February, 2016 Newsletter
Several years ago, while in the lobby after performances of “Abigail’s Party,” I would find Allison White, who played Angela, chatting with audience members, and I would frequently hear them ask her, “How did you enjoy the show?” We would both laugh, and then one of us would point out that Allison had actually performed in the play. The patrons would always be amazed at how they could not have recognized her.
How do actors fool us like this? How do they change into someone else? Is it magic? Skill? Whatever the explanation, we all know that the person on stage who fully convinces us that she is Juliet, or Medea, or Angela may, in real life, be living in the suburbs with two kids and working as a waiter during the day to help make ends meet.
Yet, somehow she has transformed herself before our eyes. And this repeated, public transformation by the actors gives me faith that every one of us is capable of our own personal transformation. I believe that the art of theatre can inspire transformation by simply proving that it is possible. I often feel inspired leaving the theatre, renewed, somehow filled with hope that change is coming!
But how do they do it? How do actors magically transform into someone else? Somehow, they seem to morph into their character entirely, becoming a new entity. They look different, have altered their movement, speak in a foreign accent. It is as if they have climbed into another body and are no longer themselves. But actually, that is merely an illusion. The truth is that the actor transforms like this by becoming more like her true self, not less.
In high school, I played the oboe and aspired to become a professonal musician. So, I challenged myself to learn the major oboe solos from a compilation called the Vade Mecum of the Oboe, which contained the entire oboe repertoire. I knew that any oboist who wished to succeed had better master it. The actor’s equivalent of the Vade Mecum is everything she has ever experienced, conscious and unconscious. Actors must extensively study themselves because they are the repertoire. Actors can only work with their own raw material. And so they must know themselves and be able to call on the vast reservoir of feelings, attitudes, fears, loves, prejudices, and yearnings that we call the Self.
Actors dig deep into their reservoir in order to affect the transformation we witness, deep into the bottomless ocean of the Self where they discover far more there than they could ever imagine. They are fearless explorers plumbing the catacombs of the undiscovered Self. It takes great courage, since of course, they don’t always like what they find. Actors often have to mine feelings of despair, shame, hatred, bitterness – feelings most of us spend a lifetime avoiding. Actors must also accept the fact that audiences will watch them express these sometimes distasteful motives and emotions. The fear of being seen unfavorably has held many actors back from their full potential. For unless they relentlessly practice the most rigorous self-examination and are willing to expose their darkest parts of their selves to the public, they will never fully transform onstage. Yes, acting is an extremely challenging vocation.
I believe that all of us have the potential to experience our own transformations in our off-stage lives. However, genuine transformation does not occur by simply purchasing a new outfit, losing a few pounds, making new friends, or taking up kick-boxing. Like with the actor, transformation is not about becoming someone else. The word transformation is deceiving in that way. Instead, we transform by digging deeper into ourselves, by opening up all the closets and airing out the emotional wardrobe inside, by relentlessly looking at our uglier sides straight in the eye, by owning up to everything we are. Then, we feel truly transformed. I can only become Macbeth by finding the greed, ambition and murderous rage within me and giving them lovingly to the world. I can only become the Self I wish to be by owning and accepting all of the parts of myself that I prefer to hide. Only then will I feel free and somehow “changed.” Watching this type of transformation occur onstage reminds us that transformation is possible. The more difficult concept to comprehend is that the Self one wishes to become, for both the actor and the audience, lies hidden within, waiting to be summoned and set free.
Latest posts by San Francisco Playhouse (see all)
- Follies | An Orgy of Pastiche - August 2022
- San Francisco Playhouse refurbishes auditorium ahead of 2022/23 Season - June 2022
- Water by the Spoonful – A Note from the Artistic Director - March 2022