Why I laugh in rehearsals
A couple of weeks ago, I went to see a performance of Jean Anouh’s Antigone by Theatre du Pif. It was a virtuoso performance – one that left me reeling and unready to go home. The air was palpable, and I needed some time to decompress.
As we sat there and watched the audience filter out of the theatre, Josh turned to me. “I noticed you were laughing during Creon’s scenes. Why did you laugh?”
Why did I laugh? Why do any of us laugh?
As I struggled for words, Josh tried to help me out.
“Was it because of his accent?”
I blinked at him.
Wow, I thought, After working together for half a year, how can you misunderstand me so completely?
My laughter would never be for something as petty as someone’s accent. Sure, I have the capacity to sneer at people (I’m no angel), but when I do, it’s the completely opposite state to this. When I am contemptuous of others, I close myself off and refuse to see their beauty. Whereas in this state of heightened attentiveness, my pores are completely open. I laugh and cry very very easily.
I remember that when I first fell in love, I was laughing constantly. In fact, for the first six months, Yoshi and I were in perpetual laughter. I’d open Yoshi’s letters and laugh, and laugh… not because his content was particularly funny, but because the way he phrased things was so Yoshi. Recognisably Yoshi.
Similarly, I laughed during the “rather serious” dialogue between Creon and Antigone because I recognised something so... stubbornly paternal in Creon. Even after he gets Antigone to capitulate, he can’t shut up.
Call it then, a laughter of recognition.
In the same way, when I direct, I hold nothing back. In the rehearsal room, I am in a very similar state to being in love -- I marvel at my actors; I revel in their essence. My job is to be their best audience, open and vulnerable to the recognition of truth.
Yes - sometimes I see bad theatre or dance in this open state, I have toxic reactions. I will start making strangling noises and begin foaming at the mouth. Obviously, this is generally considered impolite and I have to be restrained before I start banging my head against the nearest wall. But the source of this reaction also comes from a deep abiding love of the theatre. I once watched a terrible production where they tried to cut and paste tai chi and theatre together as some gimmick. I went to see it with my tai chi sifu – he was fine, but I was foaming at the mouth when we left. It really hurt me to see these two practices, so close to the bone, thus abused. Ok, deep breath. 退一步，海闊天空…
If you want to know me, you should know this about me, because it’s pretty fundamental. I need to laugh. When I work as a director, I need to laugh. But my laughter is never in personal. It may be at our egos, maybe at our stubbornness, but more probably because you did something that triggered off a powerful association. Actors who have worked with me before know that when I laugh, it's probably a very good sign.
As we sat there and watched the audience filter out of the theatre, Josh turned to me. “I noticed you were laughing during Creon’s scenes. Why did you laugh?”
Why did I laugh? Why do any of us laugh?
As I struggled for words, Josh tried to help me out.
“Was it because of his accent?”
I blinked at him.
Wow, I thought, After working together for half a year, how can you misunderstand me so completely?
My laughter would never be for something as petty as someone’s accent. Sure, I have the capacity to sneer at people (I’m no angel), but when I do, it’s the completely opposite state to this. When I am contemptuous of others, I close myself off and refuse to see their beauty. Whereas in this state of heightened attentiveness, my pores are completely open. I laugh and cry very very easily.
I remember that when I first fell in love, I was laughing constantly. In fact, for the first six months, Yoshi and I were in perpetual laughter. I’d open Yoshi’s letters and laugh, and laugh… not because his content was particularly funny, but because the way he phrased things was so Yoshi. Recognisably Yoshi.
Similarly, I laughed during the “rather serious” dialogue between Creon and Antigone because I recognised something so... stubbornly paternal in Creon. Even after he gets Antigone to capitulate, he can’t shut up.
Call it then, a laughter of recognition.
In the same way, when I direct, I hold nothing back. In the rehearsal room, I am in a very similar state to being in love -- I marvel at my actors; I revel in their essence. My job is to be their best audience, open and vulnerable to the recognition of truth.
Yes - sometimes I see bad theatre or dance in this open state, I have toxic reactions. I will start making strangling noises and begin foaming at the mouth. Obviously, this is generally considered impolite and I have to be restrained before I start banging my head against the nearest wall. But the source of this reaction also comes from a deep abiding love of the theatre. I once watched a terrible production where they tried to cut and paste tai chi and theatre together as some gimmick. I went to see it with my tai chi sifu – he was fine, but I was foaming at the mouth when we left. It really hurt me to see these two practices, so close to the bone, thus abused. Ok, deep breath. 退一步，海闊天空…
If you want to know me, you should know this about me, because it’s pretty fundamental. I need to laugh. When I work as a director, I need to laugh. But my laughter is never in personal. It may be at our egos, maybe at our stubbornness, but more probably because you did something that triggered off a powerful association. Actors who have worked with me before know that when I laugh, it's probably a very good sign.
My laughter is our barometer of truth. Censor my laughter, and I'm like a fish on a bicycle.
Warning: contains inappropriate laughter.
Labels: theatre
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
| 1 comments
1 Comments:
Laughter - why the need to explain it at all. We all just laugh at different things sometimes - its as simple as that. I remember during concrete jungle, I laughed at something that nobody else laughed at - it was a pretty serious scene involving the husband and wife when he revealed losing his job - I laughed because it was simply an emotional reaction to what was happening and just the hopelessness of the situation - sometimes you just have to laugh at a hopeless situation because the other reaction is not conducive to getting on with things.
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