Things, arranged.

Yorgos Lanthimos Changes Everything in "The Favourite"

The way Lorgos Lanthimos envisions the nature of a dramatic scene is entirely unique and utterly connected to true life. Instead of the standard "rising action" model, where characters overtly escalate tension and conflict leading to a breaking point, Lanthimos has his characters withhold much of what is going on with them; sort of a very slow, almost imperceptible boil until at the last moment, one character almost nonchalantly sticks a knife in the other character. Sometimes literally and metaphorically. If you've ever seen a horrible scene unfold before you in real life, you know that very often things seem very under control until suddenly, things get out of control. Often this occurs without warning.

Lanthimos creates relationships and worlds filled with real stakes, to be sure. In The Lobster, characters must either begin a meaningful relationship or choose an animal to become for the rest of their lives. In his new film The Favourite, the characters played by Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone vie for the favor of Olivia Colman's Queen Anne with their futures at stake.

There is an intriguing social critique at work in both films that suggests the things we fight for or fight our way out of are far beyond our own control, and are the result of some strange cosmic absurdity on the scale of Samuel Beckett. Nevertheless, the characters in his films struggle, and struggle mightily. Yet the tone he sets is one of discomfort and impending doom, with an avoidance of revealing emotional indications on the part of the characters that we are so used to. This restraint makes Lanthimos' story structure astonishingly dramatic and tension filled in a completely unique manner.

Whimsy also plays a part in the worlds Lanthimos creates. Manners, behaviors and societal rituals are turned into hilarious, sometimes grotesque displays of human excess and vanity. This touch enhances the sense that the world we strive so hard in is often childish, clownish and even depraved. Watch the scene with the oranges and the naked man in The Favourite to experience this touch.

It takes a particularly disciplined actor to work in Lanthimos' worlds: one must find a way to carry the inner yearnings of the character while at the same time appearing to toss away any overt need. Weisz and Stone do this with great detail and depth, as the volatility of Coleman's Queen Anne puts both of them at risk at every moment. Playing it cool has never been this good.

Cinematically, Lanthimos' breaks new ground by employing extreme wide angle lenses that give the audience a literal "fish eyed" view of the world of The Favourite. The ornate palace rooms are captured as sprawling, distorted landscapes in which our characters to and fro in a strange, balletic manner. Lanthimos was involved in experimental and physical theatre early in his career, and his ability to choreograph actors bodies in space and time adds a deft layer of tension to the film as well. 

Without special effects or CGI / digital excess, Yorgos Lanthimos changes everything. He reminds us that the cinema is a young medium that is still evolving and ripe with possibility.

The Actors Guide to Human Nature

This may be off putting at the beginning, but bear with me...

Understand that all humans are inherently: Selfish, Stupid, Lazy.

Humans will always prefer to gain as much as possible while knowing the least and doing as little as possible.

Understand that the sources of all human desire are: Acquisition, Rivalry, Vanity, Power.

From philosopher Bertrand Russell: the need to have more, have more than another, be self-centered and seek leverage over others.

Understand that the hidden causes of human actions are: Fear, Guilt, Shame.

Humans are afraid of what they do not understand and will always be motivated to avoid or attack what they fear, or will pursue actions based on a fear of what others and their own consciences may judge them as. Humans carry guilt over who and what they have done, and endeavor to suppress it. Humans are ashamed of their own actions that are the result of their true nature and will try to dispel this.

Understand that the human circumstance is: Denial of all of the above.

Humans will always deny all of the above because it is simply too hard to face the truth of who and what they are.

Understand that the singular human capacity that counters this situation is:

LOVE.

From Jacques Derrida: after all is understood about humanity, there is hope because we have the capacity to love, which is the only human trait that can help a person rise above their condition.

None of these concepts are to be taken as cynical or pessimistic. They are simply attributes of a sentient being that is trying to find the “best” way to survive and thrive in the world. The capacity to love allows a human being to care more about something or someone outside of their experience, thereby raising the possibility of recognition, acceptance, examination and choice.

These choices then become human actions.

Love is Everywhere

The Edinburgh International Festival 2017

As Meow Meow careens through her cabaret re-fraction of Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid, she lays bare her broken-heeled down at heart seen too much / felt too deep train wreck life with wit, style and brutal self-awareness. She also takes us deep down into the depths of her psycho-sexual psyche with astounding virtousity in song, movement, effortless aerial work and deadly-sharp humor.

Meow Meow's little mermaid is longing for Love, but trying to define it, shape it, see it and say it becomes increasingly difficult as she attempts various stratagems to own it. The meta-feminist tropes are here, too: the problem of being objectified and wanting to be objectified, the need to be authentic and accommodating, the seemingly intractable problem of male unwokeness.

What makes Meow Meow's cabaret a shining jewel of a theatrical experience though, is the incredible presence, power, grace, style and vocal brilliance of Meow Meow herself. Her command of the room, the story, the music and the mode of performance are simply at a level akin to someone like Mick Jagger in a 75,000 seat stadium at the height of his powers. Rare, mysterious and to be reckoned with.

In deconstructing the idea of the classic cabaret chanteuse, Meow Meow informs her songs with the true-to-life flaws that are meant to be hidden beneath the polish and romance of the performer. The old school cabaret singer would drop a world-weary anecdote here, a witty bit of repartee there, but they would channel their true self-revelations into the song stylings. Meow Meow decides to expose the woman behind the persona and in doing so creates another layer of persona that creates a wonderfully complex experience for the audience: Meow Meow is a character created by the actress who is performing a cabaret, and her character is playing another character, and at the same time, she is pulling back the curtain to let us see woman inside of it all. It is a brilliant mirror ball game that ultimately reflects back to us our own flaws and hopes.

Meow Meow also employs a few just-for-fun surprises that play into this show on a show inside a show on top of a show concept. Is this a part of the show? Are we really supposed to do that? Wait. Okay. Is she really...? Who cares. We are in Meow Meow's firm, tickling grasp. Let's dive deep with her.

With Ad Infinitum, the heart is a Translunar Paradise

Jacques Lecoq created a startling physical vocabulary for actors that has become a recognized style throughout the world. Based in the rich and vast history of European clowning, Lecoq also brings the power and grace of the dance and ballet together with the natural, human centered movement attributes of the human body. Together, Lecoq allows an actor a wide range of specificity, complex characterization and stage presence that is unmistakable when articulated with virtousity.

Ad Infinitum theatre includes two Lecoq trained actors, Deborah Pugh and George Mann.  They are former students of my friend Jason Turner of l'ecole Lecoq in Paris, who taught me so much about what questions to ask about the human body in the theatrical space. Their show at this year's Edinburgh Fringe, Translunar Paradise, is a powerful and artfully rendered tale of life before and after loss.

Deborah and George play a simple couple from the early years of courtship and romance to the lonely and nostalgic final days of life. Their consumate command of Lecoq technique delivers detailed characterizations of the nuances of everyday living through the years: a meal, a walk, a disagreement, a heartbreaking loss and finally, death. All this while not a single word is ever uttered.

The accordian player and singer stands in as a sort of chorus, aiding the characters with a prop here or a helping hand there, all the while offering poignant and evocative vocalizations to enhance her languid accordian soundscape.

Theatre practitioners should always ponder the essential elements that are placed in the Time and Space of the Moment before an audience. What is necessary? What is the theatrical vocabulary being employed? What is extraneous? What is the central theatrical "gesture" of the piece? How does all this live in the realm of metaphor, which is the core identity of the theatrical impulse?

These days, more often than not, the stage is used and abused as a place for narcissistic identity politics, clumsy polemic, self-validation and trite, shallow observations masquerading as artistic profundity. It is the curse of the millenial theatre space, a place where the choir can be shouted at and the 'safe space' cuddle-need is indulged.

To see virtuousity of technique, universal human mysteries explored, questions asked without simple answers and the naked honesty of human frailty,  spend some time with Theatre Ad Infinitum's Translunar Paradise.  At the Pleasance Courtyard in Edinburgh.

 

Les Impressionistes

My imp

Chiam Soutine

The impressionists were a group. A generation, to be more precise. Schooled in the classical art academies and ateliers of Paris, they knew the masters and their medium.

For over twenty years they labored to find a public. Repeatedly rejected by the establishment Salon, they attempted to form their own expositions. There, the Paris audiences jeered, scorned and derided the work.

Degas, Monet, Cezanne, Marisot, Manet, Pisarro and their peers all went through dark periods of self-doubt and nihilism. Poverty and isolation took their toll on the each of them. 

Success finally came for some late in life. Houses were bought, children and families were cared for, the work gained traction with a slowly evolving public.

The idea of paint on a canvas as a representation of an impression eventually captured the imaginationm of the world.

Today, one can find their work splayed on countless calendars, coffee mugs, t-shirts, posters, journal covers and screensavers. Quite a journey.

To look closely at the work of the impressionists is to see how the artists stood on the foundations of form, color, line and shape and ultimately leapt off into the unknown.

Emotion, psychology, commentary and question became intwined with technique. 

Paris itself is something of an impressionist city. One wanders the streets practicing the art of the flaneur,  taking in the range of realities. A modern city, defining itself anew through tech, industry and commerce. An ancient city, built on cobblestones and cathedrals. A dream city, where the ghosts of Joyce, Beckett, Hemingway, Wilde, Stein, Baudelaire, Hugo, Proust, Sartre, de Beauvoir, Camus, Rodin and others found their voices. It is also a city of reflection: the poor immigrant banileues of the outer arrondissements surround the inner areas of tourists and the affluent and proud Parisians. One can feel the circle tightening.

My impression takes in all of this. This is the Paris of the 21st century. It is still beautiful in its ugliness, startling in its revelations, romantic in its character and hidden as it is open. To examine Paris is to examine the work of the impressionists: it takes time, patience, an open mind and above all, imagination.

Bach and the order of things

In the 1238, King Louis IX commissioned the gothic wonder that is L'eglise Ste. Chapelle on the Ile-de-France in Paris. Until the 14th century it was the private chapel of French kings, who lived on the small island in the Seine.

Today, apart from being a much visited tourist site, it is also the home of a range of fine concert experiences. The miraculous acoustics and intimate setting make it a perfect venue for classical music.

The trio a Corde Jacob played the Bach Goldberg variations the other night, preceeded by the Bach solo cello suites. The Goldberg variations were originally written for harpsichord, but listening to the music in the form of a string trio opened up the rich dynamics of the works by individualizing the intricate voicings, counterpoint and harmonies.

The trio Jacob is decidely French, and their interpretation of Bach was sensuous, romantic and emotional. This approach also took advantage of the finely tuned interplay of the three musicians, who played together with verve and joy.

Humanity has always attempted to articulate the divine, the heavenly order, the perfection of shapes and numbers through geometry, mathematics and design. Listening to Bach's unique order in the midst of the intricate gothic design of Ste. Chapelle is to contemplate this impulse. We know the cathedral is decaying before our eyes, we know the note just played is past, we know our time here in this moment is so fleeting.

Yet we acknowledge the order of things as the music carries us away.

 

A Simple Proposition

A simple proposition as a contribution to the debate over whether a government should fund the arts.

Fundamental Human Needs:

1. Food and Water
2. Shelter and Clothing
3. Endeavors and the Arts

Food and Water because we cannot live without them.

Shelter and Clothing because we cannot thrive without them.

Endeavors because we are conscious and physically inclined to consider, build, make and do.

The Arts because they make meaning out of endeavors, clothing, shelter, water and food.

Without MEANING, there is no reason for anything else.

Simple.

Mise en place, mise en scene

In the kitchen, mise en place refers to the chef's process of preparing ingredients and setting them in an ordered arrangement for eventual inclusion in a given recipe.

The selection, preparation and arrangement of ingredients before the cooking phase allows a chef to quickly access the right ingredient at the right moment when the heat is on.

A director's work requires a similar approach: selection of the text, selection of the performance space, selection of the actors, selection of the designers, selection (determination) of certain themes, throughactions, dramatic questions, aesthetic gestures, form, dynamics, etc.

Most of the time some of these ingredients are selected for us: we are hired to direct a certain play at a certain theater. Sometimes we are given certain key elements to work with: a certain actor, a certain designer.

That being said, the director must still engage in a careful process of mise en place: a clear understanding of each element, its nature, its benefits, its drawbacks, its role in the project. Then, when how to bring each element into the process and to what degree.

Once the heat is on, there is little room for error. The rehearsal period is finite, the opening night is set. When is the right moment for this element or that influence? How much sway does one allow the element when it is included? What is happening during the "cooking"? Are the ingredients blending correctly? Is one element underused? Is one overused?

Great chefs do not need measuring cups nor need to be told when an ingredient should be included. They work from feel, taste, observance, aroma and most importantly, instinct.

Successful directors develop an intuition for this process as well. Is it the right time for that note to the actor? Is it the right note? How are the elements coming together today? How will they blend over time? When is the dish ready to be served? Does this coincide with the schedule?

Many inexperienced directors begin the "cooking" process in a state of hope. They believe things will work themselves out in the rehearsal process. They have an overestimation as to their own leadership and artistic clarity. They have not examined the ingredients deeply enough, nor anticipated the potential problems with certain ingredients they have either selected or been assigned. Rehearsals become a labor, and dish begins to become confused. Timing is thrown off. Ingredients are not blending well. Unforeseen obstacles start to dominate the process. Ultimately, the project / dish served is muddled and unsavory.

Because the nature of many of the elements directors need are difficult to determine, there is always the potential for disaster. However, a director should engage in a rigorous process of learning the nature of each element that will be used.

Who really is this actor? What makes them tick? What are their assets? Their shortcomings? What do you know about their personality? What impact will their personal issues have on the project? 

How does this designer really think? What are their values, their impulses, their limitations?

Who comes to this theater? Why? What is the relationship between the project and the audience? What will it mean to them? What is the nature of the dialectic between the work and the viewers? 

Are your assessments / determinations regarding the text accurate? How well do you understand the writer's work / aesthetic / style / form / language / purpose?

Finally, are you being clear and honest with yourself as to how you believe all these elements will come together to make the best work possible? Are you serving another agenda? For example:

"I want to work with this person." Why? Are they right for this project, or right for you?

"I want to work with these people." Why? Are they the best you can get, or are they the best at making you feel good about yourself?

"I want to do this kind of work." What for? What does this work do for others?

"I love this play." So? Go and hug it in the privacy of your own room. Why should we love it?

"I have something to say." Write a blog post. No one gives a shit what you have to say. (Sorry, that's a particular irritation of mine: art as a narcissistic podium for self-expression.)

This aspect of mise en place interrogates the director / chef's own role in the cooking. Am I the right person to make this dish at this time? What is the task at hand? Do I understand what is required? Is my technique up to the task?

All of this work is a kind of mise en place, a difficult process that can bring a kind of clarity to the work. Before you turn on the burner, be sure the right ingredients are each in their place, including yourself.

May all your dishes be remarkable.

The universe in a quill

From the sharpened point of a quill, Shakespeare let flow a torrent of words that somehow described the entire universe of human existence, philosophy, politics, society, economics, family, love, theology, ethics, emotions and essentially every dimension a human being can experience.  That smallest of points, where the tip of the quill released the ink onto the page unleashed words that have never been equalled by anyone else who likewise put ink to paper.

I always took it for granted that a playwright living in an age after Shakespeare would on some level aspire to this most daunting of propositions: "to hold a mirror up to nature" as Hamlet declares. Mirrors show everything, the kind and the unkind.

In my own time as a stage director, I have observed an unsettling and noticeable shrinking of dimension, scope, use of language, thematic landscape and ideas in contemporary playwrighting. A gross generalization, of course, but nonetheless an identifiable trend.

After the Reagan era, we entered the Clintonesque anti-idealism of The Small Idea. Reluctant to stand for either traditional conservative ideas or the progressive vanguard, Clinton exalted in the concept of "The Third Way." Its upside was compromise for the sake of a perceived movement forward. Its downside was an entire generation raised to believe that the object in between, the Self, was to be placed at the center of  all experience. Call this "The Third Person" problem. Many "millenials" grew up perceiving themselves as distinctive beings who could see how their surroundings informed their circumstances and ultimately eschewed a personal politics of idealism for the practicality of self-advancement. This was the underlying legacy of the dotcom boom of the 1990s and the economic revelery that came to a crashing halt in 2008. Plenty was everywhere and committment was nowhere. Avarice was ennobled and sacrifice was derided. The third person belonged to no side of the great dialectic, and was therefore free from the the complexity of considering that the Thing and it opposite could actually exist in the same universe. Bush II and Obama were both men of this spiritually dwarfish generation, extolling incremental ambitions while couching their puny initiatives in the rhetoric of tradition: Bush waged war for oil and influence while at the sames time emptily puffing the words "freedom" and "democracy." Obama equivocated his way from flawed policies to doomed programs while at the some time hollowing words like "hope" and "justice." Both of them, lawyers by trade, were far more comfortable with the minutae of the legal brief than the frightening world of the Big Idea. 

In the cultural landscape of this realm of smallness stands the American playwright: armed with an MFA from some bona fide institution of higher learning, he or she puts quill to page, or more accurately, opens word processing software, begins writing in miniature and continues the diminishment to the point of invisibility. What are the subjects of these writings? They are by definition worlds defined by self-indulgence and rigidness of scope.

Let us name the familiar categories of American contemporary playwrighting:

The drama of identity politics - I, and those like me, suffer nobly at the hands of monsters and must be liberated because me.

The drama of blame - I, and those like me, suffer from the hypocrisy of previous generations and should have the sympathy of all because hurt.

The drama of pity - I, and those like me, feel terribly about the injustices of the world, and want you to feel terribly about them as well. For the low price of $45.00.

The drama of irony - I, and those like me, need to make ironic and witty comments about the state of things and need you all to hear them. For the low price of $75.00 (It's a comedy with a live band, after all!)

The drama of masturbation - I, and those like me, need to devise an evening of self-indulgent and undramatic claptrap that must include excruciating modern dance, original poetry and "physical theatre" because we are gifted and need to share our rare artistry all over your laps. Hey, it was only "pay what you can."

Thus, ever smaller and smaller is the scope of the modern american stage, and ever more righteously pedantic and polemic is the voice of the modern American playwright.

It is quite an occasion to stand among these people when 12 people, eight of whom are family and friends, attend these shows. The look of bewilderment and incomprehension is remarkable. They simply cannot understand why the world is not flocking to their mini-worlds.

It's pretty simple: real people just can't fit into the tiny room of your theatrical imagination.

Give me a writer, one writer, whose quill expands the world instead of conflates it.

The Power of Noh

 When form and the aesthetics of formal art are practised with great reverence for aproximately 600 continuous years, something transcendent occurs.

The Japanese Noh theatre is such an art form. On my recent stay in Tokyo, I went to the National Noh Theatre of Japan for an evening that was completely absorbing, mystifying and astonishing.

First, there is the space: the National Noh Theater of Japan space is configured in the classic Noh design. A long entrance on house left, the square stage supported by four distinct and named posts, an upstage area for attendants, a side stage area for the chorus, and a shortened doorway for entrances and exits. Audiences are seated around the space, with each section enjoying a distinct view of the drama.

Then there is the tempo. With absolutely still upper bodies, the Noh actors move their legs and feet in a highly disciplined pattern that most often resembles the tempo of a person moving with great deliberation while submerged under water. The long, measured entrances from the Mirror room to the stage area are completely mesmerizing. The combination of the actor's physical and mental rigor, the stillness of facial expression in the mask and the considered manner in which the fabric and weight of the elaborate costume all combine to create a surreal, dreamlike effect that seems to change the very nature of time and space.

Because Noh's aesthetic is so very concentrated and focused, I believe the idea of changing how we perceive time and space in the theater is connected to the heart of the form. All great theatre practices throughout history have attempted to wield some mastery over time and space. After all, these are the two fundamental elements all performative arts share in common.

The stories in Noh drama are often cautionary, moral and mysterious, owing much to their relationship to Japanese Buddhism. The narratives are far less important to the experience than the overall performance aesthetic. Rather than focus on Aristotelian dramatic devices or plot twists and deeply layered characterization to hold its audience, Noh focuses instead on the precision, focus, detail and immersive experience of the music, movement and style.

The form becomes a kind of vessel for the audience. We begin to suppose and instill emotion, depth of feeling and expressiveness in the still masks, smallest of gestures and distinct vocal tonalities of the actors and the chorus / musicians.

In the Noh, performance transcends itself and becomes pure ritual. The place of the performance takes on an almost sacred character. The overall effect is that one begins to understand much more about the incredible power of stillness, sound and gesture in time and space.