part of his speech? How do you give a list of things variety and verve? Where, in that long string of words, can you take a breath?
But what is amazing is how suddenly and abruptly we all took a great leap forward. The difference between the final performances and the first read-through – or even the rehearsals the week before – was astounding. We weren’t Oscar-worthy by any means, but we were better than we’d ever been. In control, funny or impassioned or fiendish, we spoke the words and conveyed the emotion and didn’t overdo. We had a long way to go and we knew it, but we had come such a very long way already. We wished for another week – two, three – to keep going: to gain more confidence, to try something different, to keep working and striving…
I know I’m not cut out for acting, that it’s not a calling for me, that the terror is real and I’ll probably never shake it, but being in a group like that, working together, supporting each other through the fear, pushing through the challenges…
That is priceless, and worth every second, and THAT I would do again. In a heartbeat.