ZdG Busking Workshop Day Five: Nature Abhors a Doormat

Okay. I'm reading my own title, and I'm struck by how insane this idea was. Let's get a group of mixed-experience, barely formed personalities together and take just six short days to equip them with the skills necessary to perform improvised scenarios at a public event. Then let's just plunge them into said event, a trial by fire, if you will. Six days should be a enough, right? To train them from the ground up, have them create wholly original characters and develop them all into a scenario, right? Oh, and hey, since that's so simple, LET'S DO IT IN THE FIRST WEEK OF THEIR RETURN TO/ENTRANCE INTO UNIVERSITY.

I may have reached my own panic stage of this process. Hence the somewhat difficult title of this post, and my own use of logic in analyzing the details of this workshop. Silly Jeff: Logic has no place in the theatre.

You're probably thinking of "doormat" in terms of the standard allegory or personification--a person who allows themselves to be walked all over. Indeed, nature probably does abhor such people. (Can't be sure [Nature and I haven't been on speaking terms ever since she made me 5' 8 3/4"], but I'm pretty sure Darwin will back me up on this [Darwin! Represent! What what!].) However, I actually mean it in the sense of a metaphor taught to me early in my own college experience. I believe it was my freshman-year acting teacher, Mr. Hopper . . . though as someone awfully prone to axioms he gets most simple lessons ascribed to him . . . who advised us, "When you come to rehearsal, wipe your feet at the door." He wasn't simply advising fastidious tidiness, but a different respect of the space. You're there to work, and whatever emotional turmoil your day may have consisted of, it shouldn't interfere.

However. That's a lesson in professionalism, and theatre has the interesting distinction of basing its business upon rather un-"business-like" behavior. Theatre is a study of nature, specifically human nature. I don't believe a true distinction can be drawn between how we feel in our lives and how we feel in our work. We can compartmentalize all we like--we can be

damn good

at it--but the truth of the matter is that we are who we are, as ever-changing and inconvenient as that may be. An artist learns to use it, to appreciate it for what it is, and maybe even engage it rather than try to shut it away.

Last night one of our actors surprised us. We were walking about the room in our burgeoning characters for La Festa Italiana, in a sort of guided exercise in which Dave talks the actors through exploring specific physical and emotional qualities in their characters. It came to a stage in which the characters were to begin interacting with one another, and we tried to emphasize the need for an intention, a want that can only be fulfilled by other people (this is key to successful walk-about characters in a busking performance). One actor was adamant about refusing contact--it had clearly become their intention to avoid. In the discussion afterward we spent some time discussing helpful and difficult aspects of character, and in so doing we came to the isolated actor. I was about to explain how it is less helpful to make a character who has no reason to be out in public for this venue, when they explained that a relative had just been diagnosed with cancer and painfully disintegrated into weeping.

Whoops.

So there we are, standing in a circle, as this poor student weeps. The actors on either side reach around them for the supportive, non-suffocating hug, and I sort of lose my sense of reality for a moment. I've had students lose control in class before, but never one so mature and with such a personal reason. At some point, seemingly hours later, I approach the actor and get eye contact to say that if they want to step out for a minute that's okay. They do, and we say a few words to wrap up that phase of the session before giving everyone a break. As is to be expected, several people are affected--and some very deeply--by the emotion, and it takes us a while to get back to the workshop. But we do. And we get back on the plan, after a quick, spontaneous game of

catch to lead back in. The upset actor even eventually rejoins to observe and re-involves themselves at the end.

We have a day off now, during which time we've given them plenty to think about. At the end of class we divided them into their respective families, and asked them to come back on Sunday with a costume, a prop and a piece of music that expressed their characters. Our workshop Sunday will be the day before the performance, and we'll have five hours with them all to get them ready. We have a lot to get done yet. But they'll come with everything they have, and that will get us through.

ZdG Busking Workshop Day Four: Character Hunting

The only complaint I have about last night's workshop was that we were relegated to the old gymnasium, owing to some dance team or other vying for our space. The old gymnasium (for those of you planning a trip out to olde Marywood U. in the near future) is a place most resolutely to be avoided. In the spirit of old gyms everywhere, it is hot, stuffy, and cavernous. The floor feels like hardwood laid on concrete, and no amount of fans or open doors solves a damn thing. We had to be sure to offer plenty of breaks for water and rest to our dozen students last night.

That's right: a dozen. We have our players for La Festa Italiana, and I am very happy both with the numbers and the spirit in the rehearsal room. The players are eager, and receptive, and last night we started them on building their characters. In spite of the heat--and perhaps, in some ways, because of that shared adversity--we really came together in the fashion of a familiar ensemble and began to work in earnest. After getting them started on building characters through all three walk-about exercises (leading centers, animals and appetites), we briefly outlined our vision of their scenario as we discussed it that morning. That is, a pair of feuding families--the Rossalinis and the Verdelonis--who own restaurants in town and are vying for the support of the public.

It's an exciting phase. They are well on their way to creating something detailed, tangible and fun that will stay with them well beyond the use in La Festa, and possibly

Prohibitive Standards

. There were a few surprises last night. I had forgotten just how emotionally available I had been at their ages, and some of the players took the character building to a very dark place and serious emotions. I was concerned for a time that we may have led one or two down a primrose path to self-doubt and difficult pain. We discussed it extensively, however, and found that those who went to dark places were better equipped to accept that as part of the work and move on. I tried to emphasize that all their discoveries, even those that feel like no fun, are valid in contributing to the creation of a character. I also made sure they knew, however, that they must love their character, no matter how flawed he or she may be, in order to play it for some time.

Tonight we get down to some real nitty-gritty stuff, developing specific relationships and encouraging the students to discover solo performances they can use in a public context. It's so exciting. It's so rewarding to see the tools I've been using for years--not really from any one place or specific training, but from experience and improvisation--working for other people. Not to mention learning all-new approaches from Geoff and Dave. It's great work, and I'm grateful to have it.

ZdG Busking Workshop Day Three: Sifting for Wisdom

I've written in the past a little bit about the value of making mistakes. It's one of those lessons that I just keep having to learn over and over again, more recently in the form of trying to learn Italian. Last night was yet another lesson for our workshop at Marywood University, and a lesson to all of us, I think, in a willingness to make mistakes. The fact is, we learn faster with the more mistakes we make. The obstacle is, we all seem to want to "be good," to impress our peers and maintain a high status by way of proving something. Some of us (Me) have more difficulty confronting this obstacle than others of us (Friend Todd). It takes a very real courage to leap in and start trying, blind. Ironically for me, this is one of the things we are trying to teach to the students at Marywood.

Just maybe, however, it's getting to be easier for me.

Last night was not an enthusiastic success as far as my comrades were concerned, yet I found it to be very gratifying. Several of our exercises with them went a bit too long, or didn't grab their imaginations. Of course, it was a much more exercise-intensive workshop, as opposed to the game-intensive ones prior to now. This was part of our effort to emphasize a shift to skill-building for the festival performance this Monday, but also to demonstrate to the students what that work would really entail before they had to make their decisions regarding whether or not they would continue in our course. So after a few quick, energetic games to get spirit up, we delved back into exploring animal physicality, this time with an animal of their own choosing, which we segued into the improvisational game "Party Quirks," only with animals instead of psychoses or professions or some such. It was very interesting to watch them integrate (and fail to integrate) the lessons of listening and specificity from the day prior. It was also curious to see them tend to push their animal characters into an intellectual, or "clever," place instead of using simple physicality and appetites. Getting them out of their heads is proving an interesting challenge; small surprise there, what with the rest of their days probably being devoted to typical classroom education.

After the break, Paulette Merchel introduced the second half by explaining to them their upcoming choice in some detail: the time commitment, the nature of the work, etc. According to our plan, I undercut her somewhat dire announcement by entering midway in the character of Dewey Cheatem, a very broadly characterized horny old man character (imagine the personality of Pantalone with the physicality of Dottore) from our show

Legal Snarls

. The students were somewhat shocked by his ribaldry, but it also broke the tension, especially when he hit on Dr. Merchel. It was nice to play him again. It's a character that really knows where to go, and what he wants, so is also hopefully a good demonstration of the kind of character that makes public performance somewhat easier.

In the second half we worked with them on character impersonation, utilizing one another and their homework to observe a stranger and emulate his or her physicality. Unfortunately, many of them either misunderstood or didn't prepare the assignment, and ended up bringing in a person they already knew, which taints the observation with prejudice, making it more of a caricature than an exploration. Still, there was value in their demonstrations of these people en masse, as we stepped back and watched them work. Afterward we discussed, and tried to suggest to them a need for impartial observation and discovery.

The last thing we did was to simply sit down with them and discuss the details of what they could expect from both La Festa Italiana and

Prohibitive Standards

, should they be cast in the latter. This was most helpful, and gratifying, as it was clear to me that we had gained their trust and that they were interested in at least the show, even if they were cautious. I do worry that they are

not

too interested in La Festa (there were rather fewer questions about that, which I would expect there to be more worry over if they were planning on being a part of it), and so we've discussed--in light of that and various scheduling conflicts students have with it and

Pro Stand

--allowing anyone who wants to attend the workshops to continue, and just be clear about whether or not they're a part of La Festa.

Today will be very interesting. We may fall on our faces, as only a few (or perhaps none) choose to be involved with the next step. At least it's good to consider that such a mistake may lead us to making an even better choice.

ZdG Busking Workshop Day Two: Accepting and Building

One of the axioms of good (or as my sophomore-year acting teacher would have preferred: "helpful") improvisation is to always accept and build on ideas your scene partner(s) put(s) forth. This is encapsulated in the phrase, "Yes, and... ," the idea being that one's response to something he or she is given should take this form. "Yes" I accept what you have established, "and" in addition I can contribute _________ to it. If both players can maintain this pattern, this energy, the scene will do a lot of work of carrying itself, and there will be less chance of the dreaded waffle. (I love self publishing; maybe there are other contexts within which I could use the phrase "dreaded waffle," but I can't think of any outside of cookbooks at present.) "Waffling" is when a scene sort of putters out, or sits still, spinning its wheels, and this is more often than not the result of "blocking."

Stick with me here. Just think of the after-show parties you'll be able to dominate with the finer points of theatrical jargon.

"Blocking" in conventional theatre refers to established gross movements around the stage. On this line, cross to the other side, etc. "Blocking" in improvisational theatre (in which there is generally very little of the previous definition) is when someone negates or "blocks" another's suggestion on stage.

"Geez, this sure is a real swell clambake."

"Yeah, or it would be, if it weren't actually a weenie roast, owing to the fact that clams are completely non indigenous for at least 100 miles in every direction."

Ouch. Not the most conducive to building a scene, not to mention trust between scene partners. This is one of the many axioms of improvisation we are attempting to impart and demonstrate to our students at Marywood. It's harder than it sounds, believe me. Nothing demonstrates this difficulty better than trying to collaborate to plan a class. Thus far, our planning sessions have taken at least as long as each class in combined discussion time, and a lot of it is owing to three guys (now four, with David Zarko cogent again [oh Heather, how I miss thy estrogenital influence]) all trying to get their ideas and priorities in. It's a good friction, the kind that makes better product, but dang: sometimes I wish we could just take thirty minutes to agree on a sequence of exercises and then go to lunch.

Last night's workshop was alternatively uplifting and frustrating for me. Uplifting because the students (Geoff and I are on a mission to keep one another from referring to these adults as "kids") are taking to the lessons so wonderfully, and listening

fiercely

. Even those who seemed less than engaged yesterday were fully involved last night. Frustrating, too, because I want more time with them, and that makes me impatient, which makes me feel less like collaborating with my fellow instructors and more like taking charge.

Fortunately, this less-than-helpful, semi-panic state was kept well in check last night by Dave running a great deal of the workshop. It was very game-intensive. In fact, the first half was effectively dominated by warm-up and games. Dave abandoned his Maestro persona for this class, and no one seemed to particularly notice, save for one question at the start: What's your real name?

After the games and a break, we came back in with a warm-up game, and reviewed the improvisation axioms we had agreed upon, simply stating them before trying them out. We had some discussion about this not being ideal, this terribly brief lecture, but given our time constraints it seemed the most effective way. So here's what we recommended to the students:

• Accept and build ("Yes, and...")
• Listen actively, responsively
• Be as specific as possible
• It's better to make an obvious and specific choice than a clever one
• Make the other person look good
• Establish a relationship with your scene partner(s)
• When in doubt, make a physical choice
• Rhythm is important, but allow yourself too the time to really take in what has been given you

From there we shook out, and began the game Freeze, with the adjustment that the audience stood in a circle around the players. It was thought this would be an interesting segue way into the kind of environmental performance they may be engaging in on Monday, and it kept people from getting drowsy whilst sitting. We played three rounds, with periods of groups observation--first from the players, then observers--in between. In the final round I began "freezing" pairs to give them adjustment and then asking them to continue, which worked better than I had anticipated. "Freeze. Specify your relationship. Go!" This was a largely successful period of improvisation, but we need to step up the challenges today.

From there we moved on to working on animal states, guided by Dave. They took to this well, but with some breaking of character. I attribute this to shyness about the strangeness of the exercise and the lateness of the hour, and we didn't become strict about it. Once again, an exercise that could have received scorn from people who felt silly or manipulated actually seemed to give them a better sense of effective tools incorporated in it. It really is an incredible group, and I don't relish the thought of having to choose amongst them for casting. But we're a ways off from that yet (a whole five days).

We left off with a homework assignment: to observe a stranger based on the character-building guidelines we had established thus far and bring him or her in to the workshop in some form for next class. I'm excited to see what they come up with. It's going to get very risky and challenging for them from here on out. Tonight we announce that they must choose before next class whether or not they wish to continue, to perform at the Festa and be eligible for

Prohibitive Standards

' cast. Thursday they will return for warm-up if they're uncertain, but largely we'll know who we've got overnight. Tonight's class marks the end of a certain period of relaxation, and the beginning of a certain period of creation.

ZdG Busking Workshop Day One: Welcome to Higher Education, B%$@#es!

We have begun.

It's been about a year-and-a-half since

Zuppa del Giorno

's last official show, in which time we have been quite busy as a company, with two trips to Italy, numerous workshops taught in improvisation and acrobalance, and even the odd public event or publicity stunt here and there. Still, nothing quite compares to doing what the company started out to do: Create original comedies from scratch using commedia dell'arte as a living tradition. I missed it last spring (suspended for a season in order to effectuate more work in Italy) and now we are back with a very ambitious bang. Not only are we doing another wholly original production, but we are:

• Hiring three new actors on board for it.
• Collaborating with Marywood University's theatre production department.
•  
• Casting students from Marywood University's theatre department.
• Performing the eventual product in two venues: Marywood and The Northeast Theatre.
• Beginning by teaching a week-long workshop in improvisation, character development and busking to the theatre students, culminating in their performing in La Feste Italiana in downtown Scranton on Labor Day weekend.

It is this last that we began last night in the Mellow Wellness Center (read: gym) on Marywood's campus. For all the teaching and workshops I've done in various areas of theatre in the past five years, this is the first time I've taught one with an emphasis on busking, or public performance. And by "we," I'm actually referring to a very new group of collaborative teachers. There are three of us here, teaching approximately twenty-five students. Myself, Dave Berent (Gochfeld), who appeared in the last Zuppa show,

Operation Opera

, and Geoff Gould, with whom I haven't worked on stage since my first show at TNT,

The Glass Menagerie

. To summarize the significance of all this--Last night, after the first day of school, we spent three-plus hours teaching a workshop that was new to us, and that we are planning and modifying as we continue along.

It went quite well, all things considered. We were all rather nervous about what kind of reception to expect from students who are essentially required to attend this workshop (that's for a few days--thereafter we get to say, "Okay, if you want to continue and perform, stick around. The rest: ciao!"), but we just a few exceptions everyone seemed very eager to risk and learn. And we didn't necessarily make it easy on them. Our concession to their first day back and the mandatory nature of this event was to focus on game-playing, team-building and staying away from lessons or lectures. There were, however, punishments handed out (when games were misplayed, they were made to apologize to the class until it was accepted) and their own feedback--occasionally critical of one another--was encouraged. In addition, Dave did the whole class in character.

Dave has a clown called "The Maestro" who performs around New York with some frequency. Last night he rather merged The Maestro with one of his former teachers of clown,

Gaulier

, complete with costume, mustache and French dialect. The result was a very energetic, high-status, enigmatic man who occasionally took over teaching and kept the students on their toes. I was impressed by how easy this was to accept, for both them and me. Dave and I had discussed putting our own work out for critique during this workshop, but I hadn't imagined a character living an entire class out, and wasn't certain about what was to be gained. It turns out the answer is 'quite a lot,' as the students come to see the differences between us and our characters, and just how livable and continuous that characterization can be, even without lines or blocking.

In terms of our lesson plans, we're incorporating a lot of skills, but trying to base things in improvisation (and some clown) concepts. That is, building habits of listening, responding on impulse, accepting and building on others' ideas, making the other looks good, making physical choices, etc. Yesterday we played several games to build awareness and group mentality, touched on the concept of an "active neutral" state (devoid of character [even your own] but aligned and ready to make choices in an instant) and building a physical character, and we even began with some improvisation exercises. We were impressed with how much we managed to get through, which hopefully bodes well for the rest of the week. The emphasis will gradually shift from core skills to more specific ones having to do with public, improvised performance, such as using one's environment, prop acting and audience involvement.

Each day we will plan anew, based on the previous evening's progress. It's exciting to go back to school in this way, and truly, as a teacher I feel I'm learning as much as--if not more than--our students.