Showing posts with label movement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movement. Show all posts

Sunday, May 25, 2014

AK STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS AND MOVEMENT

Side Issue:  Stream of Consciousness  Term is introduced when two students are having trouble with an exercise they are presenting.  “Let’s hear your stream of consciousness,” says AK, meaning let’s hear you vocalize what you are thinking, noting as the scene progresses.  If you look at the floor (a response) it has to be because there is something on it (to stimulate your thinking.)  Girls are trying to create an imaginary room, to respond to it.  Do this responding with your senses, says AK, not your mind; do it with your muscles.  When you see that real table, what does it make you want to do.  (i.e.: what empathic response does it set up in you, which of the table’s characteristics or your muscles tend to copy?)  Find something you like to look at and surrender to it.  What are you?  A person?  Really an organism, a total physical being -- which responds to physical things around it.  Why are you different from somebody else in class.  You are all the same age, all speech students.  But one’s makeup is different from another’s because his past experience is different from another’s.  One is “a bunch of conditioned responses.”  We are “products of our environment.”  What were the actual tangible forces which led you to this room in this building?  (Answer lies in the whole past lives of the students: parents, family attitudes, choices made, etc.)  

Reference to a recent Bergman film with scenes in a train compartment.  Three people in a specific environment; what did they do -- shut up in four feet of space in a railway carriage?  What was there in the compartment to use?  A book, a window, a cigarette; consider what each of these objects was like in relationship to the possible variations on the same objects.   Why does the author-director give him or her these books?  (To reveal who and what the people are by their attitudes toward relationships to these objects.)  Where do one’s conditioned responses come from.  We all do the same acts differently because we have our own conditioned responses to living, to life.  (What we do and how we do it constitutes our behavior patterns; characterization is reproducing the behavior patterns of other people -- together with their motivations.)

Critique of an exercise in which a girl crosses a room onstage:  An acting job you can praise to the skies.  What she gives is something that has scarcely been seen in class: response to stimuli!  Whom did she see in the street?  To whom did she bow?  She looked at someone for a long time that eyes that almost devoured him.

Another critique:  Actor attempting Macbeth’s dagger speech goes into “false emotion” after seeing the dagger.  His difficulty is the common one of not making transitions -- of going from this to that.  Transitions are the most important part of acting: fill them in.  Boy dismisses servant and then has a transition into seeing the dagger -- and is better as a result.

Student impersonates a bird he has seen at the zoo.  AK points out that Voltore in Volpone is a character who is like a bird, is a vulture.  But the vulture observed at the zoo did not move, did not respond.  Well, if this vulture moved, how would it move.  Go back at feeding time.

Girl reproduces behavior of a cat-like animal, even parries taunts from a class member with an umbrella, in a way that animals in cages who are used to people doing things like this to them would.  Girl got the lurching of the shoulders, power of the paw blows, the line that goes through the whole body when the animal lunges.  AK has her slowly turn into a person who has these qualities: a person who “pulls from the spine” when walking, when coming down on an enemy.  Animals are bundles of energy; you can sense in an second what they are like.

New Idea: a girl imitates some sort of prancing animal and the class laughs.  Why do we laugh?  Analyze what makes comedy.  It is incongruity of things -- here the growls of aggression vs. the abrupt backing up.  Animal is a hyena.  AK has girl buy a dress, wear it at a party, laugh, listen to election returns coming in -- all in the manner of the hyena.  Animals don’t think; they react with their senses.  There are contradictory impulses in animals just as in people.  These opposites make for humorousness.

Students imitate monkeys.  AK asks what they learned -- about monkeys and about their own kinesthetic senses, asks for the monkeys’ motivation, for a state of why they did what they did.  Student says they are motivated by curiosity.  AK says actors did not show one scrap of curiosity.  Another actor says that male monkey “didn’t want to be bothered” by anything else that was going on.  AK says that fact was not given to the audience.  Also that why the monkeys came out in the first place was not made clear.  The scene was diverting and amusing but not believable.  If a creature is curious, how do we know this?  How does he observe.  Is there anybody in class who has curiosity?  She helps them identify three or four people who have curiosity and whose eyes reveal the fact by the way they light up with “eternal wonder.”  She admonishes the class not to talk or think in generalities, saying they will never be actors until they get over this.  (Someone has answered the question, who is curious, with the statement, “everybody.”)  As students continue to do other monkeys, AK adds first monkeys to their scenes, then a man with peanuts, etc., so that students have to respond to new stimuli spur of the moment as their animals would.  AK points out that of two monkeys onstage, the lady one will get any food that is available because she’s more alert -- her senses are.  

AK has one of the monkeys begin to “turn human.”  A gradual process: when she begins to lose her monkey spine, AK has her go back to being more monkey again.  Then she starts a business of selling candy, feeling animals, still trying to give a sense of swinging along branches; she dances a while, a Charleston, goes out for basketball, goes to a sorority after-the-game party -- all in the monkey manner.

Discussion of “curiosity.”  The word is a label we put on some act.  Curiosity comes from:  “I’ve never seen that before; what is it?”  It is an open attitude.  Curiosity is necessary to acting itself.  What was an Elizabethan curiosity like?  Some people in class with imagination can develop a whole sequence of things that come into Elizabethan England on ships from India or elsewhere -- things never before seen: amber, jade, ivory, spices, slaves, lace, animals, stories about far places.  Along with curiosity, Elizabethans have pride and independence, too.  You can create an Elizabethan by developing these traits with specific details.  This opens up an area of creating characters through a kinesthetic approach -- looking at pictures, clothing, statues, furniture, etc. and letting them carry you into an experience of the past.

Critique of another animal study:  Why did you walk across?  You have to have a motive.  Animals seldom go crazy but yours would turn into a neurotic.  What did you observe about its spine?  (Observations must start with a study of the spine.)  Where are you going?  Where are you?  Create your environment and respond to it.  Your shoulders are still not being manipulated by your spine; your neck is still not part of you.  To test actor’s kinesthetic resources: telegraph to me that you want to climb; that you don’t want to climb, that you’d like to be up in that airplane flying overhead, that you want to swing on those chandeliers.  A really kinesthetic person does things before he touches the actual objects involved -- he sizes up the shape and weight and location of things with his muscles, eyes, etc.  Muscles lift objects, kick balls, etc. before we take the time to think.  What is a kinesthetic person?  Have you been watching for one?  Is there a kinesthetic person in this class?  A kinesthetic person is kinesthetic every moment of his life; they size everything up with their muscles; their muscles feel chairs, the floor, everything -- and won’t get stuck in an awkward position.  This isn’t an intellectual thing, it’s muscular.  We enjoy watching highly kinesthetic people onstage because our muscles more readily copy what theirs are doing.  Kinesthetic people don’t waste movement.  The whole body anticipates a step they plan to take.  The whole body is behind a movement.  The muscles enjoy what they do. 

When an actor does something wrong onstage, out front our muscles reject, refuse to accept.  (Much of what we call enjoyment at the theatre is the result of acting empathetically along with the actors.)  There aren’t many kinesthetic people left.  However, if football players weren’t kinesthetic, they’d get killed.

Sense memory means that one’s senses are responding more vitally than other people’s and that one is capable of storing up sense images.  Without a sense memory, one will never be an actor.  The class as a group did not continue its search for people who were visual or auditory people so that you could study them.  There isn’t time to search out and study someone of the current type once you get into a play.  It is through kinesthetic responses that we understand, and understanding is being in somebody’s body for a moment.  I don’t have to tell you so-and-so was a dancer and one of our best actors; his body telegraphs this.

Elizabethan improvisations: People onstage and put in motion, walking with some objective to secure food, shelter, clothing, etc.  They are told that now it’s 1600 and there’s a ship in from the Orient and they’ve money in their pockets and there’s a new play opening at the Globe . . . Hamlet . . . 

More animal imitations:  One girl tries a penguin.  The “whys” of its behavior, its motivation discussed.  She then changed into a human like a penguin.  The question is raised, is a penguin as dumb as this?  Why did Anatole France write a satire on penguins?  They have no legs and so can’t move rapidly, otherwise they’d be thrown off balance, but are a graceful bird. . .

Monkeys are so alarming because they are so close to being human that we see ourselves.  Even if these animals take a stationary position for a long time, they have a latent possibility for quick and ready movement . . .  How do you know when a cat that it still has latent power?  It begins with the eyes.  What’s back of the eyes?  Cat opens and closes lids, but its eyes are already in focus when they open, as if it has been alert all the time the lids were closed.  They are awake often when they appear to be asleep. . . Five animals are put onstage as if in their natural setting and allowed to respond to one another, thunder, lightning, wind, a falling tree, fire.  Then they turn human and are at a cocktail party.  Back to animals.  Back to party.  All are advised to “preserve your instincts” as they go back and forth between animal and human states.  Self-preservation!  Ladies, you’ve got to have a man!  Dance!  What do you do at cocktail parties.  Drink!  Talk about plays!  Make it realistic!  Snub her.  Etc.

Old age studied through kinesthetic sense.  Nerves in lower spine usually control movements: in old people they are not responsive and the mind has to consciously direct the raising and lowering of an arm, a leg.  Fatigue hits the lower spine and causes us to droop.  Actors act with their spines.  Watch people’s spines.  Even animals in a cage have a sense of self-preservation; watch their eyes.  Movement should start in the spine, travel into the shoulders, out arm . . .

Boy does snake.  Excellent; all spine.  Turn human now.  What are “snake” qualities?  It attacks; it is often a slow thing; its protective device is its fangs -- but as a last resort; quick movement is another; camouflage; could easily get lost among a group of people; frightens us because we don’t see him until there is a movement; are a part of the landscape; are close to ground and the same color; can slip among things; you meet a snake often in drama.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

DEEP EXPERIENCE



“The Bone Chalice” -- which began as my D. Min. thesis proposal -- now appears to be a lifework, morphing and splitting as it goes.  Partly because it began as an academic exercise in hoop-jumping, it has been necessary to pry open a chrysalis of assumptions, footnotes and previous books by experts to get at the soft and potential larva within.  It appears that -- for me at least -- that takes a long time.  While I was in seminary, a fellow student who was a nun (it may have been the one David Loehr tried to pick up at Orientation, the sort who wears skirts and cardigans) told me I was post-Christian.  I went with that idea for quite a while.  Now I have a new idea.

I’m saying I’m “pre-theological.”  Previously when others responded to what I proposed, partly because I defined it as about “liturgy,” it was usually seen in terms of that person’s institutional liturgy: the mass or baptism or a communal meal.  People can’t be blamed for categorizing new things according to what they know already.  At first even I was looking at prescribed rituals, almost always in a written script.  But actually I was trying to discover principles that apply to “emergent” and particularly land-based (autochthonous) experiences.  

What I’m after is what I might call “deep experience,” moments of intensity that can reorganize the mind -- and heart. This takes me close to the people who use substances or other short-cut mind-altering strategies, but that wasn’t what I wanted to think about either.  It could also take me off onto a side trail about electroshock therapy but I’ll resist.  It could tempt me onto the rather shaky ground of the quest for the Big O, orgasm as the best experience there is.  In religious terms “deep experience” might be called hierophany (that’s Eliade) or theophany (more specifically a direct experience of God/theos) or maybe epiphany or conversion (Saul into Paul) and so on.  I was more interested in the sort of thing like the old days when Blackfeet young went up on the mountain to fast and meditate until their protective totem visited them.  Some people claim that voluntary torture will do it (Sun Lodge) or any high-adrenaline situation (combat).  As you see, vocabulary is a big problem -- there are not enough useful words.

It remains to say that Czikszentmihalyi  and his ideas about “flow” are valid and approach “deep experience” but there is still another step to make it “spiritual” -- a word that has become so trendy that I’d like to go back to the more traditional “sacred” or “holy.”  This approach is “instrument-based,” the instrument being the human body (not just the brain but including the brain) in every sensory and skill dimension, producing a harmony that is probably expressed in brain waves, a kind of music, a sort of harmony with the cosmos.

Part of the reason I kept getting re-captured by traditional or even experimental institutional liturgies became clearer when I looked back through the centuries:  since writing was invented (let alone the printing press) it has controlled religions.  Theology is a creature of written words.  When the focus of development moved to written dogma and specific words  language became overwhelmingly important.  It was all code and laws.  Among the UU’s, at one point the hymnal was revised to throw out all the “God” talk and then later it was revised (often by hand, women sitting in pews after church with stacks of hymnals alongside) to take out all the man/men.  The tunes lingered .

The Reverend Lillian Daniel

A UCC minister and religious writer, the Rev. Lillian Daniel, one of those honey-haired, blue-eyed good girls (only lacking wings), made a popular furor by declaring that she was bored by “spiritual but not religious” people who find God in the sunsets, whom she claims are invariably seated next to her on airplanes.  I don’t fly these days, so maybe that’s why I only find gorgeously diffracted light in sunsets  (very red right now because of forest fires) but that doesn’t keep me from “feeling” it with a sense of heightened perception.  I just give the same thing a different name.  

But Rev. Daniel wants that person in church.  She says, “There is nothing challenging about having deep thoughts all by oneself.”  She says you must, “dig deeply into a tradition that you did not invent all for yourself.”  Though she attended the U of Chicago Div School, she resisted the call of Bibfeldt ("both/and").  www.ucc.org/feed-your-spirit/daily.../spiritual-but-not-religious.html‎  I did not.  She’s welcome to her academic and institutional bias, but I find in those same sources what we might define as “the devil,” stuff that doesn’t work and actively hurts people.

Reflecting on Rev. Daniel’s assertion, I haven’t had many deep experiences in church with the exception of congregational singing, though there’s a great deal of suffering in the words of traditional hymns, so it must be the communal sound. Nor do I find that solitude is an obstacle to personal deep experience.  It’s not that I’m just roaming around in my subconscious with no reference to the world -- it’s more like the earth itself and my going to and fro on it is my text rather than the secondary interface of words -- with the exception of stories and some poetry.  I never have had an ecstatic reaction to dogma or morality.

I decided that I would chuck out any word-based liturgies, which means all those Middle-Eastern institutions that so love their books and transcribed rules and all the bookkeeping -- the numbers written in Saint Peter’s Pearly Gates no-fly book.  


Luckily, the recent scientific study of neurological brain function reveals that brain cells remember and think by patterns of molecule interaction supplied by the senses -- not just the five basic holes in the head (sight/sound/smell/taste/feel) but the whole body’s constant information loops from gut, feet, main organs, fingertips, orientation to gravity, state of arousal and so on.  The brain is only the sorting and settling bridge of the ship, where the monitoring thermostat and rheostat readings are managed and course corrections are issued.  It is in the brain that intense, passionate (deep) experience is determined and then experienced.  Remember that the brain is part of the body which need not be accessed through words.  

Put simply, the place to start is not the sheet music but with the instrument: the singer, the wordless song, and the dance.  If the body is responding to place, time and other beings, and has formed categories of thought that do not censor or distort, and if the body is expressive in sound and movement, then it is likely that the harmony of the pattern will yield the “deep experience.” Felt, not defined.

To summarize, this bottom-up approach to “deep experience” does not depend on intervention from above, via a book-based institution, but rather on holistic experience through the entire sensory body (guided by the management of the brain), allowing concepts to emerge from immediate experience, and expressing engagement with them through movement, including utterances.  This is an immanent theory of the sacred, even autochthonous since the world is taken as the ground of being.  It is therefore local, but unified by the capacities of the human body as an instrument of perception and expression.  Therefore it is in divergence from print-confined, pew-confined, pulpit-confined religious methods.  Some would say, "heresy."  I rule that irrelevant.