The Big Question

Back in 2006, while performing in The Underpants at Lyric Stage Company, I was interviewed for a feature in the Boston Globe.  Louise Kennedy reported:

Lawton herself takes a modest view of her abilities. "I'm very hard-working, and I'm very dedicated, and I'm willing to try anything. I don't get embarrassed very easily," Lawton says. "I don't think I have a lot of natural raw talent. I have a willingness."


Looking back on that statement, I still feel that holds true.  I have continued to develop my craft, but that reflects more of my fierce dedication than anything else.  Scanning through the rest of the article, I see some things that have changed: I was married, I hadn't held a 'day job' in over six years, I was happy to stay in Boston for my career...and at the close of the article, I see the biggest change:

"I had a teacher say to me, `Just do it until it's not fun anymore. As long as it's fun, it's the greatest job in the world. And when it's not fun, it's the worst.' "

So has there ever been a time when she hasn't found it fun?

She laughs again. "Not yet."

I have, for the first time in my life, been truly faced with the question about whether I am supposed to be an actor.  Almost twenty years into a (successful) career, and 2/3 through my MA training and I am seriously doubting whether I am meant to be on stage.  


The search for the joy and passion were what tempted me back into school in the first place.  Theatre hadn't become a joyless place, but the career itself had started looking more and more like a job.  I wanted to rekindle the glow - both professionally and personally in my work.  And I look back over my time here, and I've definitely had flickers of that reignited.  And to be honest, in many ways I feel that I love theatre more deeply now than I ever have.  Somehow I haven't been able to maintain that glow of joy in my performance, though, and it does seem to be the note I get most often from my school critique panels.  


Something interesting happened in the full mainstage production which we just completed.  I started the rehearsal process excited and inspired by my two roles.  (I think 'thrilled' was actually the word I used).  I had been challenged by my tutors to push beyond my usual solid (what I have referred to as 'serviceable') work and allow myself to be brilliant.  With these two smaller roles, I felt the unique opportunity to play and push boundaries; to create something memorable and new.  


Now, the rehearsal process was unlike anything I've ever experienced in my career.  Our cast of 18 jumped in on the first day with group improvisation and devision, rather than a traditional read-through of the script.  As a matter of fact, we never had a read-through...never heard the entire play until the end of the third week when we did our first run-through.  A week into rehearsal, and because we were rehearsing scenes out of order...I still had not spoken a line out loud.  I found it difficult to keep the story line straight, and to develop a strong sense of the journey of the play.  The design team was devising along with us, so although we had a clear dimension of the stage, we had no clue what costumes (or shoes), props, or set pieces would be in play.  It was much like rehearsing a film (you jump into the process mid-stream, with only your scene and lines in hand), except without the clear vision of storyboards to lead your way.  I could see how this process would be highly successful with a much smaller cast - and I would love to participate in devising theatre in this actor-led, organic manner.  However, my experience was that for 18 people to successfully organically stage large group scenes and maintain audience sight lines, or to improvise battle scenes with quarterstaffs on a deep thrust stage requires a huge amount of time (and danger) to undertake.  


Now, anyone who has ever worked with me knows that about 2/3 the way through a rehearsal process I have a major meltdown.  I have my lines, my blocking, my script well-actioned...everything should be falling into place, but it is still mechanical and disconnected...and I fall into an absolute panicked-weeping-mess.  "I don't know what I'm doing."  "I'm lost." "What the hell do I think I'm doing being an actor?!"  I seek help, I get it, I struggle, and I usually connect and start having fun again.  It is something predictable for me, so even though it always feels like the end of the world, there is something in the back of my mind that also knows that this is just part of my process.  I love rehearsals.  I probably love them more than performing.  I love the permission to explore and fail and play.  And even the predictable melt-down is not a drag...I know it is a temporary phase.


So, yes...I had my meltdown.


And while the director summarily dismissed me with, "You just think you're struggling," the movement director took interest in helping me.  She came in an hour before rehearsal one morning to work on physically differentiating my two characters.  I still was feeling disconnected from the work, but I focused on creating the hooks for each character.  I employed every single technique that I could remember from the last seven months of training and threw each of them at the roles.  I did vocal work, animal work, Laban movement, textual analysis, Lorna's in-depth character work (both the written and physical work).  I tried opposites, counter-intuitive choices, Yat work, answered my Stanislavskian questions.  I started coming in an hour or two before rehearsal with a fellow classmate to do creative warm-ups to try to free up my mind and body to make unpredictable choices.  


Nothing.


I finally decided - screw it - I'm just going to go back to what I know.  What I did before school.  But I couldn't figure out what that was.  And there it was.  We were at performance.  I had been given more rehearsal time than I have EVER had to put up a professional show, and opening night came and went and I wasn't....I wasn't....present.  My confidence: shattered.  My ability to judge my own work for quality: evaporated.  My joy: absent.  The holy triumvirate of the actor - and all had abandoned me.


And I become overwhelmed with grief.  True grief.  I have felt this kind of sorrow only one other time in my life.  "I love you.  I have loved you all my life.  I don't know how not to love you.  But if I stay with you - it will destroy me."


And so, dear friends, I am standing in unknown territory.  If there is one thing I've always known for a fact - it is that I am meant to be an actor.  It has always been clear.  And now it is not.  


I still have time left on this course to explore...and I don't discount the strength that simply going home to New York might revive.  But as a close friend just reminded me: the last 8 months in New York, the ones when I had been accepted into school and wasn't auditioning were some of the happiest she has known me to be in a long time.  So maybe this is more of a slow dawning.  I certainly don't feel reactionary.  I know to many, it seems like I had a singular bad experience and I'm overreacting.  "Don't let one show throw you!"  Trust me, I've been through bad shows before.  I've had directors that I butt heads with, teachers who have wanted to undermine my personal balance in order to create excitement in my art, bad experiences on stage.  I've been miscast, misguided, mistaken, and done jobs I'm not proud of.  But none of them has shaken my very core.  Every other negative experience has left me hungry to create better art.  This one has left me feeling like I don't have better art to give.


I still need processing time.  I not only need to digest this experience, I need more time to grow and explore.  And I don't feel like the question is answered.  If I decide to stay with acting, it will be after a long, hard consideration of whether it is capable of bringing me happiness - and MUST be accompanied by some reemergence of confidence and self-critical judgement.  If I decide to change course, then I know that theatre will stay in my life - it just will have to be redefined in what capacity.  
My friends have been quick to comfort, my family has extended their support in whatever I choose, my boyfriend has reminded me that I am going to be fine - no matter what.  I feel very blessed by the amount of love that has surrounded me.


So, ... um.... no nice little bow to wrap up this one.

Just one big question.

Faith, Here It Is...

Yep, that's me.

Looking smoking hot as my 2011 version of R&J's Nurse.

I had such a blast.  She had a completely different physical life from me.  From a released hip which resulted in a different walk, to always being on the verge of a smile, to the release gesture (as seen in the picture, rubbing hands on the thighs)...she lived in a different place than I did.  I got put in a Free Form performance group with a classmate playing Friar Lawrence, and was delighted to see the chemistry and symbiosis which arises out of two characters from the same play.  They just seem to click because they share a similar world, a similar language, a similar story.

Just a quick posting to show you what a variety of 'characters' played in our class today.  Directly behind me is Lorna Marshall...our teacher extraordinaire.  Working with her has inspired me more than I can express.  I will use what I have learned in her class for the rest of my career, and will chew on some of the insight she gave me for years and years to come.  I will miss this class, but her thoughts will continue to spring new life in me.

End of Term

First term is drawing to a close.

Tomorrow is our final assessment: movement/character study - something I am really looking forward to.  I have been investigating the Nurse (from Romeo & Juliet) with rigour and passion.  The homework:  I went through the entire play first writing down FACTS (what we know about the character: age, location, marriages, children, family life, etc).  The next section of my notebook was on OPINIONS (what other people say about my character) - for example "good nurse" "honest nurse" "O, she is lame" with who said it about you.  The third reading is to write down KEY WORDS (words that your character speaks about).  I created a chart with key word categories across the top (eg. Nature, Family, God/Religion, Body, Insult, Money, Travel, Emotions, etc.) and down the side I separated it by acts of the play.  Each time a key word in popped up in a line, I ticked the appropriate box.  This gives you a true sense of the words that your character says - words that the audience hears coming out of your mouth.  For the Nurse, it was a surprise. As much as she is usually portrayed as a wise-cracking bawdy, what actually comes out of her mouth is primarily about God, with speaking, travel and the body following.  She speaks about the body with the detachment of a medical professional - without lewd connotation.  You also get to see act-by-act how your thinking/speaking changes over the course of the play.  The final section is for INTUITIONS (anything you just have a feeling about - not supported by the text.)  This section is to allow your gut instinct a place to be released - and referred to later to see if it was correct or off-base.  The homework gives you a clear picture of what the text says.  Shakespeare writes each of his characters with a different voice.  They use different words, speak with a different musicality.  It is our pleasure as actors to mine the treasures that are in the text.

The next step was done in class - and was about putting the work IN THE BODY.  Instead of making intellectual, emotional choices - we approached it from the outside --> in.  We fed the body with the information, allowing that to inform our understanding of the character.  We brought in the first speech (or scene) of the character - the first time the character is introduced to the audience - and used it for the following exercises.  Vowels:  speak only the vowels of each of your lines.  Listen to the different vowel sounds in Lady Macbeth's first line, "Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be what thou art promis'd" and Titania's first line, "These are the forgeries of jealousy; And never, since the middle summer's spring, met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead..."  Immediately you get a strong sense of the sound and music your character uses.  Next was Scoring: we stepped out the syllables.  Does your character speak in simple, straightforward words, or use complex language and thought?  With the Nurse, it was primarily monosyllabic, "And she was wean'd - I never shall forget it - of all the days of the year upon that day."

The next three exercises are to understand the energy of thought (still using the first speech).
1.  Anywhere there is punctuation, turn 90º.
2.  Walk in between those shifts.  Is it a long walk between the thoughts, or just the turn?  How much (mental) space must you cover to make the leaps between thoughts: turn that into physical space.
3.  Wherever you walked a few paces = drop to touch the ground
Wherever you walked many paces = drop to touch the ground, and stand back up.  This exercise changes from distance between thoughts to the energy expended to jump between thoughts.
(You may find that there are certain topics that your character has to spend much more mental energy on - eg. Rosalind when talking about her father uses lots of energy, when having battle of wits she is quite at ease.  The Nurse, however, spends lots of energy just to get through a simple sentence.)

The next day of class we worked on EMBODIMENT.
Sitting with my homework notebook,  I went through all the FACTS as "I" statements, allowing them to settle.  I read through the OPINIONS, allowing them to impact me.  I went through the KEY WORDS with the most checks, to see what words I remembered and let the lips form them.  (In religion category, I might remember "Lord" "heaven" "beshrew" "Christian" "faith".)  We then went through a reverie - an imaginative journey into waking up as the character as a child.  What was the bed like? The fabric? The clothes? Breakfast? Were you still hungry or full? Activities for the day? Who says prayers with you?  Again we did the reverie waking up as the character 6 months before the play starts.

Then we moved to our feet.  We started to move as the character with clear physical choices.  Where is the weight? The breath? The focus?  How do they sit? How long do they stay still?  Are they used to carrying weapons?  What is their release gesture (lowering shoulder, sitting into hip, brushing hair out of eyes)?  We then tested this body against the first speech.  By reading the speech out loud, we changed the body as needed in response to the words.  We introduced the public vs. private self (what is the difference in weight, focus, rhythm?)  and then revisited the first speech with the public and private self explored within the text.

So....yeah...that's the prep work so that we were able to get ready for the assessment day.  We are to come in dressed as the character in 2011 London.  There is an amazing amount of freedom to dress within the parameters of 'normality' - something that wouldn't draw stares on the streets of London today.   We have chosen who we are in modern terms (for my Nurse, a New Orleans Katrina refugee working as a nanny for a wealthy family who has relocated to Chicago).  We have an interview with our teacher and 5 other of the "characters" - on modern issues (war in Iraq, gay marriage, education reform).  You quickly realise how much of the homework has worked its way into your thought process.  You know when you would speak up, and when you would keep your mouth shut.  You quickly make alliances and enemies with the other members of the panel.  You have an understanding of what issues are hot buttons for your character and which ones you have little to no opinion about.  With our group of 6 (now no longer strangers) - we spoke our CORE SPEECH.  The core speech is the speech in the play where your character is challenged; where things must change.  The core speech is spoken to and reacted off of the other people in your space.  If they move away from you, you might need to follow them, OR you might need to find someone who is supportive in the group to start speaking to.

The final (and really exciting) part is the FREE FORM.  One person in the group begins their core speech.  At any point, if something they say sparks a reaction in you, you may respond with any of your lines, in any order.  (This requires an absolute backwards-and-forwards memorisation of your core speech, by the way.)  You may say one line over and over.  You may continue through a chunk of your speech.  You may say one or two lines and stop.  The group creates a dynamic piece of theatre by reacting in the moment off of each other, using Shakespeare's text in order to respond.

I know, I know...very technical description of the exercise, but it is a very different approach for me.  I am so used to the inside --> out method of working.  To put the character in my body so strongly before any intellectual choices are made has been phenomenally exciting.

We had our scene assessments on Monday.  Just for a bit of added pressure, the casting director from the Royal Shakespeare Company was running a "mock audition" while watching the scenes.  Surprisingly, the added pressure did not amount to nerves.  It was more relaxed and confident than the assessment last term.   For this one, I did the Hamlet/Gertrude closet scene.  My scene partner was lovely.  He brought some of the best work I've seen: working in the moment, bringing passion and levels into his work.  My work?  I felt much as I have for the last two months of work:  serviceable.  I don't feel as though I have made any sorts of breakthroughs in my performance this term.  I did have a wonderful lighbulb moment when rehearsing for the Hamlet scene - we decided to do a run where we 'over-acted' it.  And I realised that I CAN'T overact this scene.  It is not reality television, it is larger than life.  It requires something more than small acting.  I've always been afraid of "acting with a capital A".  And to get away from my bad habits as a teenager, that was probably a good thing.  But equally, I cannot bring film acting to a stage version of the closet scene.  It requires SO much more.

The main discovery for me in the last few months has been much more of a personal nature.  With the amount of work that was piled on - I found myself under a crunch.  No matter how much work I did, I was always behind.  And my first instinct when I got under the gun was to slip back into the groove (ok, ok, RUT) of my former work patterns - specifically, a choke hold on it to force it into what I think it needs to be.  The sense of play, the sense of relaxation and fun ran away screaming as my stronghold came in to GET IT DONE RIGHT.  It took me about a month to realise that I was even doing it.  I looked around, noticed that I wasn't having fun anymore, and wondered what the hell happened?!?  Oh, right, my body jumped in - "I know how to deal with stress and overload!  I know!  I know!  I've done this before."  I had to gently thank it for trying to help me, and remind it that I am trying out this new approach instead.  It is very much like riding your bicycle and driving along a tram track.  Your wheels just WANT to go into the deep groove of habit.  It takes a conscious choice to pull your tires out and set along a new path.

So it is.

Disappearing Act

I've been watching all the Facebook updates from Boston and New York broadcasting the snowstorms and brutal cold.  My updates have been primarily about ibuprofen and hours logged doing homework...and we've had our own share of 10º weather.  Ok, ok... 10º celsius.  (50º fahrenheit)  At least the weather is being gentle.

I just wanted to make a quick appearance here and explain why I've been off the radar, and why you won't see me or hear from me for a while.  We started back the term with 12 hours of scenework acting classes replacing the 4 hours last term.  Both teachers expected to have scenes ready to roll from the first week, so we all set on a scramble to get memorized and rehearsed to get the kind of feedback, work and learning that we had come here for.  Both of the first two weeks also saw an added 14 hours of class time, vastly reducing the amount of time we owned outside of class hours to do preparation.

We met with our academic advisors to get feedback on the first 4000 words of our dissertation (the character study), and to get approval on our proposed ideas for the next 4000.  That research topic can be an ANYTHING - as long as it relates to our field.  (It is surprisingly difficult to narrow a topic to a manageable size when the entirety of the scope of human knowledge is available to choose from).  I have chosen to look into dreams and the unconscious creativity in approaches to acting.  I am hoping to find how exploring the use of acting out dreams and accessing the unconscious mind can open up the conscious creative choices an actor can make.  I'm making some leaps here, so I'll mostly have to focus on social psychology and then draw parallels to the acting world.  This next part of my dissertation is due in 5 weeks.

In 4 weeks, we have the dress rehearsal for our Performance Research Project.  This is a group presentation and paper presented to all of the school's MA programs, hoping to create new knowledge through a phenomenological approach.  Our group is researching mirror neurons.  Through practical experiments and audience feedback, we are hoping to show how mirror neurons connect an audience visually to the actors.  This is relatively new neuroscience, and is just beginning to be applied to the acting world.

In 3 weeks, we have two separate assessments (to grade us on our learning/growth this term): scenework and movement.  Both of these are worked on completely outside of class time.  For my scene, I'm working on Hamlet/Gertrude closet scene.  For movement, we have character work which will be assessed by coming into class as the character and being able to be interviewed - and speak improvisationally - as the character.   Yes, that means in iambic pentameter: with the type of words the character would use (monosyllabic? polysyllabic? descriptive? other-focused? direct? alliterative? rhetorical?)

In 6 weeks we begin rehearsals for Antony and Cleopatra, and must be off-book (completely memorized) before rehearsals begin.  I am excited about the show.  I've never worked on the play before, and I am double cast as Octavia and Diomedes.  Octavia is Antony's wife and Caesar's sister.  Diomedes is a man and a soldier (and I am THRILLED!)  I get to create two completely different roles, and with any luck I will be in there with the boys throwing down the heat in the battle scenes.  FUN!!

Before this countdown list of upcoming projects have arrived, we have the regular class load.  I am working on two other scenes to be presented in class.  I spent 7 or 8 hours this weekend doing written homework for movement class (for a separate assignment than our assessment).  I'm still trying to work out how to increase my vocal musicality without losing resonance and audibility in voice class.  And we have 3-6 hours a week of stage combat class in which I am simply trying to keep up.  I just bought some bamboo sticks so that I can rehearse my sword work outside of class.  The class makes me ache both in body and mind - it moves at a tremendous pace.  We very rarely revisit a concept once we have covered it once in class.  We are expected to put it into our muscle memory and add to it.  I love the class and am incredibly frustrated by it.  Frustrated because I have many moments when my brain says to do one thing and my body does something else....love because, well, I get to kick ass!  We started with hand-to-hand combat (punches, slaps, kicks, falls) and have added sword work.  We have started with fencing swords and will move on to rapier and dagger.

All this to say, when I have a day off, I have spent 10-11 hours of it doing research, rehearsal and homework.  When I come home from class (except for the 12 hour/stage combat days - when I fall directly into bed with or without dinner) I spend the remaining hours of the day doing research, rehearsal and homework.  So, nose to the grindstone, shoulder to the wheel, eye on the prize, stiff upper lip, putting my back into it....I will be diving into the work that I love and not coming up for air for the next month.

When we get into rehearsals, I look forward to going out for a drink, watching a movie or catching up on skype.  Until then...well, I wish I could say I'm thinking of you, but I'm probably thinking about mirror neurons or parry four or Emilia's relationship to Iago or something like that.

sprouting, rooting, growing

Here it is.  The end of the first term.

Christmas looms on the horizon; snow was falling in big fat flakes today.  I have piles of clothes, toiletries and Christmas gifts in staging grounds around the apartment - preparing to be packed and dragged from London to New York to South Carolina to New York and back to London.

It has been difficult to process the past few weeks of class in either a private journal or a public forum.  But it is worth poking a bit - to see if I can scare some formed thought out of it all.

We finished up our clown work last week.  Our task was to bring in a prepared clown piece in a group of three.  I had the pleasure to work with two smart, talented and enthusiastic classmates whose honest approach and sense of fun boosted my ability to play.  As I mentioned in a previous post, clowning in the Lecoq based work we were exploring is a delve into what is funny and vulnerable about YOU.  Stripped of character and barriers.  My 'sad clown' developed more deeply and personally into what is uniquely me.  That is to say, the part of me that people would laugh about behind my back was the part I embraced and highlighted in my clown.  I became a high strung perfectionist whose sadness was an inevitable devastation caused by my inability to be perfect.  Our group did a song and choreography routine to 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight' - which was appropriately train-wrecked by planned 'mistakes', which each of our clowns handled in their own way.  Much like neutral mask, the clown has to do very little to read very big....as long as it is grounded in honesty.  A small tilt of the head or a tiny step away can read volumes.  I actually have no idea how successful it was in performance.  And with our critique panel tomorrow giving feedback on our clowning and scene assessment - I wanted to start writing about this tonight more as a reflection of the work rather than the reaction.  Clowning was interesting, challenging work.  Absolutely not something that comes effortlessly to me, but worth the exploration in a way to unlock some of the social barriers that creep into my work. 

I found myself looking around my last class of the term today in a bit of shock.  Call it an old-lady moment.  We are 1/3 of the way through the course, and I was having the 'I can't believe I'm actually here doing this' moment.  Shouldn't that come in the first couple of weeks?  I guess the reflective part of my brain has been dialed down for the past few weeks, so it came as a 'new' realization - one that I know I've probably had before.  And if the reflective part has been dimmed, I would probably say that the actively engaged part has been on.  I've just been exploring.  In movement, in acting class, in clowning...I haven't been making note on all that I've been learning, because I've just been experiencing.  No major lightbulb moments...but building a new vocabulary of ideas, ways of working, ways of thinking of myself....exploring the unknown in a way that doesn't seem brave because it doesn't seem scary.  It just is what I want to be doing. 

A good place to wrap up.  Just a bit difficult when I go home and inevitably have to field the 'what have you been learning' question!

I feel a bit like a plant.  The first bit was the most difficult: breaking through my hard seed shell.  But with some moist soil, I quickly stretched toward sunlight.  Then I began to grow in both directions:  higher and deeper.  Now I am just developing.  A few more leaves, a few more roots.  Nothing to sing about in the day-to-day: but growing stronger and with each new leaf unfurled, soaking up more and more sunlight.

Dream Big

Last night's online chat to a friend in Los Angeles:

Me: So…I’ll probably NEVER put this in my blog…but I totally ROCKED my scene this past week in class.  It was the first scene (out of 9) that the teacher not only didn’t tear apart…but he really seemed to enjoy.  Score one for the older chick.

D:  Right on.

You SHOULD put that on your blog….

Me:  if I do…I know I’ll only hint at it.

That I had some reassurance.

But it is too public a forum (where my classmates and teacher could read it) to want to be too vocal about…..

Hmmm….I wonder what I don’t want people to know?

That I had a great day?  That I got recognition?  That I have an ego?

I think it is probably the fact that I don’t want to tempt the fates into slamming me back down.

That if I take credit for the ‘genius’ moments…then I have to personally claim all the failures too.  And it is more that this work is just passing through me.

I am neither the alpha nor the omega of the creative energy – just a willing vessel.

It was a great scene...it was well received.  And I found myself reticent to share it with you.  Talking it aloud with a classmate, I almost convinced myself that the reason was because I have been working on the idea of 'the work' being separate from me.  That the work is "it" and it is "out there".  That sometimes it is good and sometimes it is crap, and that doesn't mean I am good and it doesn't mean I am crap.  Getting a sense of distance from the creative work you produce gives you the ultimate freedom to try really bold choices.  When your sense of self-worth is wrapped up in the work, it makes it much harder to throw out a choice that is wild or unexpected (because it has the possibility - maybe even the likelihood - to fail that much more spectacularly).  And in the same breath that I was giving this excuse, I realized that I have no problem revealing my shortcomings, my disappointments and my failures and how they have affected me in this most public forum.

So, why do I have such a wariness about sharing the successes?

Well, that's a damn good question.

It made me think of a visualization exercise we did in one class.   It was meant to be a dream of the best possible sort.  We were asked to close our eyes and picture ourselves coming out for a curtain call at the National Theatre after a fantastic performance.  We see the audience leap to their feet in applause.  We take our bows and then head back to the dressing room.  Fans come backstage.  What do they say?  What words do they use?  The reviews come out.  What have the critics said?  We were asked to picture ourselves at an award show - which one? The Oscars? The Tonys?  BAFTA?  Drama Desk?  What is the introduction of the work we win for?  What is our acceptance speech?  

It was a question of what each artist wants - in the perfect world?  Do you crave to hear the word "genius" from a specific critic?  Do you want a little old lady to put her arm on you and quietly whisper, "You made me feel something.  Over ten years now...and I thought I'd never feel again.  But you made me feel alive"?  What is the core of your art?  

I knew specifically what each of the strangers, friends and critics said about my performance...the words I wanted to hear...but when it came to the awards show, I found myself at the event (and in a gorgeous dress) but not getting called to accept an award.  It wasn't sad or disappointing.  It was just as happy and positive-minded as the rest of my visualization.  It was just a very clear picture of what I actually prioritize in my career.  

There is a great naiveté that we as artists must stay in touch with:  "I have the RIGHT to be amazing, to be astonishing - because, actually, that is my job."

Her point in all of this was to get the warm-up to be not just a 'health-and-safety' stretch, but to transform ourselves (physically, mentally and emotionally) into the being capable of an earth-shattering performance.  The job of the actor is to be connected...so we should avoid any warm-up that allows disconnection.  For me, this was useful - in that I had always approached warm-up as a way to get from 'Caroline' to 'zero'.  To strip away all the extraneous physical gestures, vocal limitations, emotional trolls that would stand in my way in a role.  This change of thinking said that instead of bringing myself to zero, I should rev myself up to 100%.  Instead of the limited choices I may have walked into the room with....bring all the choices that I could possibly dream of...ALL of me.

Now, that lesson was important...but the bigger lesson for me was the idea of dreaming BIG.  Every time I step on stage, I should be aiming for a performance worthy of those words I heard in my imagination...the connections I made with my audience in my fantasy.  

"I want it all, George.  And there's not a chance in hell we're gonna get it all anyway...but if you don't WANT it, we've got even less chance than that." - Chapter 2, Neil Simon.  

What's Lost and Gained

I had my handbag stolen.  It was 2 feet away from me under my coat at the club.

Bank card. Drivers License. Phone. Camera. iPod. Journal.

gone.

All of it I really loved.  I had a white Blackberry Curve that matched my white ceramic Chanel watch (super chic).  I had an iPod touch had a red case with white racing stripes (given as a going away present from a dear friend back home)...and newly downloaded Angry Birds game to keep me entertained on the train.  My camera was less than a year old...and had been grabbing both keepsake travel photos as well as quick snapshots of new friends.

So it is lost. It's just stuff after all.  I keep hearing the line from Harold and Maude:


 "Well if some people get upset because they feel they have a hold on somethings. I'm just acting as a gentle reminder, here today, gone tomorrow so don't get attached to things. Now with that in mind I don't mind collecting things. I've collected quite a lot of stuff in my time. Yeah, this is all memorabilia — but it’s incidental, not integral, if you know what I mean."


The only thing I really minded losing was my journal.  I keep notes daily about classwork and discoveries both for personal reference and as a resource for the final part of my dissertation.  This was a new journal, only three weeks old.  But it still is irreplaceable.  Or is it?  I talked to a classmate today about the possibility of re-writing and seeing what had really absorbed over the past three weeks.  It might not be as detailed in description, but it might be more poignant in depth...in that it would not be the things that I simply wrote down, but that have made their way into my true understanding.


Did I lose faith in London?  Nah.  Have had things stolen in every city.  


Did I lose my experiences? My friends?  My sense of safety?  Nope.


Did I lose the fun that was to be had for the rest of the night?  No!!


What did I gain?  I gained a real life understanding of how happiness is not contingent on life going just as you planned it.  I gained a true sense of the community that does love me and reached out to help me: from the friend I had just met that night that called my bank from his phone at 3 am so that I could cancel my card, to the classmate that bought me a rose on the street corner to cheer me up, to the high school friend of my brother's that offered to wire me cash if I needed it.  I was amazed by the support and love that poured out to boost me.


So, today when I was coming home from class, gripped in a massive wave of insecurity...I started thinking about this sense of loss and gains.  I started trying to unpick what had thrown me on this sudden 'LOSS' side of thinking.


I feel like I've been working with a pretty unbound flow recently - enjoying the work - reveling in the play. I've been continuing to find new avenues for strength and exploration in my voice and movement work.  I've had my first round of clowning.  As frightened as I have been from the first week of class, when our teacher gave us the outline of the course, I knew that after neutral mask, after half mask and after commedia...I would have to face down clowning.  eep.  Give me lines.  Give me actions.  Give me a character.  But please don't put me on stage - with no guards or defenses - and ask me to be funny as Caroline!  (This clowning is based in more Lecoq style training rather than what you might think of with circus clowns.)  It is basically about tapping into what is most vulnerable and unattractive about you - personally - and showcasing it for the entertainment of others.  Sound scary?  Yeah, did to me, too.  But I found a great pleasure and challenge in the work.  Because I have worked for many years in comedy, I definitely found a comfort with the entertaining part - but that was more about my desire to work the audience than allowing them behind the mask, as it were.  As I explored, I started to edge into the realm of the 'sad clown', a vulnerable and deeply open self... and will continue to delve into it.  


Today I played a tea bag.


That's right.  A tea bag.


We were assigned to carefully study and portray an inanimate object - and portray its story: beginning, middle and end.  I know, I know...I had the same reaction at first.  I'm paying HOW MUCH MONEY to pretend to be a tea bag?  But this really wasn't one of those "be a tree...feel the wind" acting exercises.  First, it requires keen observation.  Each time I poured hot water into my cup, I found new things to try. Oh! There is an air bubble trapped inside it that keeps it moving up against the top of the cup!  Oh! When you dunk it in and out of the water, the top part exposed to the air is actually heavier than the part still in the water! The more specifics I observe in life, the more I can bring into my performance. This is true of every thing that I observe...people, ideas, objects. Secondly, it challenged the imagination.  Instead of creating an exact replica of the inanimate object, we were to embody the texture, the weight, the tempo - and allow our imagination to fill in the gaps, and to inform an interpretation when our bodies were unable to match the required action. (How do you float to the top of a cup?  How do you dangle, dripping, above the cup?)  Because my process is usually so incredibly linear: text, actions, obstacles, given circumstances etc....I have been happily exploring the non-linear, the creatively circumspect, and the imaginative inroads.  It has been part of my work over the last few weeks that has been most rewarding - and hardest to define.  


So, if the work has been good....full of exploration and creative flow...if I'm working from a sense of general gain....why do I suddenly feel at a loss?


I looked more specifically at what was underneath my insecurity, and found that it had much to do with worrying where I fit with my classmates.  I worry that even though I have felt an expansion in my approach, that it may not be received well.  I don't trust my new pathway - and if I am honest about it, it is probably because it doesn't feel earned.  I place so much value on what I've EARNED in life.  Hard work = something to be proud of.  If I'm working less directly, if I'm exploring more creatively, it is hard to feel that I have accomplished something.  It feels - what? too easy maybe?  The other part of this has to do with how work is received by an audience.  (Also known as: "Do they like me?")  I can feel that my work is going well, that I am learning and growing, that I continue to have solid work ethic and am dependable as a friend and a scene partner - but that does not mean that someone else is going to look at my finished product and like it.


And this is where I MUST let go.  I cannot control the reaction or the taste of anyone - classmates, faculty, the general paying public.  I can only do what I can to bring life onto the stage.  Specific, creative, delicious, unpredictable life.  The rest is out of my hands.