<$BlogRSDUrl$>

Friday, September 19, 2003

"Whether comic or tragic, our performance will be of the kind that
sooner or later produces a forced smile. This is the purpose of our
undertaking. This is the kind of human anguish the spectator must feel
as he leaves our theater. He will be shaken and antagonized by the
internal dynamic of the spectacle that will unfold before his eyes. And
this dynamic will be in direct relation to the anxieties and
preoccupations of his whole life...The illusion that we seek to create
will depend not on the degree of verisimilitude of the action but on the
communicative power and the reality of this action. Each spectacle will
by its very nature become a kind of event."

Artaud on the Alfred Jarry Theater,
First Season: 1926-1927

CRAFT NOTES
"The Concept of Ma"

Today's acting lesson is about stillness. It comes to you
compliments of two artists who worked in related art forms a century
apart. Hayao Miyazaki, arguably the greatest feature film animator
of our time, and Eleanora Duse, a self-taught Italian actress who
achieved international fame a hundred years ago, have both emphasized
the importance of what happens in between the utterance of scripted
lines.

Introductions first. Ms. Duse (pronouned Du-ZAY) was a contemporary
of Sarah Bernhardt and is generally considered to be the first
"modern" actress. In a time when the popular acting style amounted
to theatrical strutting, posing and indicating, Duse insisted on
being truthful. She shunned stage makeup, refused star entrances,
didn't wear a corset, prepared in-depth character analyses, shocked
audiences with her raw sensuality and probably invented emotional
recall. She was an intuitive actor with a tormented soul - an inner
voice she called "an echo of pain in the world." Stanislavsky was
among her admirers and often cited her as a prime inspiration for his
approach to acting theory. He wanted to systematize what he
perceived Eleanor Duse to be doing on stage.

Hayao Miyazaki, now 62 years old,, is Japan's most honored animator,
the founder of Studio Ghibli just outside of Tokyo. Among his most
vocal admirers is America's premier animator, John Lasseter, founder
of Pixar Studios ("Toy Story", "Finding Nemo"). Miyazaki's most
recent movie was "Spirited Away" (English dubbing overseen by
Lasseter), which won this year's Academy Award for Best Animated
Feature. If you are a person that believes she does not care for
animation, I recommend you rent a DVD of "Spirited Away". It might
change your mind.

Now, to the matter of silence and stillness ...

Many new actors mistakenly believe that acting is about how one says
the words. This is an altogether understandable misconception,
especially since acting is in a sense a process of repetition. When
non-actors ask me casually about the art of acting, the first thing
they generally want to know is how actors memorize so many lines. The
truth is however that acting has almost nothing to do with words.

Miyazaki spoke about stillness in an interview, when he was asked to
explain the difference between his style of animation and the style
used by western companies like Disney and DreamWorks. He considered
the question for a moment and then began to clap his hands together
rhythmically. He first pointed out to his interviewer the obvious
fact that when he claps his hands, we hear the sound of the claps,
and we do not hear the silence that falls in between the sounds of
the claps. He then explained that silence is not merely an absence
of something; in Japan, they call it "ma". He said that, in his
opinion, western animators are afraid of "ma". They want to
continually make the sound of the clap, fearing the audience will
lose interest if there is any silence. He on the other hand, tries
to fill "ma" with emotion and character intention. He said that as
long as you do that, the audience will always stay with you.

Though she was reluctant to explain her processes, Eleanora Duse's
work was noted for its simplicity, emotional honesty and those
silences. In one of her personal letters, she wrote that she
sometimes succeeded in "communicating a great shudder to the
spectators through the pure power of silence." French actor Lucien
Guitry saw Duse in "Anthony and Cleopatra" and had this to say:
"...In the last act ...a slave presented to the Queen of Egypt, who
was seated on a heap of cushions, a little basket of exotic flowers.
Under these flowers was the asp ... Quite simply she took the asp in
one hand, and with the other she opened her bodice, then threw the
serpent on her breast, closing again her dress with both hands. This
action took about two seconds, but in that short space of time there
was a long monologue which one could not have written in ten pages --
regret, dread, memories of the past, hope, the possibility of
escaping from her face, the vision of her tomb, the funeral
procession. 'What does the asp do? It moves ... Is it going to sting?
Is this a happy thing? Is this deliverance?'...And then suddenly the
sting, a swift look of agony, a shudder ...It is the end; she is
dead."

You can read all about Duse in a brand new wonderful biography,
"Eleanora Duse" by Helen Sheehy (2003, Alfred A. Knopf, $32.50).
Most of what I have had to say about Duse in this essay is based on
or derived from Ms. Sheehy's book.

Until next month...be safe!
Ed Hooks