Wednesday, July 6, 2016

An Artist's Job Is to Tell the Truth

The point of seeing theatre or a movie is to feel things. That's the most basic way to explain why we go see something....to feel things. So feel them.  Our society tends to shy away from expressing emotions outwardly, but participating in theatre, whether it's as a performer or as an audience member takes a certain level of vulnerability that is crucial to the experience.

I find the magic of art is to be moved in a way that you aren't ready for.  I'm someone who isn't made of stone, so yeah, if I'm watching Toy Story 3 I'll get a little weepy, but always feel the need to hide it, or force myself to keep the emotions inside...but isn't feeling things the point of art? So I've come up with challenge for myself and you, the reader when you participate in an artistic experience...don't censor. Whether you are a performer or audience member, just be real. Tell the truth.

 I recently performed "The Mystery Edwin Drood". Our first performance was  for an audience mostly filled with senior citizens, and my instinct at that performance was "censor a little bit." Don't be SO creepy. Don't be SO sexually infatuated with Rosa. Basically, don't push it so far.  It will make this audience uncomfortable. You will be giving them something they weren't ready for, and maybe can't handle." I'm lucky my other actor on my shoulder said "Tell the truth. They've lived a lot of life. They can handle it. Whether they know it or not, feeling uncomfortable is part of the experience, and it's what they are here for"

 They can handle it. An interesting concept. As an actor, it's not your job to read the audience, their reactions and base your performance on what you think they will appreciate/understand/enjoy/be able to handle. Your job is to tell the truth. If they can't handle it, that's their problem. When you are truly moved as an audience member, it's because those in the production...the actor, directors, designers etc. are telling the truth.. Maybe in a way it hasn't been told before.

Telling the truth as an actor can mean being truthful to the character even when it's ugly. I remember this in "Parade", when I had to play someone with very different ideals than my own, living in a reality where racism, whether it's hate filled or just a part of your belief system was just a part of your reality. Sometimes going that far into playing a character you know is wrong, can require almost creating an imaginary universe for yourself onstage where whatever they are saying is the truth...to them it is. It is their viewpoint, and that's what you're representing.

I found in "Drood", it was hard to "really go there" in certain moments when I knew certain people were in the audience. It's something that is so hard to combat, even when you want to be able to say "I'm fully in character. I'm not thinking about the audience." We all know that's pretty impossible. Especially when the show has audience interaction.

I discovered in this process what that sense of discomfort really is...it's a fear of vulnerability. Censoring the performance, even just a little bit is a way to put your wall up. It's almost like a fight or flight response. If I censor and don't tell the whole truth, they won't see ME. After all, you can't borrow someone else's emotions when you act. You are either telling the truth, or you are indicating the truth. You're either making angry faces and saying your lines loud, or you're having real thoughts and motivations and tactics going on in your head, and your true emotions are flying out of you in a way that only you can do. That requires letting the audience see YOU. Not the way Will Chase, Howard McGillan, or some other actor on youtube said these lines or sang these phrases. It's letting YOUR emotion, how YOU react to things be the guide, even if it's decisions you wouldn't make, or disagree with. The only way to tell the truth is to let your emotions be the guide. What would YOU do in this imaginary circumstance? the imaginary circumstance is not just this moment, but the entire life you've been given? In case of Drood, I had to put myself in the shoes of Jasper, and say "If I were making these decisions, what life experiences would drive me to get to this point? and why do I need to say these words, do these actions NOW?

Talking about the fear of vulnerability again, it is a scary vulnerable thing to have to play out actions that are "rapey" and "creepy" when your parents are in the audience. However, I have found, and now will use as my guide in the arts, that unless you feel kind of naked onstage, kind of uncomfortable, exposed, without any shields, shells, or walls to protect you, you aren't telling the truth. On the contrary, if you feel that discomfort no matter how big it is and just go with it, challenge yourself, lean into it, you are probably doing work that is worth watching...worth reading if you're a writer, worth looking at if you're an artist, worth hearing if you are a musician. If you tell the truth in an email and you have a hesitancy to press "send", what you said probably needs to be heard, even if the aftermath is going to be something to deal with. Tell the truth.

An examploe for me of having the truth told to me in art was seeing Carousel recently. Now, I've seen Carousel many times... I've been in it, I've seen the movie,  I know it by heart, nothing about it surprises me. However, seeing it at Lyric Opera with a fresh set of eyes touched me in a way like I've never experienced. I caught myself while watching Soliloquy near the end of the first act, feeling things I've never felt. Maybe it was because I was viewing it for the first time in the age group where I might be having the same thoughts as Billy, and my instinctual thought was "don't cry. keep it together."



During intermission, I actually had the thought,"You are here to feel things. You paid money to feel things. If it happens, let it happen, encourage it, lean into it. Let yourself be swept away...The second act started, and I let it happen.



During "You'll Never Walk Alone", I sobbed. Seeing Julie so alone, having Carrie say basically that it's better for him that he died, and hearing Julie hear that, Partly, because hearing it sung by Denyce Graves was almost too much to handle. The richness, warmth of her voice was like hearing these beautiful words from the voice of an angel.


 The lyrics also hit me in a way they hadn't before. "Don't be afraid of the dark"...something you tell little kids in the literal sense, but adults need to hear sometimes as well in the figurative. What a beautiful way to support someone.... "You'll never walk alone"...You're never alone...ever. That sentiment, the same as "No one Is Alone" is so important for anyone to hear, and reminds you how lucky you are to be on the planet with the people you're with. When you lose someone, it's important to remember they are still with you, and you don't have to go through this alone.

 Normally, in the ballet, you see Louise dancing, and kind of imagine Billy watching from Heaven. tin this production, they had him watching it, so you could see his reactions. There was a bit of choreography where his daughter, Louise was possibly balancing on some rocks or a ledge, and it looked almost like a toddler taking her first steps. There are so many minor details that can be added in a production that can pull on your heartstrings...a bit of passion or warmth, or empathy in a moment where it normally lacks can make so much of a difference in the emotional impact it can have on an audience. My favorite thing is to see that; even if it's in a play that's hundreds of years old...when an actor, a director or both find something there that wasn't there before.




The final scene is always moving, but to replace the normal stage picture of Billy kneeling next to Julie, saying "I loved you Julie. Know that I loved you.", and instead actually have her touch her...HUG her, and her FEEL it....and THEN if it wasn't bad enough flower pedals that were featured at the end of the bench scene come flowing down as a sign to her....that's when a little weepy turns into UGLY CRYING. Ugly crying at the theatre is ok. It's a safe place to feel things that remind you of why life is beautiful, or sad, or unfair, or hilarious, or amazing, or whatever it it is that day. But above all, as an audience member or someone in charge of what's happening on stage, tell the truth.  That's art. Everything else is boring generalities. Make art move that people and let yourself be moved.

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