Actor Agape

1979

...At the tender age of 18, lounging in our back garden and learning lines for a college production of Turgenev's A Month in the Country. It occurs to me just how much (-not just my physical appearance but) my methods for creating characters have changed since those embryonic days. I find the work so much easier, and it's so much more enjoyable now than it was then.

And even more so since I stumbled across Michael Chekhov. And I like to think I am better at acting too! Oh, how I used to torture myself- to the point of making myself thoroughly ill with overwork and ridiculous levels perfectionism! The afternoon my mum took this photograph I was covering my comprehensively 'Unitted & Actioned' script with a plethora of 'Given Circumstances' marginalia in different coloured felt tips! God!


Yes, the work was all about the Stanislavski system then. Now 30 years on, having come through so many different phases as an artist, my preferred method is a mishmash of so many different influences and I suppose it has eventually evolved into a combination of my own creative imagination, the psychophysical ideas of Michael Chekhov with a healthy dose of the purely instinctive. Still a lot of studying and armchair work of course but nowhere near as intellectual.

And hopefully nowhere near as ego-driven either!

Acting has always been an incredibly potent, and intimate tool for my personal and spiritual growth from the very moment I first discovered I actually had some talent for it at 16. In fact I have often said that for me acting is a form of prayer. It is certainly about faith- a very practical faith, to do with the manifestating and embodiment of the ineffable. There have been long periods where acting has been more important to me than literally anything else; but as I got older, slightly wiser and hopefully better as an artist, my work slowly took on a healthier objectivity. Still impassioned, yes- but much less obsessive. I definitely feel my life now has a larger purpose than acting. Acting is a means, a very imporatnt means but no longer the be all and end all. Directing and writing have both helped me to achieve this perspective of course, but more importantly Life itself, and the lessons of relationships.

But perhaps more than any other single thing it was rediscovering the spiritual ideas from theosophy that were woven into the creative philosophy and exercises in Michael Chekhov's To the Actor 8 years ago that was the major turning point for me. I remember first reading Rudolf Steiner's Knowledge of Higher Worlds in Sutton library in 1976 or 77 and somehow sensing even then that if I had the brains to fully assimilate and comprehend the ideas contained in the book then they might well be adapted for use by the actor. What put me off at the time was all the Eurythmy, Hindu and Buddhist 'guff'. Everything I read was about acting then, including Nietzsche, Fromm, Dickens etc, and all the Romantic poetry I devoured. But I simply wasn't ready to fully grasp Steiner's occultist notions of the Higher I at the age of 17. They scared me a bit at the time, if I'm honest. So you might imagine just what an amazing synchronicity it was to realise many, many years later that the same book had been such a huge influence on Misha's life and work- especially the concept of the Higher I as the actor's inner creative treasure. I get what Steiner was going on about now, and am overwhelmed with gratitude for Chekhov making it relevant to my own artistic process and spiritual work.

I hope I am a better person than I was when this photo was taken. My obsession with acting for many years caused so many problems and much unnecessary confusion in my relationships with directors and fellow profesionals. I suppose I became what's known politely as "a difficult actor". A bloody good one, but difficult. I am sure my manner put people off working with me. Somehow I had programmed myself to believe that if I really cared about the work I wouldn't let anything stand in its way. I had to focus soley on that. I couldn't allow myself to get close others, especially to my fellow artists. It was more important to me to keep my distance from others and keep my head down. To stay lonely. I couldn't allow myself to be put into situations where I was somehow inauthentic, sentimental or weak. It took me until I was nearly 40 to finally grasp that perhaps the main reason I had never really had the recognition I felt I deserved as an actor- while many who were often far less talented but ultimately much nicer, kinder and more approachable colleagues had ended up doing so much better than I-was because (not to put too fine a point on it) I was a withdrawn, impatient, egoistic passive-aggressive, taciturn arsehole. Chekhov's book revealed to me that the reasons for my deep inner restlessness about my work, my sense of creative isolation which I had hitherto thought was an unfortunate byproduct of my 'genius' (ha!), were because I had forgotten the most important thing- namely Love. I had always stupidly dismissed it as an irrelevance,- impractical. I had taught myself to be cynical and closed off.

with Ann McTaggart, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (2004)

I have since become a bit of an evangelist for this "Love thing", and quite unabashed in my conviction that it must be Love that lies at the very heart of the artist's process, at least if he is going to work at the very highest level.


It is vital for the artist to be honest and authentic in life, but that does not mean being selfish or cruel. It is also vital to be committed and focused, but not competitive or offhand- working with such a focus that it is at the expense of one's relationships with one's fellow artists.


Kindness and compassion must come first.


You have given all of your adult life to the theatre. Pathetic, but it was always becuase of love. The love of the process of acting. But the larger reason for this devotion to acting is finally nothing to do with gaining recognition or power. It is about exploring and communicating the practicality of a belief in the power of inner and outer transformation of the actor and the spectator in the Eternal Present where Love lives.


As I embark on this new year of 2009 these are some of the thoughts that are buzzing round my head. Many others are unborn right now, and difficult to articulate. But I do sense very strongly that my soul is undergoing realignment to experience amazing encounters and deeper, more spiritually challenging work in this new era of my life.

And all I want to say is... BRING IT ON!

:-))

A loving , peaceful new year to all.

with Eric Robertson in Tango (2008)

Michael Chekhov and Focusing

I received an interesting email yesterday from an academic, one Christelle Nassar, at the University of Lebanon in Beirut. She's writing a book on Michael Chekhov, and wants to introduce his ideas to the Arab world.

"Chekhov’s name is known in Lebanon and the Arab world, but there are no Arabic versions of his books nor serious researches on his work, therefore, I chose to write my study in Arabic in order to familiarize the Arabic speaking acting students, actors, trainers, and directors with his work. I have also chosen to work on Chekhov because he addresses the actor directly and suggests to him means of elaborating his part on his own during a mise en scène…
A part of my study will be based on Chekhov’s books “To the actor” and “On the actor technique”. And a second part of it – equally as important as the first – would be a study of the application of the Chekhov’s by people other than Chekhov himself…
Therefore, I would be much obliged, if you as a professional trainer in Chekhov’s acting method, (and using his method as an actor) would answer some questions that allow me to use your personal experience (I would appreciate having your personal CV), and that of your studio as essential references in my study.

1. How were you introduced to Mikhail Chekhov’s method in acting?
2. Have you learned the method through Chekhov himself, a trainer, Chekhov’s books…?
3. How did you become a trainer through Mikhail Chekhov’s method in actor training?
4. Are you familiar with other acting methods?
5. In your personal opinion and experience, what are the particularities of Chekhov’s method in actor training (what made you choose this method)?
6. Do you follow the exercises given by Chekhov in his books “To The Actor” and “on the acting technique” the way they are? Or, you prefer to make changes (such as adding other exercise, deleting some, combining others…)? In case you do, would you please give some description of the changes, and of the reasons behind them (I would like to know particularly why you chose to combine Chekhov’s method with Eugene Gendlin's Focusing/ Bio-spirituality, how you did it, and what were the benefits of this combination)?
7. What are the most common difficulties you encountered with the trainees?
8. Were this difficulties the same for acting students, professional actors, and for non professionals interested in theater?
9. Do you think reading Chekhov books would suffice for an experimented actor or director to teach his method?
10. Comparing with other actor training methods, why – regarding your experience – should an actor choose to be trained in Chekhov’s method?
11. Particularly, and since Chekhov was Stanislavski’s student, what do you, as an actor trainer, think the strong points of Chekhov’s method are, and where do you see the differences between both methods?
12. Chekhov addresses the actor directly, and asks him to try the exercises while reading them in order to understand his method. Based on you experience in teaching his method, do you think the person or the group of persons who want to become actors can train themselves alone by reading the book and applying the exercises?

Thank you in advance,
Christelle Nassar "

How cool is that? :-) I've spent the last couple of hours composing a response, which I've just emailed her.

Dear Christelle,

I first discovered Michael Chekhov’s ideas about 7 or 8 years ago, when I happened to see a video of Joanna Merlin leading a workshop on Psychological Gestures, and I was immediately intrigued. I googled Chekhov on the Internet and what I read on various websites (Lisa Dalton 's particularly) constituted kind of an epiphany for me. I ordered the book immediately. I read it from cover to cover in a single afternoon, and then immediately reread it. It was as if all the blocks and frustrations and difficulties I had been having as an actor were dissolving. His vision for what he called the Ideal Theatre of the future filled me with hope, and the techniques he offered the actor offered the perfect way of avoiding the mind having too much control over the creative process. I could finally stop feeling guilty that I had always secretly found so many of Stanislavski’s techniques quite tiresome, long-winded and so mechanical! (More of which later!) I subsequently attended the Michael Chekhov Studio in London (http://www.michaelchekhov.org.uk/) under the tutelage of Graham Dixon. In addition I have attended the Michael Chekhov in the 21st Century Symposium at Dartington Hall, the venue for Chekhov’s own theatre studio, in 2005. I continue to amass a growing personal library of Chekhov related books, literature CDs and DVDs.

I am as you might have guessed somewhat evangelical about Michael Chekhov's ideas and techniques!

Yet I still have no formal teaching qualification in Chekhov methodology or techniques. This is quite deliberate. Although I am fully aware that there are various certificated courses available I am not convinced Chekhov himself would have approved of a formal program that leads to an official license or piece of paper to prove I have the credibility to use his ideas. I am an artist, not an academic. Besides Mischa’s whole philosophy resists fixed and inflexible theory which might strangle growth. He believed the art of acting, although founded on spiritually eternal principles accessible to all, was also, at its best, an organic process/experience that does- and indeed should- move with the times! In contrast, the educational institution tends to rigidify and ossify ideas and ideals! Chekhov insisted that the individual actor-artist should be quite free to take whatever he/she finds useful in his book, and disregard the rest. This freedom to choose was very important to me as an actor, and the fact that Chekhov wasn't promoting yet another prescriptive, rigid theoretical framework for the art of acting- (Stanislavski!)- appealed to me too. Chekhov’s ideas made me feel so much more liberated and creatively free than all the other theoretical approaches offered by theatre practitioners I had studied- Stanislavski, Meisner, Hagen, Strasberg etc.

In the last few years I have shared many of Michael Chekhov’s ideas with a number of theatre companies in Scotland, incorporating them into the rehearsal process of my productions of Timon of Athens, Awake and Sing!, A Hard Heart, The Crucible for the Ramshorn Theatre in Glasgow- as well as Razed Curtain Theatre Co’s improv troupe and their production of Anna Karenina last year, Macbeth for the Shakespeare Schools Festival UK to name a few. I am an acting coach for individual actors too, and I am a regular workshop leader on Chekhov for The Actors’ Bothy at the Glasgow's Centre for Contemporary Arts (http://www.theactorsbothy.com/)- a weekly class offered to professional actors. In addition I have offered introductory weekend sessions in Chekhov’s techniques through the University of Strathclyde. The techniques seem to come as a revelation to many Scottish actors and it astonishes me that he is not more widely used or regarded.

What attracted me to Chekhov in the first place? Well, lots of things! First of all, his methods are not cerebral, always psycho-physical. They get the actor ‘out of his/her head’, never a good place for an actor to be! Also it forged a unique amalgam between what we now recognise as ‘Process work’ and an in-corporated, embodied, practical mysticism- but from an Actor's perspective. I had been interested in all these areas for a number of years but Michael Chekhov was for me the final piece in jigsaw that completed the picture of my own hitherto blurred sense of purpose and direction as a theatre artist.

I had struggled to find a philosophy that fully honoured the spiritual component within my creative life as an actor until I came across Michael Chekhov’s book. The concepts of Higher Ego, Radiation, Psychological Gesture, Inner Gesture, Feelings of the Whole, of Ease and Beauty, the Imaginary Body and what he refers to as 'the Objective Reality of the Imagination' etc were all drawn together into an articulate and coherent approach that made absolute sense of my own experience of my journey as an artist. Each element provided an access point to (- for want of a better phrase-) ‘Divine Inspiration’. Chekhov is never reticent or embarrassed about commending the deep, unconscious spiritual forces which underpin, inspire- and even compel- the actor’s ‘desire for transformation’. Of course, in the modern British theatre culture any such reference to spirituality in connection with the actor’s art is usually derided, even ridiculed as inherently pretentious or “luvvie” by those inside (and outside!) the profession. The fact that Chekhov was willing to be courageously unfashionable and to actively embrace the spiritual forces and religious origins of the art of acting deeply impressed me. In my view, he offers a radical and visionary dismantling of all the prejudices that seemed to be holding theatre and the art of the actor back from evolving to the next stage of its evolution. Here was the real possibility of what Peter Brook terms the Holy Theatre. Chekhov continues to provide us with a highly practical and at the same time deeply spiritual approach to the work.

Now, Gendlin’s Focusing, and Bio-spirituality, have a great deal in common with Chekhov’s ideas. They are all concerned with discerning and embodying images from the ‘edge of awareness’; the act of defining, refining and redefining of felt shifts (or “grace unfolding”) that can be then be worked with. These felt shifts- the removal of the actor's creative and psychological blocks- are gifts from the Higher Self, from the Higher Source and they are the tools for inner metamorphosis and eventually outer transformation- whether that be in the therapeutic or the artistic context.

The Psychological Gesture is the physical equivalent of Gendlin’s “Getting a Handle”. Chekhov’s concepts of Active Waiting and the Creative Gaze are also very similar if not identical to clearing a space, where one patiently and gently asks, “What is there?” Both processes allow us to disengage from the thought stream and connect with the present moment. They both ask us “How does it feel in my body to connect with these thoughts and feelings?” They open us to the body’s wisdom. I am convinced that Chekhov would completely agree with Gendlin when he says:

“Your physically felt body is …part of a gigantic system of here and other places, now and other times, you and other people - in fact, the whole universe. This sense of being bodily alive in a vast system is the body as it is felt from inside”

In Dr Edwin McMahon and Dr Peter Campbell.’s “Bio-Spirituality – Focusing As A Way To Grow” they say:

“There are two critical issues in spiritual development…The first is to discover a holistic approach for letting go of the mind’s omnipotent control as a prelude to allowing some broader wisdom within the entire human organism to speak. The second is to allow the unique next step that is “me” to emerge as an integral, harmonious expression of some Larger Process”.

This is the same ‘me’ that Chekhov would call the Higher Ego.

Chekhov says: ”The usual ego is not what stirs our imagination. To turn our consciousness upon it, to see the concreteness of its specific powers and qualities, is a means of strengthening our connection with it.”

Whenever I start a theatre rehearsal I adapt an exercise taught by Graham Dixon at the Michael Chekhov studio where he has the actors standing at the edge of the acting workshop space and step over an imaginary line that runs a metre or so inside the circumference of the room beyond which is the space which the higher Selves are to do the work ahead. The letting go of the everyday self is in my adapted version done in the same way as listing all the preoccupations of the everyday self that is done in the second step of focusing. I keep asking “And what else” whilst the participants silently list in their heads their respective worries and concerns which might stand in the way of doing the work. I ask them to wait at least 2mins before let them all go and then they cross over the imaginary line. Having done this shedding of everyday concerns and then decided to dress in their higher selves the ensemble meet in the centre of the room where I may ask indic=vidi=uals to devlop psychological gestures, a sense of how different physical centres manifest the archetypal eb=nergies of their characters.

Chekhov allows us to believe that we do not become greater actors by striving to be more than we are, but by surrendering to our talent, as if it were a gift of grace which we already possessed but simply lay hidden deep within if only we can get out of the way of our own lower egos. This is why, for me, his most profound teaching is really to do with his techniques for uncovering and honouring our imaginations as a reality because he suggests we “leave our personal things behind us” and enter into the mystical realm of the soul, or the Higher Ego.

It may very well be due to my own limitations as a teacher but, in my own experience teenagers benefit least from this way of working. Their egos are still making a massive claim on their attention and it is difficult for them to stay in a place of not quite knowing. They can be extremely reluctant to risk making fools of themselves, and prefer to demonstrate they 'already know the answers'! After 15 years of teaching this age group it is my view that too much uncertainty and ambivalence are anathema for the vast majority of 13-18 year olds- professional and non-professional, experienced and inexperienced. Experienced adult actors benefit most from Chekhov’s ideas, those who have maybe studied and worked with Stanislavski’s principles and then feel the need to go deeper. Preferably, the actors have a spiritual connection to their work (although they don’t have to believe in God!), and have learned to appreciate the value of ‘active waiting’ and meditation as part of their artistic process. I find that Focusing can help them understand the worth of this dimension to their work, but only if they are prepared to be open-minded! For those that are, it can open them up to a deep and untapped inner reservoir of imagination and extraordinarily inspired choices.

There is an entire industry of workshops and courses that aim to give actors a practical experience of Chekhov’s techniques. However if the actor does the exercise in the books on his/her own as Chekhov himself recommends I can see no reason why they cannot assimilate and learn just as much, if not more- and certainly more cheaply! Having said this, it may be helpful to have a trusted witness (just as in so called ‘Authentic Movement’ work)- a director, friend or colleague perhaps- who is sensitive enough to be able to monitor and guide the Psychological Gesture work.

Chekhov’s writing is so clear that most intelligent and sensitive actors can learn the techniques and their uses in their own living room, independent of any practical group workshop or formal tuition. Having said that there is much to be gained from working with an ensemble who all drawing on a common vocabulary for the work they are doing. An ensemble who are united in their sense of purpose can support and guide each other through the process, whatever particular theory that might underpin the work itself- whether that be or Chekhov. Grotowski, Stanislavski, Brecht- whoever...

Stanislavski does mention the spiritual component to the art of acting if you are prepared to look closely enough. He writes of prana and radiation-and was very influenced by ideas of yoga- but his approach is at the end of the day very cerebral- as if he were saying that the actor can summon inspiration by concentrated acts of will. But the books are muddled by the fictional framework he uses to advance his ideas, and very difficult to read. Chekhov takes the very best that Stanislavski has to offer, and comes up with a book that is masterfully lucid but more far-reaching. Chekhov takes us further into the realms of the imagination and its mysterious connection with the actor’s body, Chekhov knew that the imagination and the Higher Ego were far more powerful tools for the artist than the mechanistic and ‘utilitarian’ approach of Stanislavski’s. Stanislavski’s theories have been taken up in the American tradition of acting by Lee Strasberg, and there are many in the west who still believe this to be the pinnacle of what it means to be a committed theatre artist. Of course most Method actors would dispute my assumptions about their process as being purely mental- or 'willed'; and admittedly I’m overstating things. But there has always seemed to me to be an implicit requirement of self-immolation bound up with the Method actor’s process. A “you can’t really be a serious artist unless you are prepared to hurt yourself” kind of creed. Both Stanislavski’s and Strasberg’s students were encouraged at times to generate unnecessary unhappiness and harmful psychological turmoil within themselves. In its extreme forms there is very little creative joy in this way of working; a deeply unhealthy level of self-bullying, in fact. Many of Strasberg's star pupils were seriously fucked up by what he asked of them- hence the early deaths, suicides, clinical depression, drug addiction, etc. But I share Chekhov’s view that the audience don’t really want to see the performer really suffer: the feelings should have what he called “an artistic fragrance”. Chekhov insisted the process should be joyful. In addition, he understood that the audience could tolerate the ambiguity of knowing that what is happening on stage is a fiction and yet could still be utterly engaged in the performance and the feelings. There is a gentler and more open method of acting that allows the heart and the imagination to soar rather than encouraging the actor to fix himself within intense, self-involved and rigid narcissism. There is also, I believe, an erroneous assumption in Strasberg’s Method (admittedly a perversion and a misunderstanding of what Stanislavski was actually saying) that if the actor feels emotionally authentic then that authenticity will inevitably communicate itself to an audience, and so move them. This is more often than not demonstrably untrue. Neither Strasberg or Stanislavski ever solved the problem of how to capture the genie in the bottle so that the truth of the character could be recreated each and every time through the use of the actor’s personal “emotional memories”. Chekhov likened emotional memory exercises to trying to dig up a corpse and make it alive again. Chekhov’s techniques helps come much closer to achieving a reliable connection with the ineffable because he does not start from the thinking, or even the emotions, but from the body. I know his techniques work for me anyway, and I do not fuck myself up in the process either! Method actors might accuse me of “acting”, of cheating or lack of authenticity, but you only have to see Strasberg and Chekhov acting on film to instantly know who is the better actor!

Hope this is of some help, Christelle. Let me know if there is anything else. I've attached a CV of my acting work as requested.

The very best of luck with your research- it sounds an absolutely fascinating challenge. It would be great if you could send me a copy when you're finally done! :-)

Yours truly,

Mark Coleman

What acting is for me

Why do I act?

Because I love it. And when you love something you bring the best of yourself to it.

Acting is my preferred M.O. for engaging in dialogue with my soul- a sort of active meditation/prayer technique perhaps. At the risk of sounding pretentious (Moi?!) it’s a meta-physical process where I explore and negotiate the interplay of belief, action, intelligence, imagination, feeling and the higher will in order to effect soul-transformation. It makes me feel more; feel more whole, feel more useful.

And I love it all the more because I’ve started to get quite good at it over these last 30 years!

All great acting is fuelled by Love. At its best theatre can provide deep spiritual healing for the audience as well as the artist himself. That is what makes it useful- some might even say vitally necessary to humanity.

The crucial need to share and communicate Love in its many different forms is what drives me as an artist. I work to visualise, imagine and radiate that energy via the character’s thoughts, actions and words. Love is always the prime mover behind the process- whether you’re consciously aware of it or not. Actually it’s very important to remind oneself of this often if you are an actor- because the work can get bloody frustrating and terribly difficult at times. Acting and Love are exercises in compassion. They both involve putting oneself in another’s shoes, and they both require enormous reserves of imagination. The better you can imagine the realer it becomes; the better you become, the better the other (or audience) becomes.

It transforms us.

Pablo Picasso: “Whatever you imagine is real”.

At the start of rehearsals I will explore the usual “Magic If” questions (Stanislavsky): “What would I do if I were in this situation? If. IF What does the character do- and why? What conditions would make me behave in precisely the same way as my character? Speak the same words?” By the end of the rehearsals I am no longer asking those questions because through my imagination I have convinced most of my being through repetition and concentrated attention that he, the character, is now me and I am the character. His problems are now my problems, his attachments are my attachments, his ambitions my ambitions etc.

I will usually employ psychophysical techniques – an intricate dialogue between the Spirit/ Mind/ Feelings/ Imagination and the Body and Senses to refine that love energy and hopefully communicate my Higher Self. It’s two-way traffic between inner and outer space. The invisible internal blockages and differences between myself and the character are acknowledged and then discarded as I start to arrive at solutions that are more or less satisfying to me as an artist and I can hopefully create a characterisation that appears easy, apparently natural, appropriate and truthful, and hence ‘beautiful’ because it has a universal application and relevance.

Rather than adding external things to my personality to create character (which is the “outside → in” approach as I understand it) I usually look inside myself for elements that I share with the character’s emotional make-up and then enlarge them, whilst at the same time eliminating those elements that have nothing in common with him. The rest is, as they say, funny voices. To do it “outside → in” strikes me as cheating and somehow ‘dishonest’, even fake; a cheap trick. Sometimes it is necessary, because it appears to save time and effort, but it is usually a false economy because the results are nearly always inferior. I guess what I’m talking about here is the difference between end-of-the-pier conjuring and the real magic of the genuinely supernatural.

I like to create very high stakes for myself as an actor and as the character, imagining that there are shattering consequences, fatal repercussions if I should fail to reach the character’s objectives and aims. But by the same token the rewards for succeeding are pure, unmitigated bliss... Like gambling your house in a poker game with the devil in the hope of winning the gift of eternal life.

Now I’m aware I keep on using similes and (mixed) metaphors to describe the ephemeral process we call acting. It isn’t just that it is easier to talk about in terms of other things but that it is through the medium of metaphor that the actor-artist works. He becomes an expert in finding and then inhabiting correspondences in the outer world for what is going on in the invisible universe of the inner.

So if I had to nail my colours to the wall and say whether I was an ‘Outside → in actor’ or an ‘Inside → out actor’ I would have to say the latter. I normally start from the inner and then work my way outward. For me thoughts beget the magic, a philosophy now popularised by the cosmic ordering New Age mob in fact, but something which actors have always known and been teaching us for centuries.

The Objective Reality of the Imagination (Michael Chekhov’s phrase), and the power that comes through it, is made manifest through the actor. The process starts with the imagination and works its way through to the actor’s instrument- his/her body- and ultimately communicates itself to the audience in what Brook calls holy theatre, in a shared experience. Usually this experience of true connection is fleeting and momentary at best at the start of rehearsals- (as well as in the final performances most of the time, if we’re honest with ourselves!), but sometimes those moments become like pearls threaded on a necklace (another metaphor! - this time borrowed from Stanislavsky)- a so- called through-line of action is achieved- and everything begins to feel as if it is somehow slotting into its proper place. This is where taste, choice and discernment play a very important part in my process. The outcome I am looking for is to feel in some way that the role is actually playing me; that a higher, wiser and greater power is directing and guiding the performance- a form of transcendental, psychic Channelling (Not possession- that would be really crazy!). Although I am still conscious (in fact very much so! Super-Conscious even), it is like I am hovering several feet above the theatre space, watching myself - like the shaman witnessing his own inner animal dancing round the fire. I am more likely to achieve this state of creative flow when I have a profoundly resonant personal investment in the message communicated through the drama, as well as an inspiring super-objective supporting and fuelling my actions. I look for something invisible but vitally important that I must make manifest and real to my audience. Without that all-consuming intention, that need (and at least the hope of its fulfilment) I am lost. In my ideal state of creative flow the super- objective will often be labelled “To Reveal the Truth”, or “To Open up my Heart”, “To Change the Heart and Mind of Another”, “To Give, or to Receive, Love” in my conscious mind. The character and me, the actor, come to share the same aim. It becomes a sort of meta-acting in fact where the performance I give is a comment on the acting itself, and the role itself becomes a living, breathing metaphor for the actor’s soul, a perfect paradigm for existence. From this a limitlessly self-perpetuating fountain of abundant creativity starts to flow up from what Jung calls the Collective Unconscious. It’s as if the characterisation vibrates in harmony and sympathy with what I know the audience needs (not necessarily wants!) from moment to moment, and they start to create the performance with you. In this way I come to terms somehow with the awkward self-consciousness and the artificiality of being in a theatre, under strange coloured lights, in a silly costume in front of strangers, and they become intimately involved in ‘the ritual’, even necessary to my circle of attention, and rather than a potential distraction- they shape the performance with me, becoming co-creators of the magic. It’s almost supernatural, certainly a spiritual phenomenon, and feels perfect and completely right when it works- like intricate harmony in a Bach concerto must feel like to the musician I imagine. A sort of spiritual orgasm! It is a deeply satisfying state/process to be in and one that I am continually chasing through my work.

I am worried that this makes me sound like what’s known as a “method actor”. Actually such labels make me squirm. For me the term conjures up images of a brooding and intense James Dean figure repeatedly banging his head off a brick wall until he draws real blood. This isn’t acting. It is pointless martyrdom, and nothing to do with joyful creativity. This particular brand of actor is not braver than the ham (“Try acting, dear boy!” As Laurence Olivier reportedly said to Dustin Hoffman). The so- called method actor is actually terrified that his own imagination will not be enough, and has convinced himself that the only way to make an audience believe he is in pain is through actually hurting himself. What he has not learned to appreciate is that ultimately it is the audience’s job to feel the character’s pain- not necessarily the actor himself- (and by that I not suggesting the actor bashes the audience’s heads against a wall until they bleed either!). The audience and actor need to feel through imagining. It is my firm belief that the audience feel more if they are coaxed into imagining their worst nightmares- not witnessing or living through them. The sophisticated spectator- and we always have to assume the audience are very sophisticated, sensitive and intelligent- is more thrilled by well- acted, fictional violence for example than actually seeing a man or woman actually shot and bleeding to death. If it is a real person the audience might well feel deeply upset for the person, want to help save them, feel justifiably frightened, horrified even. But that is all. Conversely if it is a fictional but well acted death it becomes a metaphor for the possibility of their own death, and it becomes universalised and, paradoxically, at the same moment totally personal to them. And they also experience genuine compassion- not just “Oh my God, is he going to shoot me next?!” That is why the snuff movie or the porno video is anti-art. They appeal to the deranged psychotic, the imaginatively impoverished. It isn’t a collective experience either, but a private individual one. The Truth we are looking for in Art has a capital T- and that means- for want of a better phrase- the poetic distillation of reality shared. We are looking to understand the meaning behind life, the meaning behind death through art and drama. This involves a deeper examination of the Invisible which is somehow made tangible and Real to us through the frame we call Art.

The realm of the Invisible lies within, and that must be the place where artistic process must start.

Perhaps this is why I so often find the process of improvisation less satisfying than text-based theatre. Improvisation is a skill not an art, and it rarely has the qualities I expect from great theatre. It’s too haphazard and only becomes art by accident, rarely by design. And if it should be by design it is surely just cheating then- not truly spontaneous improvisation. Art as I said should be a distillation and a refinement of the real- a diamond crystal that has been honed, shaped and polished over time. Despite the immediacy, the cheap excitement, fun and spontaneity of improv it frequently falls far short of what I require from genuine art- where the Invisible is made Visible, rather than simply the no-brainer visible-made-visible found in improv.

It comes down to taste I guess.