The first day of spring looms and I'm thinking about new beginnings. Not original - but seasonally appropriate.
The Stanislavsky books remain on my bookshelf - I should return them to the library.
When I first rocked up to the Actors Centre I spoke at length with one of the teachers who told me that I would get more out of *watching* plays for the next year than a hard, fast training and taste test of the industry.
He was right.
The acting gig hasn't fallen completely by the wayside - however I did purchase season tickets to the Sydney Theatre Company.
I've managed to get to most all of the Mainstage productions - finances prevented me from indulging further. I do hold out hope for the 2nd half of the year though.
The trips to the theatre have been somewhat of a lifesaver. Being keenly broke left me with limited options for fun and frivolity - seeing a play once a month made the lack of movies, dinners and gigs less acute. It's kept me thinking and active.
And a massive Tom Stoppard fangirl. :)
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Restraint
I'm reading 'How to build a character' Classic Stanislavski.
The form is that of a diary of his time at acting school in Russia. His acting school is somewhat more hardcore than my current short course at the AC. There is a chapter on the virtue of 'Restraint'. This is a virtue certainly one I need to acquire and in his example he uses the contrast of two conductors of his time.
On my list of things to do before I die (you know the list, sky diving, have kids, go to Paris, etc etc) is to Conduct an orchestra.
I learned violin for close to a decade in my youth. I was terrible. Let's be clear. I almost never practiced and moving around so much meant I never had a consistent tutor or group to play with. By the time I attended Blackwood high I was playing second violin with a group of about 8 accomplished musicians. They were all my age and much better than me (at music anyway). I cringe at what I must have put them through. I was rarely on cue or key. My timing was erratic and I never quite got how to tune by ear. This was purely a case of self discipline - and I didn't have any. I was struggling with scales and Greensleeves while my strings group were effortlessly playing Mozart. I kept trying though. I just hated being alone and music practice is a so very solitary. I did love playing with that group, I despised myself for constantly letting them down. I'll add here I was 14 years old, so I think we can throw in some teenage angst to the experience as well.
Pachabel's Canon (D major) was my Everest. It still is.
Because once. Just *once* I got it. I played with my group. The music flowed between us. From first violin to second, to viola onto cello and double bass and back to first. As a round the complexity of the melody and counterpoint flowed between us all. I will hold in my heart forever that feeling of flow and music.
Another of my favourite pieces is the 1812. You know the one. It has the cannons and fireworks.
Whenever I attend a symphony performance I am transfixed by the conductor. He/She is the focal point for all that music. If you've ever seen a conductor's score you'll have an idea of just how much they're putting together when up there. They dance and paint and bring forth the power of all those individual musicians.
Each instrument making it's own sound, complimenting their group, string and brass and woodwind and percussion and keyboards. Over 100 sounds coming together into one whole piece of music, focused through that individual at the front. Their back is to you the audience, you do not see their face, they do not gauge the audience. The conductor belongs to the orchestra, to the music.
I'll quote here what Stanislavsi says on the topic of restaint. He describes perfectly why I want to conduct an orchestra one day.
... We need only apply the slightest touch or two to make a role come to life, to reach its finished form. Without those slightest of touches it will lack the brilliance of a perfect finish.
"Yet how often we see a role on the stage that is quite lacking in that slightest touch. It may be well worked out and one still misses that all-important element. A talented director may come along and drop just a word, the actor will catch fire and his role will grow with all the colours of his soul's prism.
"This brings to mind the conductor of a military band who was well known mainly because he used to walk along the boulevards every day beating out whole concerts with his arms. Leading his band he used the same tempo. In the beginning when your attention was drawn by the sounds, you would listen, but in five minutes you would only be watching the automatic movements of his baton and seeing the whites pages of his score, as he methodically turned leaf after leaf with his left hand. Now he was not a poor musician. His band was a good one and was well known through out the city. Yet his music was uncompelling because the most important element -- its inner content -- was never revealed and never reached the listeners. All the component parts of each piece of music were precisely and smoothly performed. They followed one another, however, in such indistinguishable form that the listeners could now tell them apart or understand them. Each part lacked the desired touch which would have given a finish to it and to the work as a whole.
"We have many actors on our stages who beat out their parts in this same way, going through whole plays with the same sweep and paying no attention to the necessary 'touch' that provides 'finish'.
"In contrast to my recollection of this baton-waving conductor I remember Arthur Nikisch, small of stature but a great musician who could say far more with sounds than most people can with words.
"With the tiny tip of his baton he drew an ocean of sound from his orchestra with which he painted broad musical pictures
"Nor should we forget how Nikisch, before the performance began, looked all his musicians over with meticulous care, then waited until absolute silence fell in the hall before raising his baton and concentrating on its tip the attention of the entire orchestra and audience. At that instant his baton said Attention! I am about to begin!
"Even in this preparatory moment Nikisch possessed that intangible 'touch' which so beautifully completed his every motion. To Nikisch there was something precious in every whole note, eighth and sixteenth note, every dot, and the mathematically precise counterpoint, the delicious naturals, the dissonances even and the harmony. All this was performed by him with great relish, without fear of dragging. Nikisch never lost track of a single sound, never failed to give it full value. With his baton he extracted everything that could be drawn from the instruments and from the very souls of his musicians. Meantime his left hand was was working with the expressive colouring of a painter's brush, now smoothing and now slowing the music, now rousing and increasing it. What remarkable restraint he possessed, as well as mathematical precision, which did not interfere with but encouraged his inspiration. His tempi were on the same high level. His lento was far from monotonous, boring, long drawn out like the tone of a bagpipe, the way the bandmaster hammered it out like the ticking of a metronome. Nikisch's slow tempo contained within itself the rapid ones. He never hurried the music or held it back. It was only at the end, when all had been said, that Nikisch would hasten or slow the tempo in order either to catch up what had been help up or to return to what an earlier intentionally quick tempo had taken away. For this he had prepared a musical phrase in a new tempo. He seemed to say, 'Never hurry! Express everything that is concealed in the music.' Now we come to the very apex of the phrase! Who could foretell how he would set the crown on the whole work? Would it be new, great slow movement or, on the contrary, would he give it an unexpectedly bold, quick, emphatic ending?
"Of how many conductors can one say that he knew how to penetrate into, guess at and catch all the fine shadings of a piece of music and do to it what Nikisch did with such sensitivity, not only cull them out but also to convey and illume them for the public? Nikisch did it because his work was performed not only with magnificent restraint but also with brilliantly keen finish.
Perhaps in my interest of conducting an orchestra, I touched upon that point of restraint.
Of showmanship and art combined with skill, discipline and precision.
The form is that of a diary of his time at acting school in Russia. His acting school is somewhat more hardcore than my current short course at the AC. There is a chapter on the virtue of 'Restraint'. This is a virtue certainly one I need to acquire and in his example he uses the contrast of two conductors of his time.
On my list of things to do before I die (you know the list, sky diving, have kids, go to Paris, etc etc) is to Conduct an orchestra.
I learned violin for close to a decade in my youth. I was terrible. Let's be clear. I almost never practiced and moving around so much meant I never had a consistent tutor or group to play with. By the time I attended Blackwood high I was playing second violin with a group of about 8 accomplished musicians. They were all my age and much better than me (at music anyway). I cringe at what I must have put them through. I was rarely on cue or key. My timing was erratic and I never quite got how to tune by ear. This was purely a case of self discipline - and I didn't have any. I was struggling with scales and Greensleeves while my strings group were effortlessly playing Mozart. I kept trying though. I just hated being alone and music practice is a so very solitary. I did love playing with that group, I despised myself for constantly letting them down. I'll add here I was 14 years old, so I think we can throw in some teenage angst to the experience as well.
Pachabel's Canon (D major) was my Everest. It still is.
Because once. Just *once* I got it. I played with my group. The music flowed between us. From first violin to second, to viola onto cello and double bass and back to first. As a round the complexity of the melody and counterpoint flowed between us all. I will hold in my heart forever that feeling of flow and music.
Another of my favourite pieces is the 1812. You know the one. It has the cannons and fireworks.
Whenever I attend a symphony performance I am transfixed by the conductor. He/She is the focal point for all that music. If you've ever seen a conductor's score you'll have an idea of just how much they're putting together when up there. They dance and paint and bring forth the power of all those individual musicians.
Each instrument making it's own sound, complimenting their group, string and brass and woodwind and percussion and keyboards. Over 100 sounds coming together into one whole piece of music, focused through that individual at the front. Their back is to you the audience, you do not see their face, they do not gauge the audience. The conductor belongs to the orchestra, to the music.
I'll quote here what Stanislavsi says on the topic of restaint. He describes perfectly why I want to conduct an orchestra one day.
... We need only apply the slightest touch or two to make a role come to life, to reach its finished form. Without those slightest of touches it will lack the brilliance of a perfect finish.
"Yet how often we see a role on the stage that is quite lacking in that slightest touch. It may be well worked out and one still misses that all-important element. A talented director may come along and drop just a word, the actor will catch fire and his role will grow with all the colours of his soul's prism.
"This brings to mind the conductor of a military band who was well known mainly because he used to walk along the boulevards every day beating out whole concerts with his arms. Leading his band he used the same tempo. In the beginning when your attention was drawn by the sounds, you would listen, but in five minutes you would only be watching the automatic movements of his baton and seeing the whites pages of his score, as he methodically turned leaf after leaf with his left hand. Now he was not a poor musician. His band was a good one and was well known through out the city. Yet his music was uncompelling because the most important element -- its inner content -- was never revealed and never reached the listeners. All the component parts of each piece of music were precisely and smoothly performed. They followed one another, however, in such indistinguishable form that the listeners could now tell them apart or understand them. Each part lacked the desired touch which would have given a finish to it and to the work as a whole.
"We have many actors on our stages who beat out their parts in this same way, going through whole plays with the same sweep and paying no attention to the necessary 'touch' that provides 'finish'.
"In contrast to my recollection of this baton-waving conductor I remember Arthur Nikisch, small of stature but a great musician who could say far more with sounds than most people can with words.
"With the tiny tip of his baton he drew an ocean of sound from his orchestra with which he painted broad musical pictures
"Nor should we forget how Nikisch, before the performance began, looked all his musicians over with meticulous care, then waited until absolute silence fell in the hall before raising his baton and concentrating on its tip the attention of the entire orchestra and audience. At that instant his baton said Attention! I am about to begin!
"Even in this preparatory moment Nikisch possessed that intangible 'touch' which so beautifully completed his every motion. To Nikisch there was something precious in every whole note, eighth and sixteenth note, every dot, and the mathematically precise counterpoint, the delicious naturals, the dissonances even and the harmony. All this was performed by him with great relish, without fear of dragging. Nikisch never lost track of a single sound, never failed to give it full value. With his baton he extracted everything that could be drawn from the instruments and from the very souls of his musicians. Meantime his left hand was was working with the expressive colouring of a painter's brush, now smoothing and now slowing the music, now rousing and increasing it. What remarkable restraint he possessed, as well as mathematical precision, which did not interfere with but encouraged his inspiration. His tempi were on the same high level. His lento was far from monotonous, boring, long drawn out like the tone of a bagpipe, the way the bandmaster hammered it out like the ticking of a metronome. Nikisch's slow tempo contained within itself the rapid ones. He never hurried the music or held it back. It was only at the end, when all had been said, that Nikisch would hasten or slow the tempo in order either to catch up what had been help up or to return to what an earlier intentionally quick tempo had taken away. For this he had prepared a musical phrase in a new tempo. He seemed to say, 'Never hurry! Express everything that is concealed in the music.' Now we come to the very apex of the phrase! Who could foretell how he would set the crown on the whole work? Would it be new, great slow movement or, on the contrary, would he give it an unexpectedly bold, quick, emphatic ending?
"Of how many conductors can one say that he knew how to penetrate into, guess at and catch all the fine shadings of a piece of music and do to it what Nikisch did with such sensitivity, not only cull them out but also to convey and illume them for the public? Nikisch did it because his work was performed not only with magnificent restraint but also with brilliantly keen finish.
Perhaps in my interest of conducting an orchestra, I touched upon that point of restraint.
Of showmanship and art combined with skill, discipline and precision.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Method
I have an audition on Saturday. I had been revising the Kimba piece (Westie Monolouges) for it. But given how my week is going to turn out, I think I'll switch to the graveside scene from Black Rock.
I've been reading up on Stanislavsky. A week or two ago in drama class we did a Method acting(lite) lesson. Each class is only 3 hours and well, it's an intense exercise. It was the first time I really felt stretched. There were four words printed on each of the four walls of the room.
Fear, Anger, Sadness, Joy.
We were instructed to stand in front of each in turn and contemplate the words.
What they mean. What they look like. How they make us feel.
And then to 'experience' each, not behave as if we did, not to act them.
Just to within ourselves find those emotions. It was hard. I use fear, anger and sadness as tools. I manipulate them to my advantage.
I use Sadness as motivation to change, to move.
I use Fear to unpack, to explore and learn.
I use Anger to protect and defend myself.
But Joy? It was the hardest of them all - at first.
Joy to me has so many elements in it's creation. It happens so rarely, which what makes it so special. I found it hard to find my own Joy. Not vicarious Joy (like when I'm happy that some one got married, or joy at the birth of a child) but Joy of my own.
It took serious exploration. I searched my memory and worked to relive times, places, events. And for a fleeting, brief moment I found it.
As I passed by the other three words it occurred to me I wasn't feeling them. I was analysing them. Merely deconstructing what I use them for. I then tried to feel them too. And that got harder still. I have trained myself for so long to use these emotions that to just *experience* them for their own sake was doubly as hard as finding my Joy.
I have some Un-training to do.
I asked my teacher why he picked those specific words. Why Anger and not Rage, Sadness instead of Grief. It was an arbitrary selection. He then recommended I read up on Stanislavsky.
He's hardcore. If I thought Italian semiotics was a brain bender, Russian drama theory tops it.
I've been reading up on Stanislavsky. A week or two ago in drama class we did a Method acting(lite) lesson. Each class is only 3 hours and well, it's an intense exercise. It was the first time I really felt stretched. There were four words printed on each of the four walls of the room.
Fear, Anger, Sadness, Joy.
We were instructed to stand in front of each in turn and contemplate the words.
What they mean. What they look like. How they make us feel.
And then to 'experience' each, not behave as if we did, not to act them.
Just to within ourselves find those emotions. It was hard. I use fear, anger and sadness as tools. I manipulate them to my advantage.
I use Sadness as motivation to change, to move.
I use Fear to unpack, to explore and learn.
I use Anger to protect and defend myself.
But Joy? It was the hardest of them all - at first.
Joy to me has so many elements in it's creation. It happens so rarely, which what makes it so special. I found it hard to find my own Joy. Not vicarious Joy (like when I'm happy that some one got married, or joy at the birth of a child) but Joy of my own.
It took serious exploration. I searched my memory and worked to relive times, places, events. And for a fleeting, brief moment I found it.
As I passed by the other three words it occurred to me I wasn't feeling them. I was analysing them. Merely deconstructing what I use them for. I then tried to feel them too. And that got harder still. I have trained myself for so long to use these emotions that to just *experience* them for their own sake was doubly as hard as finding my Joy.
I have some Un-training to do.
I asked my teacher why he picked those specific words. Why Anger and not Rage, Sadness instead of Grief. It was an arbitrary selection. He then recommended I read up on Stanislavsky.
He's hardcore. If I thought Italian semiotics was a brain bender, Russian drama theory tops it.
The Music Video
Well a fair bit has been going on lately.
I had the music video shoot weekend before last. Which started out with a fire gig over in Mosman on Friday night. I missed the last ferry home and ended up staying at the party until sunrise. Not a brilliant move but I'm a girl on a tight budget and a cab home is way out of my league, thankfully a friend did spring for my ride home and I didn't have to wait for the ferry plus the bus to make it to my front door.
So my role in the clip was 'vintage' not many more specifics than that. 50's bathing suit and pre-curled hair. The Bathers I thought I had no problem, I have a cute boy-leg + halter top ensemble. The hair... that's another thing. It took several practice tries before I was confident I could Pin Curl my whole head. I just wasn't prepared for just how much hair I have. It took 5 hours to do, with my friend's help and by the time I made it to the shoot it still wasn't dry. So without any sleep, (glad I've been practicing that all my life) I rock up at the studio in Coogee in my bikini ready to go. Sadly as my bathers are black (as with all most everything I own) they weren't right for the look and they put me in a different costume. I didn't feel I could really argue the costume choice. And you'll all see what I mean when the clip gets out of post.
The shoot its self was fun. Really campy 'Price is Right' type stuff. I'm the girl in front who gets to stay on the banana lounge the whole time. That was fine for whenever they cut. I just lay back down. But for movement shots I was doing nothing but stomach crunches and making it look like dancing. We'll see how successful that turns out too :P
We wandered down to the CBH for a drink when I hit the wall. My hair was teased out into a pouff of curls. Think Magenta from Rocky Horror. I barely managed to tie it back at all. No time (or facilities) to wash the make up off. We (the cast) all looked quite a sight to be wandering around nice trendy Coogee :) I hit the sleepy-tireds wall after one drink and headed home. I got some very strange looks on the way. Thank gods it was Mardi Gras eve so I didn't look too out of place as I neared the city. I did get a shock anytime I saw my silhouette though. I've been combating big hair all my adult life - and it was HUGE. heh. The pictures are on facebook.
I had enough time to wash my hair and fall asleep from exhaustion and I think I managed to eat something. I was so tired by this stage it's kinda blurry.
Sunday was a well earned sleep in. More food and putting my hair back up for the location shoot the next day. This time it took even longer as I didn't have the help. Six hours, 80 pin curls and a whole season of Enterprise later and I'm ready to go back to sleep. I had a 4 am start. To get to Kings X by 6am for the car pool to Pittwater for a 7.30 am start. Yes I was on time.
The outdoor shoot was a blast. The studio had four girls (including me) the lead guy and the band. There's a transition shot to a beach party. Then there were many many more of us. This time they had real dancers - burlesque and show girls. All of whom put my costume and make up range to shame. I seriously need to invest in better vintage gear. SERIOUSLY. Again I'm on the the lounge in front of the band. I'm kinda hard to miss. I may have lost some hearing being in front of the drum kit and next to the playback amp. The other performers were lovely and helped me find new ways for 'dancing' while sitting. It still meant more stomach crunches but I'm OK with that. My abs are nice and strong.
We had one point where we were all dancing on a small yacht as it sailed around. That's one for the 'Crazy shit I never thought I'd do' list. This is where my costume really let me down. It was 5 sizes too big, a onesy and the absolutely wrong shape for me. I'll just make sure I invest in a better range of bikini's for the future.
I learned heaps from the other performers. First of all to put my measurements in my casting profile. Otherwise It's assumed I'll have something to hide. And I don't. My body's fine. Not a dancers body but I'm not worried walking around at the beach either. Also to lie about my age. This I'm not so happy with. I am losing stuff on the net sites due to the auto-filter. But I'd rather dramatic roles at 30 than bikini roles at 25. There's no option to *not* put my date of birth in.
I also learned the valuable lesson of rollers. My hair is too long and thick for pin curls to be effective. I need rollers and to practice my vintage hair-do's. And that a make up course would be a sound investment. One of those courses that might cost $300 but I'd get a solid kit of basic make up supplies, tools and taught how to put the bloody stuff on. It makes me realise I've actually been finger painting my face all these years.
The band is these guys http://www.chasethesunband.com/ the song is "Living Free".
Watch this space, I'll be linking to it when it's released. :)
More later on drama classes, my trip to America, overcoming Aphasia, creating my own voice reel and Screen Tests a-plenty.
I had the music video shoot weekend before last. Which started out with a fire gig over in Mosman on Friday night. I missed the last ferry home and ended up staying at the party until sunrise. Not a brilliant move but I'm a girl on a tight budget and a cab home is way out of my league, thankfully a friend did spring for my ride home and I didn't have to wait for the ferry plus the bus to make it to my front door.
So my role in the clip was 'vintage' not many more specifics than that. 50's bathing suit and pre-curled hair. The Bathers I thought I had no problem, I have a cute boy-leg + halter top ensemble. The hair... that's another thing. It took several practice tries before I was confident I could Pin Curl my whole head. I just wasn't prepared for just how much hair I have. It took 5 hours to do, with my friend's help and by the time I made it to the shoot it still wasn't dry. So without any sleep, (glad I've been practicing that all my life) I rock up at the studio in Coogee in my bikini ready to go. Sadly as my bathers are black (as with all most everything I own) they weren't right for the look and they put me in a different costume. I didn't feel I could really argue the costume choice. And you'll all see what I mean when the clip gets out of post.
The shoot its self was fun. Really campy 'Price is Right' type stuff. I'm the girl in front who gets to stay on the banana lounge the whole time. That was fine for whenever they cut. I just lay back down. But for movement shots I was doing nothing but stomach crunches and making it look like dancing. We'll see how successful that turns out too :P
We wandered down to the CBH for a drink when I hit the wall. My hair was teased out into a pouff of curls. Think Magenta from Rocky Horror. I barely managed to tie it back at all. No time (or facilities) to wash the make up off. We (the cast) all looked quite a sight to be wandering around nice trendy Coogee :) I hit the sleepy-tireds wall after one drink and headed home. I got some very strange looks on the way. Thank gods it was Mardi Gras eve so I didn't look too out of place as I neared the city. I did get a shock anytime I saw my silhouette though. I've been combating big hair all my adult life - and it was HUGE. heh. The pictures are on facebook.
I had enough time to wash my hair and fall asleep from exhaustion and I think I managed to eat something. I was so tired by this stage it's kinda blurry.
Sunday was a well earned sleep in. More food and putting my hair back up for the location shoot the next day. This time it took even longer as I didn't have the help. Six hours, 80 pin curls and a whole season of Enterprise later and I'm ready to go back to sleep. I had a 4 am start. To get to Kings X by 6am for the car pool to Pittwater for a 7.30 am start. Yes I was on time.
The outdoor shoot was a blast. The studio had four girls (including me) the lead guy and the band. There's a transition shot to a beach party. Then there were many many more of us. This time they had real dancers - burlesque and show girls. All of whom put my costume and make up range to shame. I seriously need to invest in better vintage gear. SERIOUSLY. Again I'm on the the lounge in front of the band. I'm kinda hard to miss. I may have lost some hearing being in front of the drum kit and next to the playback amp. The other performers were lovely and helped me find new ways for 'dancing' while sitting. It still meant more stomach crunches but I'm OK with that. My abs are nice and strong.
We had one point where we were all dancing on a small yacht as it sailed around. That's one for the 'Crazy shit I never thought I'd do' list. This is where my costume really let me down. It was 5 sizes too big, a onesy and the absolutely wrong shape for me. I'll just make sure I invest in a better range of bikini's for the future.
I learned heaps from the other performers. First of all to put my measurements in my casting profile. Otherwise It's assumed I'll have something to hide. And I don't. My body's fine. Not a dancers body but I'm not worried walking around at the beach either. Also to lie about my age. This I'm not so happy with. I am losing stuff on the net sites due to the auto-filter. But I'd rather dramatic roles at 30 than bikini roles at 25. There's no option to *not* put my date of birth in.
I also learned the valuable lesson of rollers. My hair is too long and thick for pin curls to be effective. I need rollers and to practice my vintage hair-do's. And that a make up course would be a sound investment. One of those courses that might cost $300 but I'd get a solid kit of basic make up supplies, tools and taught how to put the bloody stuff on. It makes me realise I've actually been finger painting my face all these years.
The band is these guys http://www.chasethesunband.com/ the song is "Living Free".
Watch this space, I'll be linking to it when it's released. :)
More later on drama classes, my trip to America, overcoming Aphasia, creating my own voice reel and Screen Tests a-plenty.
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