All 7 entries tagged Rehearsals
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May 22, 2008
Thomasin: Rehearsal to Performance
If I was going to be a clever-clogs, and quote the play, I could say that the move from rehearsal to performance was the move “from thinking to feeling.” It makes sense, you lay all your plans in the rehearsal, you build your parachute, over weeks and weeks, and then, when it comes to the performance, you just have to strap it to your back and jump out of the plane. It’s frightening, but it’s a hundred times more thrilling than it is scary, because the performance is just so much better than anything you have ever achieved in rehearsals. Rehearsals are safe, there is no one there to see you mess up, so it seems counterintuitive that during a performance, in front of an audience, you should push things harder, but somehow, the adrenaline makes you do it. It doesn’t make sense at all. To me, it seems comparable to someone who won’t take their clothes off in the privacy of their own bedroom, but will do so with gusto in front of a bunch of strangers. I apologise for bringing nudity into the equation, but that’s how I feel when I perform; like I am revealing a hidden or vulnerable part of my self, or my thoughts.
I am a very nervous person, and like many, before a performance, I am ridiculously, horrendously worried. Everyone’s nerves manifest themselves differently, one member of the cast, who shall remain nameless, can only regain his composure by massaging his own earlobes, and as for me, my thumbs hurt like they’ve been set on fire from the inside. Tonight, much to my shame, when Jon gave us the call to take our starting positions, I burst into tears! To calm me down, Matt Stokoe, who plays Septimus, said to me, “You’ve done this a hundred times before; you know you can do it. Imagine it’s just me and you, like we’ve practiced it,” and then stuck his tongue out and grinned!
It is true; I have done it a hundred times before. Why should the fact that there are more people watching make any difference? Initially, I do have to pretend its just the two of us, and we’re about to do a line run in Rootes, but really I am only pretending to pretend, suspending my disbelief, like the audience will have to, tricking my conscious self to split into three. One part imagining its just me and Matt; another part feeling like Thomasina, reacting to what Septimus is saying, what has happened before, what I hope will happen; and a third, prickling with fire and adrenaline, gauging the audience’s reactions, feeling when more or less is needed, knowing that this is a performance. Let’s not bring the holy trinity into it, but I need all three parts. The audience is what adds the electricity to the action; I’m not sure whether it’s the fuel or the ignition but it’s certainly essential. It goes to the heart of why I think theatre works. The tension and the interaction between the actors and the audience has a sort of magical taste to it that you can’t get in a cinema. Grotowski calls theatre a “communion” between actor and spectator. I think this use of a religious word is important; it suggests an interaction beyond the mundane, or even the tangible, and whatever words you choose to describe a good performance, there is always a certain essence which has “beggar’d all description,” like Cleopatra’s performance in her barge; not a thought, a feeling.
Thomasin Bailey plays Thomasina Coverly
May 13, 2008
Last night's rehearsal: layering time
It's getting very close to the crunch by now, and you can really feel the tension starting to build in rehearsals. Last night was our first opportunity to run a scene in the studio, and the thing that most impressed itself on us was the enormous amount of space we've got to fill. There's bloody tons of it. Our table is stranded in the middle of it all like a boat caught in a storm – especially so given the new angle it's been placed at to provide better sight lines. Most of the night was spent trying to tease out the blocking we had done in tighter spaces around the table to fill the full breadth of the studio space. It was nice to stretch Valentine's legs a bit, and Kate certainly had a good time making Lady Croom lead Noakes around upstage like a stray puppy.
We were tackling Scene 7, and it wasn't easy going. The nature of the scene's two overlapping time lines make our cues complete non-sequiturs and all the more difficult to learn. But learn we did, and aside from a few line fluffs that will without a doubt be cleared up by Thursday. Jon informs us the night's results were very strong. The trick was not to be afraid of repetition. The way to get a scene like this to work is run it through until it sticks: physical memory is a great help in this kind of situation. The interleaving of different characters' lines and movements in different time periods is starting to look sharp and stunning, particularly the final waltzing sequence between Fiona and Rob, and Matt and Thomasin. I'm quite jealous of their deft feet.
Sam Sedgman plays Valentine Coverly
May 12, 2008
Term 3 Week 2 – Is it a waltz yet?
Follow-up to Learning to waltz before we can run from Arcadia Rehearsal Blog
The cast have taken to the show incredibly well. They’ve learnt the majority of their lines already and so we’ve been spending some time working on adding texture to the scenes. As we rehearse I’ll ask the actors to stop and think out loud about what they’re saying in character. The exercise forces the actors to think about the motivation behind what they’re saying as well as working through the more complex ideas. It’s also helped me work out where some of the jokes I’ve missed are and how we might incorporate them.
The blocking is still a little sketchy; I’m worried about people being trapped behind the table but this is something we can address next week once everyone is completely off book. I took Scene 1 to the Art of Directing last week precisely for this reason; everyone is on stage and because of the status of the characters and the layout of the space they ended up in a rough semi-circle which is less than ideal. I’m working on this with the actors this week and between us I’m sure we’ll work out something that looks natural without being too static or blocky.
We finished the week with a full run of the show and I was blown away. I deliberately didn’t say anything after the end of the first half and gave a break straight after the end of the run. By not immediately giving feedback the cast spent their lunch and tea break discussing how they felt the performance had gone and I’m convinced that they achieved far more that way than if I’d given them an hour’s worth of notes. We definitely had something we could show at the end of Week 2; it wouldn’t have been brilliant but people would have still enjoyed it. This has given us a very strong position to work from. It’s a little like a making a colouring book. We have the outlines of the images and now need to add colour and shading.
It’s not quite a waltz yet but it’s well on its way.
May 11, 2008
Learning to waltz before we can run
For me, last Saturday was the first point that the play came together. Up until this point the cast had been separated into two sections; 1809 and 1993. Suffice to say, a notable level of friendly rivalry arose, as both groups were adamant that their section of the play was better, and more professional than the other. However, it was on this particular Saturday that the entire cast was granted the opportunity to watch and contribute to a run-through of the entire performance. The 1809 cast sat in awe of the 1993 cast’s incredibly complex and expertly textured dialogue, whilst the 1993 cast immersed themselves in the 1809 cast’s light-hearted portrayal of the original inhabitants of Sidley park, and the trials and tribulations they experience.
As well as this mammoth run-through, Thomasin, Fiona, Rob and I were all invited to an hour-long waltzing lesson with Russell Jones. We were quickly separated into pairs, and began to persevere through trodden toes and unintentional manhandling. This was not only the first time that I’d had to learn a dance for a production, but also the first time that I’d ever had to learn a dance that wasn’t “the robot”. Yet, my fellow cast members surprised me with their tenacity and eagerness to learn; all four of us agreeing that the waltz was something that we could take away from the play, and no doubt use in the future.
All in all, it was an incredibly productive day. The walk home from rehearsals had become a waltz home, and the stakes had been raised even higher between 1809 and 1993.
Matt Stokoe plays Septimus Hodge
Take a look at the photos from this rehearsal »
May 03, 2008
More rehearsal photos online
Keep an eye on what's been happening in the rehearsal this week.
Take a look at the rehearsal photography.
April 27, 2008
Week 2: Et in Arcadia ego
Starting a production is always difficult. As the director you know the show inside out, you and your team have spent ages preparing all those really exciting ideas and you’re finally seeing and hearing people do the roles that you’ve only read on the page. The cast, however, probably don’t know each other that well, almost certainly don’t know the play and they’re looking for the Director to prove that he can actually lead this production successfully.
There’s no reason for these two ideas to be contradictory and so the opening two weeks were crucial for Arcadia (as they are in every production) in not only establishing everything mentioned above but also putting us in a strong enough position to leap into it after a five-week break. If I had one concern during the first week of rehearsals it was that we weren’t very active as a group and spent a lot of time talking about what was going on, understanding the jokes and references and trying to get inside the characters insofar as they are symbols and representations of larger ideas that span the play. However, the success of our first week back is, I think, larger thanks to that approach. We’ve been able to rehearse a scene or two per rehearsal (so we’ve done six scenes this week) and because the cast understand the context of the scene as both adhering to the play’s own internal logic and what we’re trying to achieve as a production we’re able to start by bringing texture to what we’re doing.
Speaking broadly, this week has been trying to achieve two things: firstly, to complete the blocking of the play insofar as I’ve written ideas down that I really want to see enacted (I object to telling people just to walk a little bit upstage or downstage; they’ll find their own ideas in the rhythm of the scene which will look more natural than anything I would have consciously prepared) and secondly to start bringing ideas in about character and about how an individual line links to the play as a whole. To give an example, Chater reads his inscription of ‘The Couch of Eros’ centre-stage behind the table. Bernard will read the same inscription in the next scene, in the same way and in the same place. Chater and Bernard are now inextricably linked not only by both being foolish and proud but by their spatial and temporal fixings in the space and even in their delivery; I’m giving the audience clues…
Another example springs to mind. Where Thomasina and Septimus sit initially defines the spatial power relationships within the play: stronger intellects SR and weaker SL. At the end, when Thomasina has finally outstripped Septimus, they swap places to convey the shift physically as well as through the narrative. This is a device that echoes throughout the play; where people have sat or stood has been a direct comment on them: how well they are faring in terms of power, status, intelligence, prudence and wit.
Arcadia is brilliant for this kind of approach. Time and space merge to allow me this kind of creative mise-en-scène. At the same time, now that we’ve blocked the play with this in mind the next week will be about challenging that and seeing where the stresses are in order to bring a greater depth to the play. And there’s still plenty of character work to do. I’ll describe more about that next time though. Until then…
See photos of this week's rehearsals »
The story so far
Rehearsals for Arcadia began in the last week of Term 2. After eleven and a half hours of individual auditions, Rob Marks, the director, and I had found a cast that we were both excited about and we were chomping at the bit to get them into the rehearsal room and begin to see materialize what had previously only existed in our minds.
One of the joys of Stoppard’s work is the clarity and lightness with which it presents complex and apparently incongruous ideas. In Arcadia, for example, an audience is presented with ideas of Romanticism and Enlightenment, heat exchange and chaos theory, alongside philosophical musings on the nature of time and the sexual proclivity of early nineteenth century aristocracy and modern-day academics. To explain how these multifarious topics intertwine is an unenviable task and certainly not one I will attempt here. I maintain that the only explanation is the play itself – the peculiarity is, once you know the play, it’s difficult to think of Romanticism without the butterfly effect and so on.
The richness of ideas and the vitality of the characterizations and narratives of the play, whilst hugely rewarding to a reader and an audience member, give the performer a tough challenge to face. For the first week of our work, we focused on creating two banks of knowledge for the actors: (1) what the characters know and when they know it; (2) an understanding of the dramaturgical purpose of each character. In planning these early rehearsals, what we did not anticipate was much how fun this seemingly academic exercise would be.
Rather than baulking at our investigations both within and outside the rehearsal room, the cast leapt upon the discoveries and the result is already visible in rehearsal. The day we decided to have a go at performing characters who are referenced but never in the play – including the sexually insatiable Mrs Chater – is going to stick with all involved for a long time to come … for better or for worse.