Showing posts with label Women Playwrights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Women Playwrights. Show all posts

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Actress/Actor, Past and Present... A History of Women in Theatre Part 2 of 3

Actress/Actor, Past & Present:
 "At particular historical moments, the body of the actress (assumed to be an object onto which male desires were projected) and the body of the prostitute (assumed to be an object onto which male desires were enacted) slipped discursively into one: whore/actress."[1]

In Possession, the Actor stands in a queue for a cattle call audition for Les Miserables:
ACTOR: An assistant to the assistant director got me a ‘special’ audition.  Special as in stand in a queue round the corner…. I met him at the Ivy.  Pretending to be up and coming.  Me.  Maybe him as well... They never do something for nothing.

In performing the role of Actor in Possession, there were times when I felt that a one-night stand had occurred (in her fictional life), on the night alluded to in the text, when character when actor and assistant director met at The Ivy.  At other times, the character of Actor realized in the moment of telling, that she had now compromised herself by accepting the audition.  It is interesting that sexual activities are often said to be: ‘performed.’  They are also considered ‘acts’.

Nobody/Somebody:
One of the most interesting aspects of my research, were found in the accounts of three 'ordinary' actresses ('nobodies') from the 19th century, all of whom obscured their identities under pseudonyms. [2]  There is a persistent irony in the desire of actors who disguise themselves as others, longing to be seen for who they truly are. "[I am] content if what I wrote....may help to remove an unjust prejudice from the minds of those who think only of an actress as an...irresponsible being, without conscience, principle or self-respect, and incapable of understanding the serious duties and responsibilities of life." [3]

These three 'nobodies' recount the difficulties faced by women desirous of working with certain London theatres and touring companies, who were not 'kept' by a rich man, nor willing to exchange sexual favors for work.

I recognise in my younger self a definite naïveté regarding the business of theatre at large. My survival as an actor appeared to depend on choosing to ignore the way I was treated by many male directors.  How would I work if I allowed my discomfort to intrude?   My desire to act was great. 

Using my own experiences as a template, a female actor beginning her career in the late 20th century might experience the following:

  • The director sends away the stage manager and the leading male actor so that he may enact the scene with you himself and physically assault you.
  • On hearing that you used to ride horses, your director waxes lyrical about your muscled thighs pressing against said equine beasts.
  • You are pursued by male audience members outside of the theatre, who appear to confuse you with the character you are playing; it becomes frightening.
  • Yourself and other women in a production are expected to wear revealing clothing/expose your breasts although it is thought by all members of the cast that this is an extremely odd design/character choice.
  • Your fellow actor believes that he can only 'connect' with his leading ladies if he sleeps with them; You use emotional reserve as a way to keep him at a distance.  Discussing the production years later with the director of the production, you find that he the director holds you responsible for the resulting lack of emotional grasp, voicing that you should have 'humored' the other actor, at least emotionally...

The accounts of 19th century female actors whose autobiography is “threaded through with stories of sexual exploitation of women in theatre”, affirm the universality of this experience.  By “recognizing the centrality of sisterhood to personal achievement,” I become the witness of myself through them; empowerment through contextualization.  Possession is a concrete manifestation of a newfound desire to contextualize myself as female actor-writer.[1]




[1] Viv Garder, The Three Nobodies: Auto/biography and Identity: Women, Theatre and Performance edited by Maggie B. Gale and Viv Gardner (Manchester UK: Manchester University Press 2004) p.27


[1] Kristen Pullen, Actresses and Whores: On Stage and in Society (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, February 2005) p. 2
[2] Viv Garder, The Three Nobodies: Auto/biography and Identity: Women, Theatre and Performance edited by Maggie B. Gale and Viv Gardner (Manchester UK: Manchester University Press 2004)
[3] Ascribed to Alma Ellerslie, Ibid., p.13

Friday, June 20, 2014

Hide and Seek: Portrait of the Artist as a Young Woman: Part 3

Becoming the Actor-Writer
In 2010 and 2011, I visited London to workshop a stage play I’d been writing, Today I Live, in collaboration with my mentor Lloyd Trott.   I was hot on the heels of this fruitful writing process when I was accepted to UC Davis, and though excited about the course, I was loath to put work on the play aside and turn my hand entirely to acting and teaching.  But the illusion that we must choose is often as false as the illusion that we must do it all:  During my second year at UC Davis, I received a Margrit Mondavi Fellowship for further development of Today I Live and contrary to my previous expectation, had the opportunity for further work on the play, within the University environment.

Hide & Seek:
“The notion of ‘presence and absence’ is a recurring trope among all ‘performed autobiographies’…”[10] 
Hanna Berrigan, director of the London workshops, was curious to know why I myself didn’t play the central role in my play, commenting that I reminded her of the actress whom I have spoken to about playing the role of Niaz in a potential London production.   I responded that although I was drawn to the idea of playing Niaz in theory, not only am I from a different ethnic background than Niaz, but I have been largely concerned with seeing the character and the play from the outside. ‘Seeing’ Niaz has been a recurrent theme in this creative process. 

In much the way that it is difficult to see oneself, close loved ones or family members with any sense of impartiality it has been hard for me to write this character.  Whether I play her or not, Niaz is my voice hidden within the text.  I as the writer ‘appear’ to be absent from my play: a story that does not ‘appear’ to be autobiographic, bearing scant resemblance to the facts of my own life.  This exemplifies the typical artist’s game of hide and seek.  Obscuring myself under a metaphorical layering of the vastly different cultures and circumstances of my characters in Today I Live, I felt free to explore my own preoccupations, with which the play is bursting.   The Mondavi Fellowship gave me an opportunity to ‘try out’ Niaz as an actor on ‘the inside’, reporting back to the external writer, like a journalist on field assignment.   I was unsatisfied with how I had previously written the character and jumped at the chance to view her through a different lens.

I didn’t quite know what I was getting into.  My internal experience of double exposure in playing a role I have written, triggered a desire to hide all the time.   I struggled to free myself within the role, under the gaze of the observing and editing writer.  Failing to put the writer entirely aside during this process affected my playing of the role.  Constantly preoccupied with what the writing was doing or needed to be doing, kept me at a slight remove.  As this was the first time I’d ever played a character I have written, I wasn’t familiar with the pit falls I faced or how to avoid them.  Yet the process proved successful for ‘the writer’, who benefitted from the actor’s ‘live feed’, about what wasn’t working in the role of Niaz.

The experience was energizing, and yet I felt that my workshop performance was flawed.  This provoked in me a desire to develop the process of actor/writer collaboration.  What circumstances are most conducive to letting go of the critical eye?  Can I successfully act in something I have written? Some of the answers are found in the nuts and bolts of artistic process.  But to understand the conflicted relations of female writer to actor to self, I would like to paint the backdrop of our scene: the wider social and historical context from which the two emerge.

(Continued here:  "Disguise Thou Art a Wickedness")


[1]  Rosalind, As You Like It by William Shakespeare

[2] Hereafter referred to as RADA
[3] Process-oriented approaches to learning place as much value on the experience of doing exercises rather than the outcome or endpoint of a given task, in the belief that the deepest learning occurs through moment to moment ‘experiencing’ of the exercise itself
[4] Current Head of Dramaturgy at RADA
[5] The title of the solo exploration, which forms the practical aspect of this thesis: susanjaneharrison.com/possession.html
[6] Excerpt from the BBC tagline to Alaska which aired on BBC R4: September 21st, 1995
[7] susanjaneharrison.com/alaska.html
[8] Toni Morrison as cited in Newsweek Magazine, March 30th, 1981
[9] I continue to take classes in aspects of craft I wish to improve and intend to do so for the rest of my life
[10]Maggie B. Gale and Viv Gardner, Auto/biography and Identity: Women, Theatre and Performance  (Manchester UK: Manchester University Press 2004) p. 3

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Receiving Feedback: Portrait of the Artist as a Young Woman: Part 1

BACKGROUND
“Do you not know that I am a woman?  When I think, I must speak.”
[1]
Performing Identities:
Theatre Director Michael Barakiva introduced us to concepts of Performing Identities, in our first ‘Core’ class at UC Davis.  Through showcasing his personal preoccupation with identity, he encouraged us to do the same.  I began to be aware of the myriad of roles I play, and furthermore, how specific roles (that of actor and playwright) are colored by gender.  I began to examine a challenge I’ve had in believing that my work as a playwright can be ‘understood’ by my male mentors (in the UK), in whom I have witnessed a desire to push my work into the linear/literal.  Their critiques seem to express a preference for hugely dramatic events (high action).  How to receive feedback from people viewing our work through the lens of their own bias? 

In sifting through their words for ‘truth kernels’, I discover that my beloved male mentors in the UK are right when they identify an issue, but frequently prescribe a remedy that doesn’t fit my aesthetic or intention.  While at UC Davis, I had access to a wide range of feedback for my work for the first time.  During the intensely two years of the MFA, I learned to use feedback more efficiently: I compile it and puzzle through it, excited when I realise how apparently different bits of feedback seem to point to the same issue.   I couldn’t proceed effectively in my work as an artist without mentors, audience and friends who are willing to act as ‘an outside eye’.  In this manner, all of my work feels collaborative.  I am interested that the women in my life who currently critique my work tend to do so by questioning, rather than critique, which I find extremely useful.  I attempt to emulate this myself by supporting fellow artists and friends with more questions and less opinions in general.  

Further on gender: inhabiting UC Davis alerted me to a particular discomfort I habitually experience in hierarchical environments.  Class reading material on gender, imbibed in this institution has further awakened my awareness.  I note that my discomfort with hierarchy appeared to be shared by the women in the group, who tended to seek lateral collaboration.  I began to reflect on my past life as a woman and a woman artist.  I became ignited by statistics: women are radically under-employed in theatre by a ratio of 2:1.  Thus emerged the desire to contextualize this shared experience in Possession, and to realize a potential as actor-writer to create work for myself.