This phase of rehearsals is a curious one. The actors, essentially, know what they are doing. The thing they lack is confidence. The process of acquiring confidence has various grades. These include:
There may be others.
The first is something which is unlikely to ever be entirely resolved. A play is a series of moments, and there's always the possibility that an occasional moment has slipped the director's grasp (or even slipped the writer's grasp in the writing of it.) However, this is the bulk work of rehearsals and two weeks before the opening of a conventional stage play you would hope the production is on a firm footing with regard to this.
The second is obviously more dependent on the actors. However, it should be noted that when actors have problems with particular lines, it often represents a moment when there's still a slight lack of clarity with regard to the former point. Fosse's text is particularly dense. It's complexity makes the lines harder to learn than a more conventional drama. The process of really being on top of the lines goes hand in glove with being completely sure about where the actor 'is' on stage (not necessarily meant in a physical sense, more a metaphysical one.) Yesterday, perhaps for the first time, we finally crossed this bridge, both actors being 95% fluent with the lines and, more importantly, feeling confident that they really 'know' them.
The third point is contingent on the second. Whilst the actor is worrying about whether or not the lines are going to come out right, it's hard to really let go and surf the dialogue. Some of the best dialogue, the most dramatic, or impassioned, requires just that. It's hard to act losing your temper if you're worrying about the lines. It's hard to act losing your temper if you can't really throw yourself at it. We're at this stage now, where the actors are on the point of being able to move up through the gears, express emotion more freely, which in turn allows them to play with the colours and gradients of the dialogue, the way in which it rises towards a climax and then subsides. The musicality of Fosse's text, mentioned before, makes this phase particularly important. Without the capacity to let go, it runs the risk of feeling wooden. Charm alone can't make it work. It has to be lived, in so far as this is possible. I think we're getting there.
The final point has an obvious condition: the presence of an audience. A play isn't really alive until the audience receives it. And it's impossible to judge to what extent the play is 'working' without this audience. Which is not to say the audience necessarily has to love it. But until the actors have experienced it with the presence of an audience, the final building blocks of confidence in the work cannot be cemented.
As mentioned, we're getting there. And the key aspect of all this is to ensure that the play arrives on opening night neither underdone nor overcooked. Next Friday all shall be revealed.
- Being confident that you have a basic understanding of why you are where you are on stage and what you're supposed to be doing there.
- Being confident in the lines.
- Being confident in the capacity to move towards what we might call "performance" levels of intensity.
- Being confident in front of an audience.
There may be others.
The first is something which is unlikely to ever be entirely resolved. A play is a series of moments, and there's always the possibility that an occasional moment has slipped the director's grasp (or even slipped the writer's grasp in the writing of it.) However, this is the bulk work of rehearsals and two weeks before the opening of a conventional stage play you would hope the production is on a firm footing with regard to this.
The second is obviously more dependent on the actors. However, it should be noted that when actors have problems with particular lines, it often represents a moment when there's still a slight lack of clarity with regard to the former point. Fosse's text is particularly dense. It's complexity makes the lines harder to learn than a more conventional drama. The process of really being on top of the lines goes hand in glove with being completely sure about where the actor 'is' on stage (not necessarily meant in a physical sense, more a metaphysical one.) Yesterday, perhaps for the first time, we finally crossed this bridge, both actors being 95% fluent with the lines and, more importantly, feeling confident that they really 'know' them.
The third point is contingent on the second. Whilst the actor is worrying about whether or not the lines are going to come out right, it's hard to really let go and surf the dialogue. Some of the best dialogue, the most dramatic, or impassioned, requires just that. It's hard to act losing your temper if you're worrying about the lines. It's hard to act losing your temper if you can't really throw yourself at it. We're at this stage now, where the actors are on the point of being able to move up through the gears, express emotion more freely, which in turn allows them to play with the colours and gradients of the dialogue, the way in which it rises towards a climax and then subsides. The musicality of Fosse's text, mentioned before, makes this phase particularly important. Without the capacity to let go, it runs the risk of feeling wooden. Charm alone can't make it work. It has to be lived, in so far as this is possible. I think we're getting there.
The final point has an obvious condition: the presence of an audience. A play isn't really alive until the audience receives it. And it's impossible to judge to what extent the play is 'working' without this audience. Which is not to say the audience necessarily has to love it. But until the actors have experienced it with the presence of an audience, the final building blocks of confidence in the work cannot be cemented.
As mentioned, we're getting there. And the key aspect of all this is to ensure that the play arrives on opening night neither underdone nor overcooked. Next Friday all shall be revealed.
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