Titus Andronicus

I am in mid-rehearsal,playing the leading role in Shakespeare's earliest tragedy, Titus Andronicus, to be staged at the Ramshorn Theatre in Glasgow from Fri 29 May- Sat 6 June, and I would love anyone who's interested to come along and check it out. With less than two weeks to go it's perhaps still too early to say how good it'll be. As it is I'm really only just off book and we finished our first full run-through just a couple of days ago, but it's seems to be shaping up well apart from the odd bit of over-acting (mostly from me, it has to be said- although the piece does seem to merit it!).

TITUS: "Art thou Revenge?.. Welcome, dread Fury, to my woeful house." (V ii)

(with Frankie MacEachen as my nemesis, Tamora)

TITUS: "And in the emperor's court there is a queen attended by a Moor." (V i)

(Daniel Sweetman as Aaron and Frankie MacEachen as his lover, Tamora)

TITUS: "I am the sea; hark how her sighs do blow..." (III i)

(with Natalie Clark as my daughter Lavinia)

The storyline is extremely straightforward and even for those dyed-in-the-wool Bardophobes among you it's a highly entertaining romp about vigillante violence, serial rape, vengeance and homicide, ritual dismemberment, assisted suicide and slaughter. It is by turns disturbing, hilarious, heart-breaking and thrilling. Imagine, if you will, Quentin Tarantino in blank verse. Do come!

Fun, fun, fun for all the family!
:-)

Love @ the Bothy, and Titus Andronicus

I have been attending the Actors’ Bothy at the CCA every week for almost two years now. It helped me through difficult times, especially when I first joined and it helped restore my confidence after the company I had helped to found had fallen to bits. Going along for the first time, feeling very vulnerable, forlorn and lonely took a lot of guts, but I am very grateful for how welcome they made me feel. I have since remained a loyal member and during the time I have been attending I definitely feel I have matured as an artist, as a soul, and I feel they have played at least some part in re-stimulating some of my belief in myself as an artist. I’ve grown quite fond of many of the other actors. I look forward to meeting up with the friends I've made there, indulging in social gossip/networking when sharing a beer or two in the bar afterwards, as much as the classes themselves. The staple work we do there under the auspices of the Bothy’s founder, Jimmy Watson, consists of Sanford Meisner repetition exercises. Now I must confess I have only a fitful regard for this particular approach, and find its of limited use, but I continue to attend each week, trusting that the exercises are doing me some good anyway at some level or other. Besides, every now and again we get to do other stuff, e.g. Michael Chekhov (including archetypes and centres and psychological gesture and ensemble-building exercises in the weeks I get to lead), or maybe Rudolf Laban, objectives and super-objectives, play-reading or unitting texts, Practical Aesthetics, improvisation skills, physical theatre or Complicité games. Yesterday, in Jimmy’s absence, Anne Lothian was leading half a dozen of us in a fascinating workshop, the theme of which was actors’ ways and means of accessing and/or generating feelings. Usually I prefer to think of stage emotion as something bred as a natural by-product of executing actions. I have become less and less able to access or employ personal/so-called ‘emotional' memories to fuel feeling states for my characters the older I get. I rely on physical action and sensation, qualities of movement and centres in the imaginary body to coax feelings from the heart that are much more universal and complete somehow. This is a far more dependable and much safer way for me than attempting to remember how it felt splitting up with an ex-girlfriend, or getting my dog put down when I was 14! But we all have our different ways, and there was some discussion about this “Method and madness”, Diderot blah blah blah thing amongst the participants at the start of the evening. But then after a vigorous group warm-up and an exercise in commenting on each others’ posture, body language and physical habits, with each actor taking it in turns to stand in front of our peers to be observed for 5 minutes, we devoted the rest of our time to a fantastic but very simple paired exercise.

As Anne herself said afterwards, its great that we have the luxury of time to explore ideas and techniques. You just don't get that opportunity in rehearsals. So sitting opposite our partner we were asked to repeat a given a ‘feeling statement’, to be directed with increasing levels of intensity, using the simple objective of making ourselves believable/believed by our partner, e.g. “I miss you”, “I detest you” or “You embarrass me”. Since there were so few of us in attendance we had an opportunity to observe the other pairs, rather all do it at the same time, before Lindsey McNab and I finally got up to do the exercise.

She was given the statement “I’m scared”. Starting from a level one intensity she had to build, step by step, up to level ten. As Lindsey partner I was permitted to comment, encourage, and feedback during the exercise according to whether I believed her or not. If I did then she could ascend to the next level. If not she had to go further and deeper with her intention to communicate authentic fear before going to the next level. After 4 or 5 minutes she looked pretty goddamn terrified and had got up to something like level 7 or 8 at which point Anne stopped us! After a bit of group discussion it was my turn.

I had first done a similar exercise over 20 years ago while working on The Deal at the Arts Centre with American Connexion (e.g.“-I want justice!”. “-Well, you can’t have it!” etc, repeated again and again as way of galvanising us into playing our objectives at full pelt for every unit in the text). Yesterday I found myself secretly praying I might be given a statement such as “I want to hurt you” or “I want to maim and/or kill you”, anticpating this might be practical preparation for getting a soaked up in Titus’ toxic rage, the role I am currently in the midst of rehearsing with Strathclyde Theatre Group, but in the end that was deemed too similar to “I detest you” which we’d already seen my friend Kenny do with Robert.

I was given the sentence: “I love you”.

Now I’ve known Lindsey over 10 years. I first worked with her when playing her husband in J.B. Priestly’s Time and the Conways at the Arches in 1999. She was also in an Alison Peebles film with Karen 3 or 4 years ago, so I suppose I know her quite well. I like her; she’s a kind and caring person, quite beautiful, but I wouldn’t say we were what you would call particularly close.

By the time I’d reached up to level 6 tears were appearing in her eyes. By 7 she had flung her arms round me as I repeated “I love you” with greater ardour, longing and intensity. I had started by focusing on her sparkly green eye make-up and then moved onto her face, then her tender vulnerability, then her heart and her inner light, her soul... Going ever deeper. My entreaties became directed, in my imagination, to an amalgamation of all the women I have ever loved, my profound gratitude to them for what they had meant to me, a desire to bless and affirm them for the gifts they had brought of themselves and the love I had shared with them, but then it began to morph into a deeper, even more universal love for God as expressed in my connection with Lindsey as another human soul. Images of me being a fountain of love radiating light from my heart and flooding her spirit. All the while I was telling her “I love you” it felt like the most honest and candid I had ever been in my life. We ended up kissing passionately. When Anne brought the exercise to a close Lindsey slowly pulled away from me, laughing as she wiped away her snot and tears. “My God,” she said, “Why haven't I got a fucking boyfriend who can say that to me!?”

There was some applause from the group before Anne said, “Wow, Mark… You look like you’ve done that before!” And of course I have, but to be honest never with that degree of intensity. In life we hold back from expressing things with that much crazy passion and ardour, and unless we’re bonkers we don’t spend 5 minutes saying the same thing over and over again even to those we love! This exercise permitted one's guard to be dropped and the backlog of a lifetime's emotion burst out of me and it didn't let up.

The extension exercise involved both of us being physically held back by the rest of the class as we struggled to get across the room to the other. I had Robert, Kenny and Ralf- all much bigger, younger and stronger than I trying to restrain me as we repeated our “I love yous” and “I’m scareds” and Lindsey was restrained by Anna and Elaine at the other end of the room. In the end nothing was going to hold either of us back from embracing again, and that is exactly what we eventually did once we'd managed to wrestle free.

All very luvvie and self-indulgent to an outsider I’m sure but what a tremendous exercise!

The reason I mention all of this is that it is this ‘level 11’ intensity that is required for my Titus. His emotions are experienced at increasingly potent levels as the action of the play progresses. Just as you think he has reached the depths of existential anguish and hellish torment there is still another level to go. It would be very easy to peak too early leaving me nowhere else to go; or the opposite- never really connecting with the authentic emotion at all. Yesterday’s exercise wasn’t just self-indulgence because there was an action associated with it which was 'to be believed by the other'. Titus’ journey strains credibility at times, and the challenge for me is to carry the audience along on that roller coaster of increasingly heightened grief and woe. It took yesterday’s exercise to make me realise that there is no point in me trying as a pacifist Quaker to play murderous hatred because what really lies behind Titus' martial persona is actually a wounded soul clinging onto a fierce and violent love for his emperor and state, for his nearest and dearest and his unshakeable devotion to the ideals of Honour and Justice. There is a deeply poignant and profound loving heart which is actually exquisitely tender and beautiful despite all outward appearances to the contrary. Titus may be old, pig-headed, hideously violent, battle-scarred and ugly on the outside, but he is ablaze with an intense fidelity to Love. He is simply limited in his means of expression in the Yang-dominated culture of the Roman army, slaying Goths for 40 years.

But what I communicated with such fervour and conviction yesterday evening to Lindsey- a feeling in my body, in my emotions and in my soul- is actually the same as what lies at the heart of Titus. He personifies a hugely amplified, unstoppable force of nature, a deluge of Divine Love that floods the Empire. Everybody feels its compelling power. It is a fearless love that hopefully increases an audience sense of aliveness because all it is about is giving, giving and still more GIVING, with no thought for the consequences; transmitted through each and every cell- through my eyes, my words, my feelings, my touch, an unadulterated and distilled presence- an incandescent furnace of energy and power capable of burning up and transmuting everything. This for me is the key to Titus' soul. It is absolutely counterintuitive to the traditional idea of him being the hate-filled, blood-lusting Avenger archetype. It is Nuclear Love. I’m pretty sure Peter Lamb, the director, will disagree with me- but just in case you happen to be reading this Peter I want for the next wee while to look into this in greater depth, and hopefully bring you round!

Having said that it’s still early days of course. Peter is still blocking the play and we’re all still struggling to get off-book. The interaction and the nuances of character relationships- particularly between myself, Lavinia, Marcus, Lucius, Tamora and Saturninus- are far from clear 19 days before opening night. It is still very much a work in progress, and I know I haven’t even begun to skim the surface. Others are much further on than I by all accounts. But by the end of this week we’ll have had the chance to run the whole thing and see what needs most attention. It would be foolish to hope for much at this stage; after all it’s been almost 3 weeks since I last rehearsed Act 1, and I can barely remember anything about it! No, my main focus in the next week or so has got to be remembering lines, cues and moves, although I would like to think I will be able to attend to what others are doing around me too, and maybe capture some of the flavour of Titus’ depth of feeling and passion. I long for this to be a very intense emotional experience for every member of the audience in performance. This will demand superhuman levels of emotional and physical stamina fromme, and an intense focus from the audience if that goal is to be attained, but nothing gets my juices going more as an actor than the carrot of impossible objectives! :-)

Natural High

So much has been happening over the past few weeks, both inwardly and outwardly, and I suppose I have been living very intensely. I wish to reflect on things a bit here and maybe tie it all together, if I can, before I return to teaching on Monday. Forgive me if any of this comes across as self-indulgent, ignorant or naïve- or all three!

I have spent the last 2 days taking part in a voice workshop led by the inspirational expert Nadine George. It’s her work that provides the foundation methodology for all voice teaching done with students at the RSAMD over the past decade by among others my friends Bill Wright, Susan Worsfold and of course Ros Steen (who was also in attendance, along with five other voice teachers from drama schools all over England), and now internationally- in the national theatres of Scandinavia, France and Brazil. Nadine’s ideas challenge many of the dogmas about the use of the dramatic voice, such as “ adequate support” and “misuse” propounded by the likes of Linklater, Rodenberg et al. By the end of the first day the majority of my fellow workshop participants looked very worried, as if Nadine were some kind of antichrist spouting vile heresies. But by the end of the two days I know we all felt immensely grateful for the way she had managed to liberate us from many of our received notions and prejudices, and had re-inspired us. I am left feeling immeasurably courageous and hopeful, aware of the possibility an infinite number of choices which I thought had been closed off to me as an artist long ago. My God, if that was just a wee taster of what I can expect to get from the Masters in acting at the RSAMD I am going to be in paradise next year!

She made me confront the notion of what an incredibly good actor I am. I have become increasingly hardened in recent years to any kind of adulation, blandishments or flattery about my work. Instead I always seek to know how I can do better, and have always felt I can do this only when I am criticised. My dear Karen often berates me for always being much more interested in getting feedback from all and sundry about my flaws and in the process making myself completely deaf and blind to any admiration from others.

But Nadine George was so inexorably positive and affirming. She somehow correctly intuited my ingrained resistance to her “Amazing!… Extraordinary… Absolutely tremendous… Bloody marvellous!” comments. My intrinsic scepticism is a peculiar manifestation of my very English, and yes egoic fearfulness of any kind of praise. My somewhat unreliable bullshit-detector was sounding its alarm bells. I have had some very ugly experiences in the past at the hands of people who have flattered my ego and then used it as a tool for manipulating me, and eventually turning against me. I have come to suffer from a deep suspicion of any kind of congratulation or commendation about what I do. I immediately suspect the motives and even the taste of people who say I am good- as some people have in the past ended up using that as an insidious form of control over me, and my feelings. So you can perhaps imagine my reaction when, after performing my Aegisthus speech from Ted Hughes’ translation of The Oreistia, Nadine showered all this praise on my ‘embodiment of the text’. It made me feel extremely uncomfortable, though I adopted what I thought was a convincing mask of gratitude. She had similarly eulogized everybody else’s progress so when she said I looked like I didn’t believe her I apologised and blurted out that I had some doubts about the reliability of her feedback.

I said, “It’s really fantastic how you provide such a supportive and lovely atmosphere in this class, Nadine. It's great, but I’m not used to it! Surely if everyone is wonderful and special then in the end nobody really is. Never mind the raptures, what I want to know is what isn’t wonderful... and what must I work on to improve it.”

She became very serious and responded very slowly, “Improve?? Mark… Mark. You want me to tell you it was shit? It wasn’t shit, Mark! It wasn’t shit. That’s the fucking understatement of the year! Christopher-bloody-Columbus!! Do you not know that? You need to have a clearer understanding of what you are, Mark, what you are capable of, my darling… I love you! I adore you!! You were wonderful. Wonder-ful. You need to know that about yourself, Mark. You are an extraordinary actor. A wonderful actor! I mean it. Do you see? Do you get me? Christopher-bloody-Columbus!!” etc…

Eventually at the end of this rant she held my gaze and leaned forward, adding quietly, “Listen to me; if you work from a level of love then miracles happen. Do you get me?”

The scales fell from my eyes.

BINGO!!!!!

Suddenly I felt like all the various strands of me came together- like the fireworks of some ecstatic religious/ or exquisite drug epiphany!

Hearing just those words chimed with so many, many things that have been percolating and bubbling below full consciousness for me about the art of acting, the art of being, for a very long time but hadn’t really pierced me as deeply until that instant. I felt my heart and mind explode and expand at the speed of light- un-chained, utterly liberated. The feeling hasn’t gone away.

Deep changes will inevitably ensue; Nadine predicted this for us all in our own unique ways. She’s no guru, she says that herself. She's just a wee woman. She’s not interested in abusing her power or manipulating anyone.

But as she said I was present at that workshop for a reason. And, my God, was she right.

The experience was quite literally unforgettable.

Nadine’s work draws on primeval, animalistic forces, the archetypal male and female energies in the voice, body and spirit. It’s not bollocks. Of course this workshop made me hyper-aware of the profound importance of all of this to Titus, and occured at precisely the right time for me as I launch myself back into acting after a year away from the stage. A divinely meant encounter, I’m sure of that.

The character of old Titus has such a disproportionate Yang imbalance, and he has to undergo the emotional and physical torment of hell, similar to old King Lear, before he can move into the Yin dimension. The voice work I did wth nadine will feed into that. But much much more than that, I know the implications of this Easter-time experience will not just embrace Titus but extend into the rest of my life work from this time on. And as completely naff as it’s likely to sound… fuck it, this was a genuinely heart, mind and soul-altering experience for me. I can’t be the same ever again. So thank you, Nadine… And thank you, God.

Regular readers of this blog will know I am, and have always been, attracted to the spiritual aspects of acting, but more and more so as I age. And having become a Quaker in the last 18 months I am convinced in my heart- in ways I can’t really begin to justify in words- that the theatre really has far more in common with religion- specifically mysticism and the sacred- than it does with ‘art’ or ‘entertainment’. Both are about the ritualistic dissolution and transfiguration of the Ego, and the reconnection with the Divine. It is not about the pursuit of joy or tranquillity- if it ever was- for that goal too has to be transcended eventually. For me it is clarity, and above all Truth that is the Holy Grail. And paradoxically I seek the path beyond the ecstasy of transformation into a state of oneness and universality where notions of human identity and uniqueness become worthless and immensely precious at the same time. That is what religion does too. (I know, I know, this sounds like wank. I can see my pal Mark Westbrook banging his poor fists off the computer screen as I write this!! Sorry, Mark!)

Actually I wonder if this is why so many actors and artists get sucked into using drugs and alcohol, because they long to experience that sense of otherness- a sense of joining together- on a regular basis, even if it is only a chemically-induced illusion, and lasts just a few hours. But somehow to me that particular way of living has always struck me as terribly selfish, a form of cheating and- not to put too fine a point on it- bloody dangerous. And the results- because they don’t actually serve anyone else but the substance-user himself- can’t ever be sustained. It’s like that analogy my old history teacher Chris Wilshire used when talking on this subject: like getting the fuel to soar in a helicopter to mountaintop rather having the determination, guts and the spiritual strength to climb it step by step under your own power. Any lasting sense of achievement, ownership or meaning is absent from the person who gets there by assisted means. Sorry but I can see nothing real about that dummy-sucking, ‘PLUR’ world, no matter what anyone says. It’s a kind of sordid and treacherous fantasy life of happiness without any true fulfilment or purpose. I’d be the last person to deny anyone their bit of fun, but when it starts to become a philosophy you think is worth defending, well then your life is spirally slowly into the pit. Thir work becomes shit. I’m old, and it’s a tragedy I’ve seen repeated more times than I care to remember to some of my most gifted and talented friends and colleagues.

But then again many have said exactly the same thing to me about what I do as an actor. "Just escapism from feelings of insecurity! For children!" So there you go! Fie diddly dee!

Other stuff to look forward to in the near future includes my production of The House of Bernarda Alba at the Eastwood Theatre, opening next week; returning to school on Monday for my last full term of teaching (ever!), developing Mamet’s Duck Variations with comedian-actor Ian Watt and director Mark Westbrook of Spartan Productions; a forthcoming audition for a major TV series set in the legal world of 1780s Glasgow; playing Titus in the mammoth Titus Andronicus opening at the Ramshorn in 6 weeks time; organising and speaking about worship at the sereis of weekly Glasgow Quaker Quest evenings, starting May 6th… Oh and of course, last but by no means least, drama school starting in September. :-)

But right now…? Right now, I am living in the blessed Nowness of the Now.

And loving it.

Only Once

Death either destroys us or unmasks us.

Seneca

It is nothing to die; it is frightful not to live.

Victor Hugo

These quotes may strike the reader as somewhat morbid. They’re not really.

Three or four weeks ago, a couple of days before my audition for drama school in fact, my younger brother Paul suffered a severe asthma attack. He was rushed at high speed to Kettering hospital and died of respiratory failure in the back of the ambulance. The paramedics were able to resuscitate him, thank God, and he spent the best part of a week in ICU. Naturally, Marion, his wife, along with James and Katherine his 2 kids were all most concerned- as were my other brothers and sisters- and I of course, especially being so many hundreds of miles away. But he's pulled through, and has returned to running his business, albeit working from home now.

The knowledge that my brother was seriously ill in hospital galvanised my acting in the RSAMD audition. It’s a terrible cliché but such incidents are a salutary reminder of just how precious human life is. As alarming as it was, Paul’s brush with the grim reaper jolted me out of spiritual/ creative torpor. The fact is we are, each one of us, so fragile; knowing how it can all be snatched away from us in the blink, forces one to appreciate just how dear consciousness and being is. We awaken and become intensely grateful even for the mundane and tiresome bits of existence. I since find myself thinking several times each day- What if this was my last moment; would I want to be taken now? Is there something else I should be doing, saying, thinking and feeling at this instant? If so, why then aren’t I doing that?
This urgent questioning, a sense of grappling with existential issues, already shows signs of waning, but I have made a solemn undertaking not to drift back into complacency again. To be honest, remembering I’m not immortal is actually a really inspiring thing, and I don’t want to lose that awareness.

What a fabulously liberating and useful corrective Death is~ at least the contemplation of it~ to procrastination, hate, pettiness, worry, anger, to empty abstraction, distraction and silly self-righteousness! Death has the power to make us fabulously creative too, as it urges us to be more fully present. Viewed rightly, death is surely the most precious human blessing. A beautiful gift in fact because, as Seneca says, it unmasks us. It shines a searching light on all our purposes. It makes us true. Paradoxically, it makes us more alive!

Actually Seneca is an unmistakeable influence on Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus.

Titus is a play that has a total of 14 deaths in it, most pretty gruesome -so gruesome in fact the action starts to become quite comic after a while. Many of the characters are caught up in a spiralling maelstrom of serial and macabre vengeance- including rape, decapitation, self-butchery, cannibalisation, assisted suicide, various mutilations including beheadings, people's hands and tongues cut off, etc, etc. The energy of the play moves through being celebratory, then mournful, frightening, thrilling, gleeful and even sexual, despairing, silly, sickening and ultimately quite numbing. The poetry is clear and the plot is very easy to follow. It’s a fountain of blood, and quite literally merciless. It's about the human longing for the escape from violence even while as humans we escalate it. It's about how we yearn for the Divine to inflict horrible punishment on those who hurt the ones we love.

I think it’s a great play, though modern critics and the academics don’t agree. For audiences right up to the mid-19th century it was by far Shakespeare’s most popular drama. Nowadays it is one of the least regarded. I think that's because we prefer as a culture not to be reminded of death. Its images are taboo. They would remind us that we are guilty of not really living fully. Such knowledge is scary, but when looked at unflinchingly potentially extremely empowering.

After a year away from the stage, I feel a bit like a Lazarus, if that doesn’t sound tawdry. I intend to make the very most of this wonderful opportunity.

And I feel the exactly same about the chance to go to drama school in 6 months time.

Of course I am beseiged by worries that I don’t remember how to act, but I’ll be fine.

No, more than fine~ great!

I intend to relish every single bloody moment- even when- as they surely will~ things get fraught and thorny. Anthony Hopkins wanted to give up acting and suffered depression when working on the Titus movie. Psychologically speaking it’s a hugely challenging and dark journey the character takes. I know I didn’t have a happy time when I last played him 9 years ago.

But now playing it for a second time I have to keep remembering...

You only live once!!

Glad Tidings

I received two wonderful bits of news yesterday.

Firstly, formal notification by letter of an unconditional offer of a place on the MA Contemporary and Classical Text (Acting) course at the RSAMD, starting in September!!

It's not really hit home yet. Karen opened the envelope while I was scoffing my egg and cress sandwiches on yesterday's lunch break, and read me the contents of the letter over the phone. It's strange, but I wasn't anywhere near as jubilant as I thought I'd be. Of course it was a relief that I will not have to endure months of waiting to find out, but when I received the news I did so completely impassively. I'm still at a loss to understand why. Maybe because it all had a whiff of destiny about it- as pompous and arrogant as that might sound. I somehow knew in my heart I would get in. Or maybe it's the thought of the £9450 we will have to find in order to finance my studies, as well as feeding and housing ourselves on thin air for a year. On Tuesady this week we had been informed by Scottish Gas we'd need to fork out £600 on repairing our central heating system. It couldn't have come at a worse time.

We just have to continue to trust that things will work out for us. And I have to stay sensible. And so I am being uncharacteristically dispassionate and somewhat decorous about the whole thing. I've been beseiged by good wishes from friends, family and colleagues- who are all so much more excited about this news than I- an avalanche of congratualtions and well dones! Maybe that's because they're not the ones who'll end up paying for it! I opened a bottle of Becks when I got home from the voice workshop at 11pm, but couldn't even finish it before I fell asleep.

I guess I'm not what you might call a party animal.

Today I drafted and then submitted my request to the head teacher and South Lanarkshire Council for a one-year career break from teaching starting the end of September. The authority and Calderside Academy have promised to keep my job for me, but I secretly hope that by the end of my time at RSAMD I can safely leave it all behind and survive as a fully professional actor again. Please God...

And the second exciting bit of news...?

Before going along to Hilary Jones' excellent voice workshop at Giffnock last night (which offered me a tantalising taster of the Nadine George techniques I will be taught next year) I went along to audition for the Ramshorn Theatre's production of Titus Andronicus. Because the director, Peter, knew my work- having directed me in King Lear and also as Spooner in No Man's Land - as well as acting alongside me over the years in such productions as Glengarry Glen Ross, The Homecoming and 12 Angry Men- he didn't ask to hear my audition piece (I'd actually gone to the trouble of learning a speech from The Orestia), or even get me to read from the play in the end. I thought he was then just going to say sorry, but that because my availability was in question, directing The House of Bernarda Alba until the end of April, that he couldn't really take the risk of casting me. You can imagine how stunned and delighted I was when he asked straight out if I'd accept the lead role!

"Well let me think. Yes."

I feel enormously grateful for the opportunity to revisit the challenges of a role I first played nearly a decade ago in the Botanic Gardens. My acting then was necessarily forced and hammy given the outdoor setting, the promenade staging and the ill-judged direction, and I think that the opportunity to try it again- in the intimacy of a small, atmospheric studio space, and with just a little more experience under my belt (especially having since played Lear- a very similar character in some respects)- will help me to play Titus with a bit more economy, truthfulness and integrity this time.

But what a joy! After a year's hiatus I am acting in the theatre again! And you know what...? Right now it's this which gladdens my heart more than anything, including the news I have been accepted into drama school.

But you have much to be grateful for and plenty to look forward to in the coming months, Mark.

So I thank you, Lord! Just keep looking out for Karen and me, Big Man, eh?

Not Dead Time: LIVING Time!!!

with Karen Coleman & Charlie Donnelly in The Browning Version (Arches, 1998)

Mr Crocker Harris is 'retired' from teaching

“Patience is not passive; on the contrary, it is active; it is concentrated strength.”

Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton

Waiting has always been difficult for me. But rather than chewing the furniture and tying myself in knots, I need to see the next 6 months as a chance to learn to become excited by whatever lies ahead. The audition went well I think but now that it is done, whether I get into the RSAMD or not is in a sense irrelevant, as the time has come for me to make profound changes in how I live my life anyway, and how I approach my art. I cannot continue to hibernate or tread water. I cannot continue teaching in secondary school kids simply to pay off the mortgage. It’s a waste of my gifts, of my life. Putting financial security at the top of the agenda is no longer tenable. Increasingly over the past couple of years it is spiritual congruence and living authentically, -adventurously- which has taken on greater and greater value and importance for me. Sacrifices have to be made. Whatever should occur, whatever the Academy may decide, I am resolved: I cannot afford to forget to keep evolving, emerging.

One thing's for sure... This is not dead time; it’s living time!

Decisions about who I want to become can and indeed should be made NOW- quite independently of whether I end up going to drama school or not. I will become an actor again whatever happens, I know this. But what kind of actor?… Who for? And why? Answering those questions is what this life phase is really for.

In fact this spring can actually be one of the best times for self-awareness and real growth to take place. To get myself focused on planning how I want to spend the second half of my life; deciding what is most important to me and how those realisations are going to affect my connection and relationship with the world. The journey, this waiting, may have a more significant impact than the end result. Impatience may keep me from gaining from this present experience. Whereas calm patience can be the ideal catalyst for soul growth to occur.

There’s a real art in being patient, which involves surrendering and simply trusting that God knows what He’s up to. I am not used to this. I have to learn how to wait on Him and trust that He is making me bide my time for good reason. My own lower ego must not try to force things to flower before they are mature enough to be uprooted. He has the best in mind for me, and I am going to have to accept that whatever occurs will be for the best. And so I surrender because He knows what He is doing for my highest good.

That said I woke up from a nightmare last night. My car ran away down University Avenue after I left the handbrake off. I chased it, panicking and screaming for people to get out of the way as it rolled down the hill. It ran over a woman who quick-wittedly lay down in the middle of the road and let the vehicle pass over the top of her and her terrier dog (was it Jill Ridderford? Morna Burdon?) By the time I had got to Byres Rd there was no sign of any accident but the car had disappeared.

As soon as I awoke I knew his was about going to drama school, and my fear of making the wrong decision about my life. Things being out of my control and the fear that I am required to relinquish my car and the security of other possessions and trust that God will permit nothing disastrous to happen. It feels very scary but in the end there is precious little I can do about the consequences. I have to trust that others will just get out of my way and notice when my car comes hurtling towards them!

Meanwhile I have decided to audition for Peter Lamb’s production of Titus Andronicus. Again, if I don’t get it, that’s fine-; after all I can at least say I have played the part before in the botanic gardens ten years ago. The thing is I haven’t acted for 10 months- since Tango in fact- and I am scared I have gotten out of shape. If you don't use it you lose it, isn't that what they say...? I hope though that long enough has elapsed though for me to come back to it afresh, and with a rejuvenated sense of purpose. I am setting myself the target of being more authentic and fully connected this time. To resist cheating. And to be more loving.

I have also agreed to direct another show for Giffnock next January- and the fee should go towards my college fund if it should go ahead. I have some other ideas for making a bit more money using my acting skills- more of which in future posts.

Exciting times.

Nae Pressure Then...?

As Larry (with Susan Worsfold as Alice) in Patrick Marber's Closer (2002)

Those of you who are also followers of my Facebook page will already know that tomorrow is- not to put too fine a point on it- one of the most important days of my life. At the grand old age of 48 I'm auditioning for drama school. After 30 odd years of treading the boards I guess I am probably just about as prepared as I can possibly be, and all that remains is for me to get a good night's sleep, stay cool, calm and collected, taking everything in my stride and simply enjoy the experience. There's no point caring about the outcome as I won't know for another 4 months if I'm successful. I simply plan to be myself and to answer their questions as honestly and as calmly as I can. At least I'm likely to know one, perhaps even two of the people sitting on the audition panel- Maggie Kinloch whom I've auditioned for once before (I seem to remember she offered me the job even though I ended up being too busy to do it) when she was Artistic Director at the Byre in St Andrews; or Hugh Hodgart who enjoyed my production of A Hard Heart two or three years ago and with whom I spoke at Howard Barker's lecture last year; and perhaps one of my good pals Bill Wright or Jill Ridderford.

Taking my new acting coach friend Mark Westbrook's advice I intend to do my audition pieces with Michael Chekhov's feeling of ease. Last night I performed my speeches for some of the cast of The House of Bernarda Alba who mostly know me only as a director of course, but they were falling about when I did my Teddy, and were in raptures afterwards over my Prospero speech. :-) That really boosted my self-confidence. I've been receiving many good luck messages this past week from friends, family and colleagues. Many have said I shouldn't be a student at the Academy but teaching there, but it's a moot point.

I know I have the chops.

I know I have the talent.

I know I have the experience.

I even bought a lovely new pink shirt...

What more could the bastards possibly require of me?

We'll just have to wait and see...