Dec 28 - Moving On

I have decided to relocate my blog to Wordpress.com. They have some features that I like, and so there you have it. If you wish to continue following along click on the link below.

http://actingschmacting.wordpress.com/

Dec 27 - Bye George.

While writing my blog my focus has been on myself (and rightly so I should think - it is my blog after all), but today's blog is dedicated to my teachers, and specifically George Lewis. I'd like to publicly thank my teachers for their incredible dedication and patience in dealing with me.

During the year and a half I have been taking classes I have had four wonderful teachers. George Lewis, Annette Toutonghi, Amy Thone, and Geoff Alm.

The first class I took, Intro to Acting, was with George Lewis. Here is a bit I took of the Freehold page

"...George Lewis (Founding Partner, Associate Director) has been working in the field of movement theatre for over 30 years. His background includes extensive study in corporeal mime with Etienne Decroux in Paris, in the Biomechanics of Meyerhold with Russian master teacher Gennadi Bogdanov, and circus skills at the National Circus School in Paris. His work is deeply steeped in the tradition of ensemble theatre and original creation: he has worked with Mirage and Studebaker in Boston, Omnibus in Montreal, and the Sykes Group in Seattle. He has been teaching acting and movement across the U.S. and Canada since 1978, and currently teaches for the Dalcroye Society down at Cornish College for the Arts, and as core faculty at Freehold."

George is a great teacher. George is intimidating (and not just to me). He pushes you gleefully, sarcastically, out of your comfort zone, and sometimes you hate him for it. I took the Intro to Acting, Movement, and Personal Clown classes with him, and especially in the case of Clown, because he was the teacher.

I almost didn't sign up for clown because it sounded intimidating enough and the fact the George was teaching it made me even more scared. I actually had signed up for an improv class instead, but then I switched. I knew the fact that clown scared me so much, was probably an indication that I needed to take it. So I did.

It was a profound class, and I am grateful that I took it. Even more so now because George is leaving Freehold, at least for the while, and who knows when the opportunity to work with him will come up again. Here is an article about him leaving here.

Universally my teachers have been supportive and encouraging, which I know is their job, but they seem to really enjoy it (then again, they are actors...hmmm). Still, I am going to think it is genuine.

The other night I got to see them perform. Freehold was having a benefit and going away party for George. The teachers all did little scenes. It was great to see. I haven't really seen any of them perform, with the exception of Annette Toutonghi, whom I just saw in The Women at ACT Theatre recently.

I enjoyed all the performances. They were good, which is what you would hope since they are supposed to know their stuff so they can teach it to me. Although I guess they only have to be better than me, which at this point wouldn't take much.

After the benefit there was a going away party for George. It was very touching to see. He was sad about leaving and started to cry. Robin Lynn Smith the other founding member of Freehold there, started to also cry. Other people cried. It was very emotional. I got to say goodbye to George and got some last words of encouragement from. He said it was great working with me and that I should keep going. When you hear stuff like that from someone you respect, what can you do? I plan to keep going.

Dec 26 - Sunday at the Opera with Clowns.

I am finally getting around to posting again. Without having classes, I find my inspiration running a little short. Add to that the fact that I had the flu last week and I will throw that up as another reason for not writing. Although my fever induced rambling might have been more interesting.

I have done a little bit with acting. On December 16th I got to take my clown out in public. I had seen an audition notice looking for clown extras for a promotional video for the Seattle Opera's production of Pagliacci. They were looking for people who were willing to dress crazy and preferred people with an already established clown character. How perfect.

I emailed the people in my clown class, and three of ended up doing it. We had to show up in costume at 8:00 am outside the Seattle Opera's stage door. From there we were ushered into a holding area. I was the first clown to arrive, but soon others came. Two guys from class showed up, so we had fun chatting while we waited for the area we were shooting in to get enough light.

We were to shoot in the entry atrium of McCaw Hall which is apparently lit only by natural light. In Seattle the sun doesn't come up until 8:00, and we ended up waiting until 9:00 to start shooting. This gave us only 2 hours to do this part of the shoot, because McCaw Hall was opening at 11:00 to let people in for the Nutcracker matinée brunch. Who knew they had a brunch?

The basic storyline for the video is a hick from the country gets the idea in his head that he is going to try out for the lead role in Pagliacci so he can become famous. He shows up at the Opera House thinking it won't be a problem only to find a long line of clowns already there to audition. Discouraged by the fact that he has competition he uses some less than ethical means to try to get ahead, beating up one clown and stealing his accordion, cutting in line in front of a little kid (who later beats him up), etc...

My part was being one of the clowns in line to audition. I ended up being the second clown in line behind a mime. My job was to act like I was about to audition, alternately being nervous and psyching myself up. Two security guards dressed in all black would yell out "Next!", inspiring panic in whoever was next. The guards were meant to be intimidating, looking like Secret Service agents, sunglasses, dragging us in, and then when our audition failed, throwing us out.

So I had to be nervous, psyche myself up, and then become very scared when my turn came up. The thing about doing film is of course you end up doing the same thing over and over and over again, so the camera people can get all the different angles they need for editing. The challenge of being an extra (and an actor who actually talks - I imagine) is keeping your energy up the 7th and 8th time.

I had already had a headache, but after the first hour it was pounding. The were some long stretches where I got to sit while they were shooting the back of the line. I'm not sure if it was good to sit because my head pounded less, but then I lost my energy, so it was a struggle to get motivated when I had to do my bit again.

11:00 rolled around and they opened the doors to the public. We finished in the nick of time. My payment for the gig is two free tickets to see Pagliacci. I have never been to the opera, so it will be interesting. And it was fun to get the clown out after two weeks off. It is funny, but the other two guys and me all said we missed clown class, which considering how we felt in the beginning, and most of during, is a testament to how profoundly altering that experience was.

I packed up the clown costume and put it away, with the costume from the play I did last summer. My drawer is getting full of costume bits and props. I am going to have to find a place to store all this stuff, because I am sure I will need it someday.

Dec 12 - End of the Fall?

I had my final Stage Combat class last night. Mostly review. We have started doing rapier with dagger - at the same time. Yes, now we have a pointy metal object in each hand to wave around and hit ourselves and/or the other person with. Mostly I hit myself.

It is very fun, but it feels rather like learning to drive a stick shift. You have the clutch to work, shifting, steering, and braking with that car. With rapier and dagger you have parrying, attacking, footwork, and choreography to keep track of.

For instance, your partner attacks you. You have to step back, parry, do some sort of binding away (getting their sword away from you using your sword), and then attack them while moving forward, and keeping whichever pointy object isn't being used for attacking pointed at your opponent to cover your guard, all while cycling through the assigned configuration of targets.

It seems we just started getting things cooking and now we have a month break. School doesn't start up again until January 12th. So what am I going to do with myself.

My plan is to work out a lot to get into shape. I have been eating my way through the Fall. When the daylight decreases here I start to go into hibernation mode. About mid-October I start wanting to eat every thing in sight, which I do. It took me a few years to realize there was a pattern to this, but about every fall I gain about 6 - 10 pounds in about 3 weeks. Then I spend the rest of the year getting that off only to start again in October.

Since I have been aware of this pattern the past few years, I have managed to keep the weight gain down to about six pounds instead of the top of the scale 13. I of course say every year that I am not going to let this happen. I even signed up for a weight lifting class and a boot camp class.

I was eating a lot, but I was working out a lot. Then I had to have surgery twice to remove some flesh (unfortunately not the 25 pounds worth). My subconscious mind took advantage of this and somehow I kept finding pints of Peanut Butter and Chocolate Haagen-Dazs in my shopping basket. And oddly enough I am up about 7 pounds.

Hmmm...coincidence?

Anyway, I get my stitches out tomorrow. Then my plan is to go running Saturday morning early with some people from the bootcamp class. Then Monday morning I am back to the weightlifting class in the morning, and back to Aikido in the evenings.

Oh yeah, I am going to start eating healthier too. I polished off the last of the Haagen-Dazs last night, and I promise that no more shall appear (at least until next October).

Dec 5 - Under the Knife

Since I don't have much to talk about acting wise now that school is winding down, I guess I will have to talk a bit more about the other areas of my life. Yesterday I had a little minor surgery. I now have about twenty stitches in my lower abdomen(very low abdomen).

I had had a mole removed about a month ago. They cut it out and sent it to the lab. Well it came back "atypical", which according to my doctors does not mean cancer. They stressed this to me over and over. "It's not melanoma. Really."

Anyway, as part of standard treatment when they get this sort of result back from the lab is to cut more off of you to make sure they get any little atypical cells that might be heading off to explore the wider world.

So yesterday I popped downstairs (I work in a hospital - how convenient) to get cut up. I make a point of letting the nurse know I work there. I do believe I get better service. Not that I wouldn't get good service anyway, but I get a little extra friendliness, because they know they might see me around the cafeteria or in the elevator. And we're family.

The nurse takes my vitals and takes me to the procedure room. It's huge this time filled with all sorts of medical machines. In the center of the room is the bed under the big metal operating lights hanging from the ceiling like alien space daisies. It looked serious.

The first time they cut the mole off I was in a tiny exam room, which doubled as a supply room. As they were working on me people kept coming in asking, "Where's the V-4 tube sutures." or whatever (I made that up by the way in case you are a medical person saying to yourself, what in the world is a V-4 tube suture?)

So the contrast between the storage closet and this big tech filled room had me worried. Luckily when the doctor came in he waved a hand to the machines, and said don't worry we won't be using any of that. Whew!

The doctor came in with a stack of CD's, one of which he put into a CD player. His son made him a mix CD to play during surgery, which I thought was a nice idea. Something to distract the very nervous person who has a phobia of needles and scalpels.

I was a micro bit more relaxed because I knew what to expect more or less. The doc numbed me up, and started cutting away. When he was done he plopped the little chunk of me into a liquid filled jar to send off to the lab. It was about the size of the last two joints of my pinky, and all pink and bloody. Yum.

Of course while the cutting is going on we are chatting about where I work in the hospital, and who I work for. Turns out the doc worked with one of our research groups, so he knew my people. A little light work chatter, a little soft music in the background. All I needed was a drink in my hand, voila! Cocktail party.

I got all stitched up, and got my bandage replacement materials from the nurse. I was feeling pretty good because everything was still numb, so I popped down to the cafeteria for some lunch with my friend Bucky. Something about surgery makes me hungry. Maybe my body had realized some of it is missing, so it wants to replace it as quickly as possible.

I went back to work for a while to finish up some payroll things I had to do. People in my office were like, don't you want to go home? I said I am still numb and feel fine. I might as well take advantage of it. I did leave a half hour early to catch the bus home

All was good until about 9:30 last night when the last of the anesthetic wore off. Ouch! I stayed home today so I can lay out in my sweat pants moving as little as possible. I can't take a shower until to tonight, and then I get to replace my bandage.

I am looking forward to seeing what my scar will look like. The doc said he would give me a nicer one than the last person. I am glad for that because the last scar was bumpy at the ends. I know a lot of people aren't going to see it, but still I don't want to be lumpy.

Dec 3 - Taking it easy and down the road.

This quarter is almost over. Clown has wrapped up, and I have only two more Stage Combat classes. I heard we get to start dagger next class, so I am looking forward to that.

With Stage Combat over on the 15th I should have a month off from school. On the one hand that is a nice thing to have a little break and some home time. My girlfriend is infinitely patient with my schedule, but she likes to see me now and again. On the other hand, I am anxious to get going. I could do with 2 weeks instead of a month, but I have no say.

There are four classes I want to take next quarter. Actually there are six, but I can't do them all as some of them are at the same time. But it is possible for me two swing the four classes depending on a few factors, the main one being money. But hopefully i will be getting a little extra cash into the coffers soon, but I don't want to count my chickens ahead of time.

Still, assuming that I do get the money (or break down and use the plastic) the four classes I want to take are: Stage Combat (have to continue with this to get certified), Auditioning (helpful if I plan to audition), Voice (I really need this, trust me), and Accents (eets jus fo' fun gov'nor).

The classes start and end at different times, so I would only actually be in all four classes for about a week and a half. But that week and half I would be in class every night. And of course in that week also happens to be my girlfriend's birthday. I better start buttering her up now.

So that's my plan for now. I guess we will see how that plays out in the next few weeks or so. My other dilemma is what am I going to write about while I am on break. My life is fairly boring. I guess I will just have to see if I can make it more interesting.

Dec 2 - Clown on.

First, it's hard to believe that it is December already. Second, it is hard to believe clown class is over. This last Wednesday night was our last class. It was pretty much a normal class format. We did some warm-up exercises, and then we formed the Ring. But it wasn't the Ring of Clown Shame, or the Ring of Burning Clowns, or the Ring of Clown Humiliation and Terror. This time it was just the Ring.

I guess we have improved. I wasn't filled with dread, and neither was my partner. The ring assignment was a two person trick. Our trick was that my partner clown, Looster, was going to hold a cup in his mouth while sitting on one of those big exercise balls. Then I was going to bounce a ping pong ball off the floor and into the cup. Ta Da!

We hadn't practiced our trick, because we have learned by now it doesn't matter whether we succeed or fail; it is more about how we deal with the situation and each other.

So not only were we ready to go out there with a unrehearsed trick and see what would happen, we weren't completely blown out of the water when George said to the air aloud as we started, that he sure hoped this wasn't another ball trick, because he had seen enough of those. Not so subtle message: You better come up with something else. Now.

We had our moment of panic. Then I came up with an idea. I would get Looster to lay on the ball. He took some convincing but he lay down with his back on the ball. He still had the cup in his mouth from when we had started the other trick. I put a ping pong ball in the cup. Then I started to lift up his legs and my intent was sort of to wheelbarrow him around on the exercise ball. He didn't want me to pick up his legs. He started to squirm, and almost lost the ball out of the cup. I was trying to hold him up and straighten the cup so the ball wouldn't fall out.

It was physically hard for me. Looster is about 6 feet tall, so I am holding him up and the ball is making it hard for him to balance. I am trying to hold him still so the ball won't fall out. Apparently it was funny to look at because I heard people laughing. He still had one hand on the floor to balance himself. I was trying to get him to pick it up so I could roll him around, but he didn't want to. Eventually he did and we completed the trick.

We actually were successful. And at a trick we made up on the spot. And we stayed in our clown characters. And we were funny.

What do you know? I guess we learned something. We went from dreading class and feeling like horrible failures, to flinging ourselves off the cliff just to see what would happen. Giving up on the idea of failure always being a bad thing. Learning to pay attention to our partners, learning to follow the propositions offered, learning to follow the threads of the story. And maybe most important of all, learning to have fun doing it.

I think everyone should take clown class. It's character building.

Nov 26 - I can't drive 55.

Back from the Turkey Day holiday and my visit to Gluttonville and Slothtown. I didn't have any acting classes this weekend due to the holiday, which was actually kind of nice. A chance to relax on the weekend for once.

Still, I am looking forward to going back to clown class on Wednesday. It is the last clown class. And then I should have Stage Combat for another two weeks or so, and then I am on break. What am I going to do with myself?

Last clown class we did some more warm up exercises, which I can remember exactly due to senses dulled by overeating. Then we went on to more of Three Clowns on a Bench Doing Nothing. We all were low energy. I was still getting over my cold. We went up, we fizzled out, we sat down.

My next time up I vowed to be more energetic. The hard thing I found was getting a response from my partners. Not that they weren't trying their little clown hearts out as well, but it felt like we were not on the same wavelength to me.

The idea is we sit there waiting for something to happen, and then when we get a proposal of some sort, we try and follow the thread. I felt like I proposed things and no one picked up on them. I felt like I was tossing dead pigeons in the air. Fly. Be Free...

Thunk.

My partners probably felt similarly. Especially the first time up. Oy, that was a painful go. The second time I tried to make myself and my proposals clearer so that someone would notice. Hey, hey, look at me.

We finally got something going. Something really stupid, but that's clowns for you. Then I got too big. I dumped one of my partners on the floor (don't worry she let me). In clown reality that was a serious assault that came out of nowhere. It's not that I couldn't dump her on the ground, but it was that I did it without enough build up.

Sort of like going from zero to sixty without the speed build up in between. I went from about 15 mph to 60 instantaneously. Bam! Even if 16 to 59 mph had taken a few seconds, the build up would have been visible and then the 60 mph dumping off the bench would have made more sense. Not a horrible mistake, but an interesting one.

Nov 21 - Just say No.

It's the penultimate clown class tonight. We have this weekend off and then next Wednesday is the last one. What am I going to do? What am I going to complain/write about?

Last class was really quite fun, even considering I was in the middle of a cold, and my nose was full of snot, and my energy level was running about 40% of its already low level. I guess this is the one time I didn't mind wearing the clown nose. Normally it is hard to breathe through, but since I couldn't breathe any way, it really wasn't an impediment. Plus it helped keep the snot from running down my face.

We did our last element of our Element Embodying Exercises. Air. We gusted, breezed, and whirlwinded ourselves around the room for a while, slowly adding more human elements in. Then George asked us what element we thought was most dominant in our clown. I think its Air for ol' Smarly. There is quite a bit of Earth in there too I think. Heaven and Earth.

We did a fun exercise after that where we were just three clowns sitting on a bench doing nothing. We self-selected our groups of three, went up, put on the nose, came out and sat down on a bench just big enough for three clowns to sit side by side.

George made us sit there waiting until we actually were doing nothing, and then let us go. It was funny how all the quirky mayhem that ended up developing started from nothing. There was no preconceived plan, there was no trick to do, nothing to think about. Just three clowns sitting on a bench doing nothing.

But it is hard to sit still, especially for a clown. Soon enough someone would start twitching and fidgeting. Then another clown would react to that, and that would cause some other reaction, until things spiraled out of control, or they died energetically and then George would tell us to go, and the next group would come up.

The first time I was up I was sitting on the end of the bench in Clown Position 1. We sat for a bit, and then the middle clown (Position 2), turned to me and said "Soup" in his Ukrainian Clown accent. I looked at him like he was a freak and scooted a little further away from him. Clown 2 kept saying "Soup" and eventually roped Clown 3 into saying soup. Then they were both saying soup at me. I thought they were weird and scooted further away.

The kept saying soup as if they wanted me to say soup, but I didn't want to say soup. It was like a 70's after school special. There I was on the school playground and the bad kids come up and offer me drugs. No, no, I don't want your drugs. Yes, yes. Try it. Just try it. Soup. Soup. Soup.

NO!

I was barely on the bench at this point, really only being held on by Clown 2 as he tried to pull me back and make me say soup.

No.

I was weakening. Maybe I should just say soup and get it over with. Then they would leave me alone. I tried, but no sound would come out. Ssss....sssooooo...No.

Soup!

Ssss...soooouu....No.

SOUP!

sssss....ssooo.....sooooo....No.

Finally George told us to stop. I had survived without saying soup. The teacher watching the recess came over and shooed the bad kids away.

Whew!

The second up was funny but different. I was in the middle this time. At some point Clown 3 ended up on the floor, and then I was squished between Clown 1 and 3 as they fought, and then I ended up on the floor. I have no idea.

All I can say is it was fun.

Nov 15 - How many clowns can you fit in the eye of a needle?

Another clown class down. It's hard to believe but there are only three classes left. I feel like I need at least another year doing this, if not more. I could not say I achieved any sort of competency yet, unless consistent failure is a kind of competency.

More clown games. The other night in class we played clown keep away. Similar to the clown relay race in its purpose of letting our clowns out to play. We had two teams of two clowns each. One team would throw a ball back and forth between them, trying to keep it away from the other team. If the other team got the ball the roles were reversed.

I can only imagine what it looked like to someone watching from the outside. At some point I was at the bottom of a clown pile-up as we were all struggling to get the ball. I have some skid marks on my kneecaps from diving to get the ball.

Clowning is dangerous.

I also whacked my head good last night being a monster under the table. In that game one clown gets to be under the table (the monster), while the other clown has to get on the table from one side, and jump off the other side without getting touched. In trying to reach up and get the other clown I kept forgetting I was under a table and whacked my head repeatedly. I did finally succeed in dragging my victim under the table and chewing on his leg a little, so I guess it was worth it.

Last night we had to do a trick. I have written about doing a trick before, but this time we had to do it with another person. We didn't get to practice before hand because our schedules conflicted, but it didn't really matter. The trick isn't really the important part, it's what we do in the process that is important.

Our trick was that one of us would hold a stick that had a ring, about 8 inches in diameter, tied to the sitck by a string. Then the other clown was to bounce a tennis ball once on the floor and have the rebounding ball go through the hoop. Simple really. Of course we didn't get it right.

But then as we keep getting reminded, success isn't the most important thing. It is the interaction that is important. The focus of these exercises is to be able to spot "threads". What's a thread? It is sort of hard to define, just as it is hard to notice while we are up there in the ring and doing our tricks.

Threads are a moment, an event, that can potentially lead to another state of interactions. Maybe someone sticking out their hand for a handshake. It's a proposition, that can then be followed. You take the hand, or you don't. You take the hand and you don't let go of it, even when the person wants you to. You don't take the hand and then the person is hurt and starts to cry, and then what follows?

The hard part is learning to recognize the potential in all these moments (some are better than others), and have the imagination, and commitment really, to follow the thread to the end.

Too often we drop the threads before we get to the juicy part, mostly out of indecision and fear of doing the wrong thing. It's that commitment thing I keep hearing over and over again in my classes. I guess it must be important.

Nov 13 - Release the clowns!

Wow. It has been almost a week since I posted. There goes my plan to write something everyday, or at least every other day. I will say in my defense that I have had a pretty busy week.

Stage combat class is chugging along. It’s fun, but doing it only once a week for three hours is hard. I would rather twice a week at 1 ½ hours. I pick thing up pretty quickly, but I think doing them more than once a week would help get them in the brain better. It’s hard to practice at home without a partner, not to mention a rapier.

Clown is going along. Last Wednesday’s class was a bit of a turning point. We finished off the clown naming ceremonies for those who hadn’t done it yet. The collective clown names are Vergie Marathon, Samsonite, Nyquil, Looster, Stinks, Skoofus, Smarly, Special Roe-mo, Frank and Johnson.

Then we moved onto clown introductions. Two clowns would come out and be surprised by each other, then they would introduce themselves with their new names, and then somehow that would play into some sort of quirky exchange that would trundle along until it ran its course and the clowns left the stage.

We also did a clown relay race. We had two teams of five, and clown had to do 5 activities and then run back and tag the next clown in their line. The first team to finish won (or so we thought).

The trick was that we had to be in character. You couldn’t just run the relay to win; you had to react as your clown would. So if you were a ditzy clown, you might just have to forget what it was you were supposed to do. If you were an emotional clown, you might have to spend time crying when you messed something up.

The five activities were spin on your butt on the ground seven times, without using your hands. Jump up and down on one foot while patting your head and rubbing your tummy. Jump like a frog 10 times and yell “Gribbit.” Do 15 jumping jacks while reciting a line from a Shakespeare play over and over, and sing a bit of opera. The last two by the way couldn’t have been done by anyone else, and George hung out listening to make sure we didn’t repeat.

Anyway, to make a long story short, my team won. The losers were to bow before us and say something like, “Oh, magnificent winners, we bow before you and your greatness.” My team made fun of the losers, laughing at them etc. They of course didn’t want to bow down and in their best clown manner foot dragged the whole way.

But then a clown from my team touched a clown from the other team. George declared that a violation and then my team became the losers, and had to bow down, which of course we didn’t want to do. Now we were being mocked and we were doing the foot dragging. Think kindergarteners not wanting to lay down for their nap.

At some point in the clown mayhem, we started to laugh at one clown on the other team. I am not even sure why, someone else started it, but we all joined in. Then clowns from that clowns team started laughing. Finally George stopped us and ended the exercise.

The point of this? The first part of the relay was to explore being our clowns in different situations, and the ending part, was to learn to “follow the thread” and play off the situation as it develops. We thought we were the winners, then we became the losers, then we just went off to crazy land.

Nov 6 - Reality check.

This weekend went by relatively uneventfully. Stage Combat was more of the same. We reviewed the sword work and punches we had learned, and then added a few techniques.

For the unarmed part we actually started hitting each other with body contact blows. We learned that it is important to aim for the meaty parts of the body. Also we did a trick where as you hit someone, and your hand makes contact; you open your hand to make a flat surface, thereby spreading out the force, and as you pull away return the hand to its previous shape (generally a fist). This way you don't hurt the person. Much. It stings a bit, but nothing you can't handle, although I wouldn't want them to do it 20 times in a row in the same spot.

For the swords we worked on thrusting now as well as cutting, and we learned the blocks, parries, and binds for the different targets. It's fun, but my arm was sure tired by the end of class.

For clown we got a bit of a break. George was sick, so Brenna (his assistant) got to take over. She was not nearly as mean to us. The other clowns didn't get to have their naming ceremony yet, as that is George's bag. What we did work on was embodying the elements. You know the ones: Earth, Air, Fire, Water.

We did Water first. Laying on the floor we imagined that our bodies were full of water sloshing around very gently, just on the inside of the body. Then we increased the sloshing of the water in our bodies until it caused our bodies to move. We kept going until the force of our sloshing water got us up on our feet. Standing and sloshing in place for a bit we added the vocal sound of our particular water. Then we allowed the water to slosh us around the room. Here we were in our elemental form moving around the room as Water. Then slowly we added Human back in bit by bit until we were 90% human and 10% water.

What can I say? It's acting class.

We did Fire after that. Apparently we are going to save Earth and Air for the next class. Then it was on to Clown Emotional Competition, which I beleive I described before here. I won my bout. As part of the exercise I had to make the losing clown do something. I demanded she give me her pet frog she kept in her pocket. She started crying and then I felt bad. I mean my clown felt bad. Well, we both felt bad, which is an interesting phenomena.

Here I am having an emotional response to a clown who is crying because I want her frog. There is such a schizophrenic set of realities superimposed here. A: two actors, B: Two clowns. C: the fuzzy middle ground where A and B meet.

My actor reality is that I have to go up and emote more than the other clown, so I can keep the audience's attention so I can win, which I did. Job done. Actor would go sit back down, be moderately humble (at least on the outside). No humiliating the other actor. We save that for George.

Clown reality is that my clown won. Wahoo! Now I demand a prize from the loser. I see the frog. I can tell it is important to the clown. It must be valuable. Mine! I stretch out my hand to claim my prize. Gloating all the way. Mine!!

But then the clown starts crying. It's her best friend, she can't part with it. She is so sad. She doesn't know what to do. She looks around for help, but I hold out my hand again. More sadness, she sinks down to her knees, cradling her beloved frog. I feel bad.

But who feels bad? Is it my clown that feels bad, or me that feels bad? Both? And how bad does the other clown feel? Her sadness seems genuine; she doesn't want to part with her frog, and the reality is that I am going to the frog back to her in 30 seconds when we get backstage. So she has to make the loss of the frog real for her, which means both of us have to make this absurd situation real.

One of the definitions we keep hearing for acting is, "reacting truthfully in imaginary circumstances." I can see where this is true, where you have to act as if whatever happening is "real", but when you stop to think about it...it's weird.

Nov 1 - A clown is born

Yesterday I mentioned that I had two assignments for my Clown class. One was to write about what I had learned so far, the other was to come up with my clown’s name. The writing part was relatively easy considering I have been doing this blog, so I have been in the habit of writing about my learning experiences. Coming up with a clown name, however, was a different matter.

I had three days to figure it out. At first I would try and think of something and get frustrated and stop thinking about it. Then I would have a panic attack when I suddenly remembered I had to come up with a name, and I hadn’t been thinking about it. Then I would think about it, and then get frustrated, etc., etc.

Finally on the last day I had managed to come up with a name. I had been soliciting people for suggestions, and my friend Bucky submitted a long list. None of them rang quite true, but I chopped a few of his suggestions up, cobbled them together, and came up with the name Quilby or Quilbee (spelling wasn’t decided yet.)

I was now ready to go to class.

We started class off by almost immediately getting into clown clothes. We warmed up in clown and did a lot of vocal warm ups to get ready for the evenings exercises. The main exercise we did was a clown emotional competition.

The clown emotional competition consists of two clowns dividing the performance space in half, left side and right side. Each clown tries to get the audience to pay attention to them and not the other clown by using emotions. The audience votes during the performance by pointing at whatever clown they think is more interesting, giving the clowns immediate visual feedback on whether they are succeeding or not. At the end of the competition a vote is taken to see which clown won. There are points taken off for rule violations, like crossing into the other clowns side of the stage, or using something other than an emotion to lure the audience into looking at you.

So that’s the rule breakdown, but what does it look like? Imagine two clowns on stage side by side wailing with sorrow, laughing hysterically, stomping angrily, cowering in fear. Writhing, begging, flailing, jumping, moaning, waving to get attention. It is pretty exhausting after a minute or two. My score was one win and one loss.

The next big event of the night was the Clown Naming Ceremony. This is where we were going to get to use our names. Or so we thought. Really, it shouldn’t have surprised me what happened.

Here were the exercise guidelines as given. Come out on stage excited and ready to announce your name, then when it is time to say your name you forget it, you try and try to remember it, and then you do finally remember it, and then say it to the audience. Seems simple enough. Too simple (cue the creepy movie music).

So the first clown comes out. She goes to say her name; she forgets; she asks her stuffed frog she carries in her pocket; she tries to remember by looking at her clothes to see if her name is written on them; she looks at her hands; she wanders around on stage, and then finally she remembers. “Chrysanthemum,” she says victoriously. “My name is Chrysanthemum.”

“No it’s not,” says George.

Inwardly we all cringe as the panic sets in on the clown’s face. Now we know what we should have seen coming.

“It’s not?”

“No. What is your name?”

She starts looking around, lots of umming, and uh, and well, an hmmmm…

“Don’t you know your name?”

She hems and haws for a bit more and then looks at the medallion she wears around her neck. It is a Virginia Mason Marathon finisher’s medallion. She says tentatively, “Marathon?” She varies the pronunciation and accents on the syllables many times, then adds in Virginia, and runs through many variations until she gets Virginia M. Marathon (with Marathon condensed into two syllables: mare-thon)

“What do they call you for short?”

“Virgie.” Giggles

That turned into Fergie Marathon after a few more run-throughs. Her name was settled on; she came out and said it again. Ta da!

The next clown needed more coaching. She kept coming up with food words. Popcorn, peanut butter. George started asking questions like what is your mom’s name? where are you from? what’s your first pets name? (which turned out to be Skoofus and another clown was born.).

My turn up I came out and forgot my name, tried to pull it out of my mouth, whack it out of my head, until I finally remembered it…Quilby.

George looked puzzled and I had to clarify the pronunciation.

“Can you move like that sounds?”

I did a sidewinder walk laterally across the stage.

“What’s the opposite of that?”

I went down on my hands and knees and started rolling around on the floor.

“Get up. Say something.”

“Jelly.”

“No. That’s not it.”

I think I said a few more words until Smarly came out of my mouth. George seemed to like that.

“How do you move like that?

I moved around sort of like wiping of tables while doing the hula-hoop while on drugs. Everyone seemed to like that, so then I had to come out again and announce myself.

“My name is Smarly!”

Ta da! A clown is born.

Oct 31 - Know what?

It's Halloween. People keep asking if I will be dressing up for Halloween and doing something fun. I say that I have clown class tonight, so I will be in a costume, but I am not so sure about the fun part.

Last class went the same as usual. Our assignment was to come in and tell a joke. No one thought my first joke was funny. Then later I had to tell another joke, but again, no one thought it was particularly funny. I thought both of my jokes were (which is why I told them), but what can you do?

Our assignment for tonight is two different things. First, we are supposed to write about what we have learned so far. Second, we are supposed to come up with our clown name. Writing what I have learned so far shouldn't be too bad, mostly a case of organizing my thoughts, becaue luckily I have been writing this blog to help me process the clown experience. But coming up with a clown name is hard. I keep trying to think of things, but they all sound stupid.
So I am going to start with the easier of the two things and write about what I have learned so far. This is what I have submitted as my assignment.

What I have learned in clown class….so far.

My first instinct is to say I learned how to feel like an idiot, but actually I knew how to do that already. Though as they say, practice makes perfect. I wonder about the difference between learning something intellectually and then learning something practically. I have a lot of conceptual ideas that have a) been told to me, and b) I have observed in others and myself. Then there is the ability to put these ideas into practice, to show learning by doing.

I have been told by more than one of my teachers that commitment is vital. Make a choice and commit to it, even if turns out to not be such a good choice. I have seen the effect that commitment has on the performance of the clown in the ring. You can tell when the person is really going for it, and even if it is not laugh-out-loud funny it is interesting and engaging. Wishy-washiness is not funny, not engaging, and often comes across as pathetic. Putting commitment into practice however, is challenging for me.

To make a commitment you have to settle on a choice, which means that you have to have choices to choose from. I think this is the hardest part for me. I suppose this is following your creative instinct and letting your imagination go. My imagination needs exercise. It’s gotten flabby and atrophied by adulthood.

How did we spend hours running through the playground pretending the sand was hot lava and the jungle gym a spaceship? Now when I have to imagine things my brain freezes up. Either that’s because imagination doesn’t show up, and I left standing there like someone waiting for the last late-night bus to arrive. Or it arrives with smorgasbord of cornucopias and I have no idea which way to go. I don’t want to make the “wrong” choice. I’m trying to get over this, and it is getting better, but…you know.

I have also learned that failure is funny, which is a sort of weird thing. I should clarify that failure is funny to the people who are watching, not the person who is experiencing the failure. And I’ve noticed that it has to be a real failure to be funny. A fake failure isn’t funny. The person really has to be suffering, which it seems to me goes back to commitment. They had to be committed to something, then thwarted in some way, and then affected by the failure.

Maybe it is related to why we laugh when people walk into glass doors or fall down. They are really trying to get somewhere when they smash their nose on the glass or fall on their asses. If they faked running into the door, we would look at them and think, what a dork, instead of laughing hysterically at their misfortune.

Aside from commitment I have also learned about alternating levels of intensity, and that bigger/louder/wilder isn’t always better. Less is more and all that. Although, too much of less is too much. I guess it is the contrast between the two extremes. And you have to explore the middle ground, because if you just did the extremes that would be boring too. I tend to want to stay on the low end of the spectrum.

Then there is specificity of movement. Vague or generalized gestures lack impact and become tedious the more you use them, whereas subtle specific movements can be way more powerful and interesting. Working with the masks showed this really well, I think. Then there is specificity of intent, to have a specific goal in mind, a specific action to play. Going up with a vague sense of I’m going to make people laugh doesn’t work (as I found out here), but it is by trying to achieve something real that you become engaging.

So that's what I've submitted. Really that is a lot considering we are only half the way through class. I can say that I have learned a lot, and I have a lot to learn. And a lot to practice, because knowing this stuff and being able to type it out is one thing, but being able to do it is a whole other world.

I wonder what other crazy things we are going to learn. I know it will be interesting, and will probably (definitely) make me look like an idiot.

Oct 25 - Have you seen my sherpa?

It was Clown class again last night, but this time I don't have any great stories of personal failure to share. Why? Because I succeeded wildly? No, that can't be it. It was because I sat on the sidelines watching because I have 14 stitches in my lower abdomen, which makes me not want to spend my evening flailing about like a crazy person. (Mole removal, nothing serious.)

So I watched class. It was hard, because I actually wanted to participate. Actually wanted to participate, you say? Why wouldn't you want to participate? Ummm....because it's hard and I don't want to fail.

A guy in class and I have been discussing this the last few times. We are filled with a sense of dread about coming to class. Not enough to make us not go to class, but a sense of impending doom nonetheless. Like going to the dentist or the doctor. You know there is going to be unpleasantness, but you know it's good for you, so you go.

Why do we have dread? Because we know we are going to fail. It's set up that way, because in the moments of failure is where we are going to find the clown. Unfortunately for us, we have programmed deeply into our brains by our culture that failure is really, really bad, and you don't want to do it, because then you are a ... failure. (gasp!)

Of course the clown doesn't think of failure. The clown thinks of success. Clowns think they are going to succeed at whatever is they're up to. It is the performer who thinks of failure, and feels like shit. Right now, none of us are too good at separating the ourselves from the clown. So it is our ego that gets dragged down, and our soul that gets crushed.

Not that there are not moments of victory and success. And there are moments when we are genuinely making people laugh and that's good too. But unfortunately, as is also prevalent in our society, we have been focusing on the negative. And quite frankly there has been more down than up in this class so far. But I think that is good. Beat down that ego. That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger, etc.

Maybe it is like climbing Mount Everest. It's hard and harder. You can't breathe, your toes turn black and fall off, oh yeah, and you can die, but if you succeed then you have accomplished a great thing.

Well I am at Base Camp Two on Mount Clown. I can't see the top due to fog, but I am guessing it is there. Hopefully it will be sunny at the top.

Oct 23 - Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy.

I had Stage Combat class this Saturday. We had last week off because our teacher was out of town. I had forgotten to buy batting gloves to wear for working with the swords, so I used some gloves from home. Unfortunately they were fuzzy, which is nice when your hands are cold, but fuzzy translated into slippery when applied to the swords plastic handle. I had to squeeze twice as hard to maintain the same grip. My hands were pretty darn tired near the end there.

We reviewed the punches we had done before, and added a couple. Then we worked on punch combinations, and also punch avoidance techniques (i.e. ducking). We did several short combos. That was fun. It was like 1960's television western fighting. Yee hah!

We did more sword work, reviewed the basic strikes and blocks, and then we worked on some offensive parries. That was fun. The swords slide together and make cool metallic sounds. Very swashbuckly.

Sunday was my clown class. We have been doing this one exercise for the past few classes with some variations. I don't know if it has an official name, but I think of it as the Psycho-Emotional Scale exercise. Basically you start out at emotion level 0, which we will call neutral, and then work you way up to (almost) 7, focusing on one emotion at a time.

First, three people go up to the front of the class and sit on some acting cubes spaced a few feet apart. (Ah, acting cubes, where would we be without you?) We all sit with our hands on our laps, our faces emotionally neutral (well, as neutral as we can get anyway). The first time we did this we did joy/laughter.

Person on the left goes up to Emotional Level 1, which visually looks like a small, pleasant smile. A person in a good mood. That first person turns to the middle person, and the middle person takes it up to Level 1. Then they both turn back to the audience to exhibit Level 1. Then the middle person turns to the person on the right, who then takes it up to Level 1. Everyone turns back to the audience. We are all Level 1. Then far right person takes it up to Level 2, and then passes it onto the middle person. The process repeats until it reaches the end person who takes it up to Level 3, then back across to Level 4, etc. etc.

At Level 1, you get a subtle smile. Level 2 is maybe a bigger smile with a small chuckle. Level 3 is something like a laugh with the beginnings of a body movement, say arm waving, knee slapping, or whatever. Level 4 exaggerates everything. Level 5 is even more, and Level 6 is epileptic seizure levels laughter and movement. It is physically exhausting to be at Levels 4 through 6 for any length of time.

So here you are sitting on a cube with two other people, flailing about, cackling insanely while everyone stares at you and laughs. I love acting class.

The next time we did anger. A lot of growling. My throat was very sore afterwards, and I had to stop on the way home to get popsicles, which is the best medicine for a sore throat in my opinion.

The last time we did sorrow. Started out slightly sad, and then morphed into inconsolable grief and wailing, which started to turn back into laughter for me. It's hard not to feel ridiculous at times flapping about like a madwoman.

I am not sure what other emotions we might be doing. We've done the big three: Mad, Sad, Glad. What else is there?

Oct 19 - Burning Ring of Fire

Well another clown class has come and gone. I have to say that before hand I was filled with a sense of dread. Mostly because of our assignment. We had to come with a trick to do. Not only a trick that we can do, but a trick no one else can do.

First of all the category of trick is quite broad.

Card trick, pony trick, a trick you can do with you body (like crossing your eyes, or wiggling your ears). Standing on your head? Is that a trick? Juggling? They all sound like tricks to me. Since I can't juggle, I can't stand on my head, and I don't have a pony, I was left with cards and the body. Cards seemed to me to be more magician-like than clown-like, and anyone can do a card trick, so I ruled out the cards.

I do have a trick I can do with my body. Actually I have two, but the second one requires some nudity, and I didn't think that was appropriate to a classroom environment. I have this thing I can do with my fingers, where I make them wiggle back and forth like a snake. It is hard to describe. If I can figure out how to get some video of it, I will put it up. It makes my fingers look boneless, like the bones have been replaced with cartilage.

Anyway, I put my index fingers together and do a snaky movement. Wiggly Snake Fingers. That's it. That's my trick.

Not very many people can do it (that I've met), so it seemed to fit the bill. It also seemed sort of lame. I had envisioned that everyone else would be bringing in all sorts of cool things, and doing all sorts of cool tricks, so I had a back up trick. The problem was I couldn't really do my back-up trick, which was balancing a stick on my head, while I tried walking on my knees.

I was torn. Try the finger trick that I could do, or the back-up trick that I couldn't do, but which seemed cooler.

When I arrived at class (I always get there really early because I come from work which is only a mile away), one guy was there. He had brought a skateboard, and some croquet balls and a mallet, and a bucket to hit the balls into as he was riding the skateboard. It all seemed vary elaborate to me. Just like I had imagined, people had cooler ideas than me. My finger trick was looking lamer. I would go for the stick.

Then class started and we did our warm-ups and our exercises (more about a particular exercise in the next entry). Then came time to do the tricks. We set up the ring with our chairs, and put our props beside us. I set my stick next to my chair.

The first guy went. He had a rough time. The flames started rising and George's maniacal laughter started cackling through the smoke. OK, I am exaggerating, but there was some definite grilling going on. The first guy had no props and he didn't really even do a trick, which is what got him in trouble with George.

He showed us that he had nothing in his hands, and then pantomimed a magician making something disappear. Then he showed us his empty hands again, and said, "Gone," in a little sad clown voice. He made nothing disappear; he made nothing happen. George challenged him. So the guy took a quarter out of his pocket and pretended to make it appear. Magic.

George didn't let that go either. "Clown, Did you just pull that out of your pocket?"

"No."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No."

"Well, then make two more quarters appear."

And of course he couldn't do that because he had no more quarters. Lesson learned: You have to have a trick that does something.

I went next. I wasn't planning on it, but after the first guy, no one got up to go, so I did. I have been going first or second consistently because I like to get it over with, but I thought I should give others that chance.

At the last minute I decided to do my finger thing instead of the stick thing that I couldn't do anyway, which turned out to be a wise decision, because someone else got grilled for having a trick they couldn't do.

I came out, showed my index fingers to the audience. George said he hoped this wasn't a trick he had seen before, and apparently way to many times by his expression. I assumed that this wasn't likely, but who knew? Maybe many other people can do Wiggly Snake Fingers.

I clapped my fingers together and let them go. I could tell then by George's face that he hadn't seen Wiggly Snake Fingers before. I wiggled them center stage, then I circled the ring so everyone could see up close. Then I stopped, because really, I hadn't thought any further than that.

Luckily George "saved" me by asking me to sing the song that went with movement. I started with the snake charmer song (you know the one), but that seemed to predictable, so I just started la-la-la-ing, very off key and no particular melody. I went on for a while wiggling fingers and singing, roaming the ring, trying to match the sound and movement, but I couldn't sustain it, so I stopped.

"Is that it?" Implied: You'd better keep going.

"Um, no, that was just the first verse."

I started up again. Even more exaggerated, and I started to laugh because it was ridiculous. Luckily I noticed through my haze of nerves, laughter, and silliness, that other people were laughing too. OK, so this wasn't going to bad. I went on stopped.

"Is that it?"

"Oh there is an interlude."

I started up again. It was getting hard to breath in my clown nose. I was breathing hard enough that my clown nose was almost coming off my face as I breathed out and then sucking onto my face as I inhaled.

Finally, I stopped. "Thank you, Clown."

I got out of the ring, out of breath, and sweaty. Wahoo.

I watched the others. Some were hysterical, some were a painful, some were both.

Afterwards we got some notes. I got a couple of small critiques from George about trying to be too clever with the interlude comment. And a note that when I crack up to let it be the clown that has the laughter. Good notes.

Then we got our next assignment. Bring in another trick.

Now what am I going to do?

Oct 16 - Commitment issues

Sunday's clown class went better than the first one. There was still the Circus Ring of Shame and Failure (which I believe was one of the rings of Hell cut for space in Dante's Inferno), but more on that later. I had picked up some more costume bits. I bought a long sleeve bright pink shirt to go under my bee vest, and I bought a bright orange chapeau with a yellow daisy sticking out of the top. Very clown. With more clothing I felt more comfortable.

We did more warm up exercises, and then for the last hour we did the Circus Ring of Hell. Throw the clowns in to stoke the flames. I didn't go first this time. I think I ended up going second. The deal was the same. Walk in, discover the audience, make them laugh. The first guy got a pretty good roasting, so I thought I better go and get it over with.

Luckily for me, he left some props for me to work with. Part of his costume is a feather boa, which shed a few feathers onto the the floor. I came out discovered the audience. No comments from George. So far, so good. I waved at the audience a little nervously, looked panicky that I didn't know what I was going to do. Then I spotted the feathers. I knew they were there from when I was watching, and I had thought I might do something with them, but hadn't formed a definitive plan.

I walked over to one of the feathers, "discovered" it, and picked it up. I looked around the audience, and then stared at its former owner. Then I picked up the other feathers, and made a show of stuffing them into the fist of one hand, like a magician going to do a disappearing trick. Then I put my hands behind my back, put the feathers in my other hand, and made a show of how the first hand was empty. This got a few chuckles.

Then I stuffed the feathers into the back of my pants. A few more chuckles. Then came George's voice. "Clown, what is in the back of your pants?" Now I could turn around and try and look at my butt, then give a clown "I don't know" shrug.

George asked the question again. I then pulled out the elastic of my underwear for all to see. Luckily I wasn't wearing any of the holey ones. A few chuckles. I was feeling pretty good, now that I had sort of a bit going. It helps to have something to do out there. Just going out like I had the time before and flailing the arms and legs with no plan, I have learned, is a bad idea. Oh yeah, and not funny either.

I have forgotten how the thing ended exactly, but I got the "Thank you Clown" dismissal, but this time, I felt good about it. I felt like I had not crashed and burned out there, but managed to keep my head afloat a little above the water line. Score one for the clowns.

Different people had varying degrees of success and failure. What I began to see as a common thread in what worked is commitment. Now, we are always being told in acting school about commitment. We hear, "Make a choice, and commit to it 100%, even if it's the wrong choice it will be interesting." I can't tell you how many times I had heard some variation of this. Intellectually I get it, but I was skeptical of putting it into practice myself. I have commitment issues. Don't we all? We don't want to do the wrong thing.

Yet, the clown moments I was seeing that were funny and interesting were when the clowns were fully committed to whatever they were doing. Even if it wasn't laugh out loud funny, it was interesting to watch, and I felt hooked into what I was seeing. When someone was indecisive, it was completely obvious and took the energy right out of the performance.

So I learned something. "Make a choice, and commit to it 100%, even if it's the wrong choice it will be interesting." I guess those teachers know what they are talking about. What do you know?

Oct 15 - Send in the clowns.

I have had another week of clown class. Two more classes down, sixteen more to go, but whose counting? Not me.

Wednesday night's class was the first night that we put on our costumes. It was interesting to see what others had picked. Pretty much it was a mish-mash of colored prints, layered on in items that were either too big or too small. I had felt like my costume was lacking even before I went in, but definitely even more so afterwards. Everyone else had layered on more stuff. More paisley, more plaid, more big frilly skirts, more scary wigs. Everyone had a hat or wig, or both. My head was feeling naked, so I took a bright green bandana I had brought and tied that around my head, but it wasn't really cutting it.

We did our usual warm ups and in our regular work out clothes. George (our teacher) brought in some masks for us to work with. They were blank masks, painted bright white, with only the vaguest hint of a face. One mask, for example, was only an oval, sort of a cross between a bean and an egg, with just two holes for the eyes. Another had a suggestion of a beak, and another a rectangle (that looked exactly like it had been shaped by the end of a 2x4) as a nose. While the first three were definitely not human, the last had the beginnings of a human face, but again the emphasis was slight.

The masks were supposed to be neutral, or "blank", but it was amazing how much expression they had. You could see emotions in the masks, and then you could see those emotions change as the people wearing them moved their bodies. It was also amazing how much the slightest body movement could make the emotions play over the mask. Going from happiness to sadness could take just a twitch of the shoulders.

This is really hard to describe, but I found it fascinating. It made me aware of how much body language plays into our understanding of what is being presented to us. It also made me aware of how much we rely on the face, and that even when the information we are looking for is not there, our minds will fill it in for us.

After the masks, is when we put on our clown gear. We were asked to practice the walk that we had developed in the earlier classes, but now in our clown costume. Again, walking around the room with my funny walk, watching the other funny walkers, I could hear that Fame theme song starting to play in my head.

After a bit of that we were given our nose. Yes indeed, the red clown nose. We got a lecture on how to treat it with respect. How when we put it on we are the clown and not our everyday self, so we shouldn't be chatting about everyday things and doing ordinary stuff with our nose on. Or our clown clothes for that matter.

George then set up the "ring" by making a circle of chairs. He then put a black wall divider up at the head of the circle. We would stand behind this to get ready. We all sat around in the chairs that made up the ring. Our assignment was this: 1) walk into the ring, 2) discover the audience,3) make the audience laugh. Sounds pretty simple, right? What followed was 40 minutes of soul-mangling clown hell.

I went first because I wanted to get it over with. This was probably a good thing, because the roasting got worse I think as the time went on. I put on my nose, heart beating, rapidly inhaling the plastic smell, which reminded me a bit of the dentist. Not a good sign. I stepped out into the ring, head looking down so I could then look up and "discover" the audience.

That was my plan anyway, which was interrupted by George's voice. "Clown, you didn't discover the audience." Apparently my plan for discovery wasn't holding up under George's scrutiny. I looked up stunned, plans thwarted, and then said, "Ummm, I was just about to get to that." The George Lewis Look of Disdain followed. "Clown, go back and discover the audience."

"Ummm...OK."

I started again, and whatever I did this time it must have been OK, because he didn't stop me. Then I stepped into the ring realizing I had no idea how to make these people laugh. So I just started leaping around, waving my arms, staring at people for help. But no help came, they all just stared at me, and no one was laughing. More leaping, more pleading with the eyes. Nothing. Cruel heartless bastards. Laugh! Damn you!

"Clown, is this funny?"

Obviously not.

He had me do something with straightening my costume or something, which got a half-hearted chuckle out of a person or two. I really don't remember; it is all a blur. Just a foggy haze of failure until the relief/shame of my dismissal with the patented George Lewis Look of Disdain and followed by "Thank you, Clown."(tm). I left the ring, took off my nose, and returned to my seat.

I was just the first. No one got through without serious beating. As much as I wanted people to laugh when I was up, I could see how not funny it was to be dancing around waving arms etc. Oddly enough it was in the moments where the Clown realized the failure that there was a chance to laugh.

We did do some laughing. There was some genuinely funny moments amid the carnage. I think George's lesson of the day was to start learning what makes, or doesn't make, something funny. Failure is apparently one of these things.

Oct 10 - Just Hangin'...

Earlier I was writing about acting student archetypes that I have been mapping as I journey through acting school. I talked about the Diva-in-training, which was pretty easy. I think we have all run into these before. Some of the other types I mentioned were the Cliff-hanger, the Processor, and the Meticulous. Today I want to talk about the Cliff-hanger.

This is the person who wants to be an actor, but is too afraid, but they don't know they are too afraid (or maybe they do, I'm not a mind reader). I call them cliff-hangers because the get to the edge of the cliff, look down, and stay there. They don't take the plunge. Another analogy might be the swimming pool. Imagine a kid who wants to go swimming, gets their swimsuit on, walks purposefully out to the pool, slowly tests the water with one big toe, only to stand on the edge and watch the other kids swim.

I have two examples. Let's call them Marcus and Cleopatra. Marcus was my first encounter. He was a young guy about 19, who was going to a local community college while he still lived at home. He decided to take acting because he thought it would be a good way to make money. We all sort of lifted our eyebrows when he said that, but really, it is true that it would be a good way to make money. It is just not necessarily true that it is a good way to make good money.

Anyway, he paid over $600 to take this class, had to commute a fair distance to reach the school, and he took this load on while he was already in college. Hearing that, you might think that he was highly motivated, but... no. When it came time to participate in class it was interesting (and occasionally painful) to watch.

I can't really say he froze up, because he moved and talked, but there was no energy behind it. Imagine automaton Abraham Lincoln at Disneyland. It wasn't just bad acting, because you can tell when a bad actor is giving a good (bad?) effort. And when he was encouraged to do more, he resisted, mostly by offering lame excuses and foot dragging. In his defense I will say that he did improve over the course of the class. I just like to imagine what he would have accomplished if he had thrown himself down.

Cleo was different in manifestation, so at first I didn't recognize her Cliff-hangeriness, I thought she was more of the Meticulous type. It was only after repeated events that the pattern developed enough to make this determination. She would come to class, and would sit quietly, listening intently, eager it seemed to me to learn.

It was a Shakespeare class so the material was difficult and specific. She would ask questions. Very thoughtful and specific questions. When it came time to do an exercise she would ask for specific clarification on what was expected. In the Shakespeare class we had to memorize a sonnet, a soliloquy/monologue, and a two person scene. We also had to write a sonnet. Yet almost every time when it came to the performance part, she would sit quietly and not participate.

She did participate in some things, and again showed purpose, unlike Marcus whose claw marks on the walls were readily visible as he was dragged to perform. Cleo did read her sonnet, but didn't do it off book ( the "final" of the assignment), even though she professed to have stayed up all night for many nights memorizing it, which I believe she did. Same with her monologue. And when it came time to her two person scene, she ended up disappearing the last few classes so her partner had to find someone else at the last minute.

She probably had performance anxiety. But don't we all? I guess the thing for me it was the contrast between her show of intention, and then the lack of follow through. I think I am sensitive to this because I encounter it annoyingly often in my personal life. I know a lot of people who say I want this, I want to do that, I want to be better, I want change, and then sit there. What was that line from the Cider House Rules? Oh yeah, "Shit, or get off the pot."

Oct 9 - Bee happy.

I purchased my clown costume last night, or I should say the beginnings of my clown costume. It definitely feels like a work in progress. I walked into Value Village and was immediately drawn to the costume rack they had out for Halloween. And what had caught my eye was a bee costume for a small child.

It was a thick, padded, tank-top like affair which sort of reminded me of a catcher's chest protector, with wide yellow and black stripes. The back had a longer shirt tail that hung down, and also a pair of floppy things that I believe are supposed to be wings. I thought, "Oh this is cool!" and then I thought I am not going to fit into it, because it is for a six year old. I reluctantly put it back on the rack and headed off to look for shoes.

I found some shoes that I thought would do. A pair of orange sneakers with a green (or is it purple) ribbon to tie them on. I found a couple of other things, that I thought might work, but nothing had grabbed me like the bee costume. I couldn't get it out of my mind. I went back to the bee costume, and threw it in my stack. Doesn't hurt to try it on.

I go off to the dressing room to try on my haul. First the bee costume. I go to slip it over my head and I realize there is a strap that bisects the bottom that goes between the legs. So I can't slip it over my head. I strip out of my jeans, because the odds of me getting this over my hips is slim (ha ha) as it is. I manage, after much shimmy-shimmy, to get the bee costume up to mid-torso when the strap jams into my crotch, and it will go up no more.

I figure I got it to go over the widest part of my body, so if I cut the strap then I should be able to get it up all the way. As it is now, it reaches just below my breasts, like a cupless bustierre. Bad, naughty clown. Not what I was going for. I try on a coat and a few pairs of pants I thought might go. The coat doesn't work, because it masks the glory of the bee-ness. I try on a pair of baggy blue pants. I am not totally impressed, but I put them in the keep pile as a backup. I try on a pair of black capris that work, but now I am look more like I am trying to be a bee, which I am not. Ah, to bee or not....

I am not really trying to be a bee, but for some reason this outfit is calling me. My walk is sort of panicky and back and forth, so maybe I can imagine that is like a bee going from one place to another. I don't know. Luckily we are allowed to change our minds. I will see what kind of feedback I get from class, and see what other people bring.

With basic top, pants and shoes chosen, I set out to find accessories. I find a purse that looks interesting, sort of reminds me of a old-fashioned doctor's bag, but with ugly gold buckles on it. I also find a lime green scarf that says "girl-power" and then later a dog-shaped backpack, complete with dog head whose mouth moves and sings. I don't know what I am going to use if for, but it was only 3 dollars.

What I found interesting about this whole process is how I went about choosing things. I didn't have any vision for my vaguely defined "character". I just went in and pulled things that grabbed my eye. Sort of a clothing Rorschach test. I don't if this is more me, or more my character. I suppose at this point there isn't much difference.

Oct 8 - Walk this way.

This past weekend I had my second class in both Stage Combat and Personal Clown. They were both fun. A brief summary of the weekend's classes below:

In Stage Combat we reviewed the three basic back falls we had done the time before, plus added a forward fall. We also learned some more fake punches, so now we have the cross, the jab, the roundhouse, and the uppercut. I can do the punches pretty good, but what I have to work on is my responding to the punches.

We also reviewed the sword work we had done the week before, and we got to pair up with a partner, and actually hit swords against each other. Very fun, although I have to say one of my partners worried me a little. He had missed the first class, so he was doing this for the first time, and he was very enthusiastic. Having a highly energized person, who has had no practice time, waving a sword at you (even if it is blunted) can make one nervous.

For Personal Clown we did some of the same exercises we had done the time before. George would yell out a word, such as tomato, light, barbed-wire, butter, furry, and then we would act out the movement and sometimes sound of the work. We were also asked to act out nonsensical word. Be frommy, or blix, and you would just give your best guess as to what that would be.

Another exercise that I "like", even though it makes you feel very awkward, is this walking exercise. What you do is walk around the room, just your normal walk, while everyone watches you. Their job is to watch your walk for charactersitics. It is rather uncomfortable having 12 other people watch you very intently as you walk.

But then it gets better. They start to imitate your walk. First resembling how you actually walk, but then exaggerating the tendencies that they see. Maybe your head tilts to the left a bit, so everyone tilts their head way over, or you have one shoulder raised higher, so everyone walks around with one shoulder hiked way up, or your right leg swings out further, so everyone swings the leg way out, etc. Whatever it is, they latch onto it and exaggerate it. Then it is your job to take on the exaggerations that you feel resonance with.

The others stop walking and then you exaggerate the walk even more, until your arms and legs are swinging wildly. So there you are with a dozen people watching you, while you are lurching to and fro, arms swinging, legs kicking, torso contorted. My favorite part is when the others who have gone before join in, and you have a hand full of people undulating around together. It makes me think what the TV show Fame would be like if it took place inside an insane asylum.

In addition to the patterns of contortion, an emotional component develops and begins to create a character. My walk morphed in to a panicky or frantic feel. Some people's walk made them sassy, or sad, or innocent.

Our assignment, due this Wed, is to now go out and buy some clothes that the character who has this walk would wear. I am not sure what that is, but tonight is a trip to Value Village to see what I can find.

Oct 5 - Introducing the Characters...

I don't have a lot of experience with actors. I have only done one play and that was with fellow students. Most of the people in my classes are either beginners like myself, or are people who are picking acting back up after a long break from their college days. I think I have only had one or two professional actors in class. That's not including my teachers of course, who are all professional actors and really good teachers as well.

So really, my experience is with student actors. I have had enough classes now to start seeing the first forms of acting student archetypes coalescing from the murk. There is the diva-in-training, the meticulous, the cliff-hanger, and the processor. I am sure that there are more than that, and I might change my ideas about some of these as time goes on, and I get more exposure, but for right now this will do.

I think that these types are probably in any type of class, but in a more standard academic environment I don't think the individual charactersitics of the various types are given full opportunity to be expressed.

Lets start with the divas-in-training

I have only had two of these so far in my classes, and coincidently in the same class. I noticed that both of these individuals had (what seemed to me anyway) a rather strong fantasy about acting. They wanted to be Actors. Famous Actors. Their eyes were firmly fixed way on down that yellow brick road to the gleaming emerald spires.

Let's call them Eunice and Prudence to protect their identities.

Eunice had a plan. She was going to do A, B, C, etc. and then she would Make It. Listening to Eunice talk was like listening to a corporate meeting, where the hostile takeover of a rival company was being planned. Acting/theater/film was referred to as "this industry." I could see the PowerPoint presentation floating above her head. "As you can see from the first bullet point..."

I didn't hear any talk of art, passion, creativity, or fun for that matter. Not that art, passion, creativity, or fun need to be discussed directly, because I don't spend a lot of time going on about them myself, but I didn't get any sense of them bubbling under the surface. I suspect they are in there somewhere, but they have been buried under the gears and motors of the Acting Dream Machine (tm).

The staging of our particular play Fefu and Her Friends, by Maria Irene Fornes, was unusual in that it requires some scenes to be performed on four different stages simultaneously, while the audience moves from one stage to another. Each scene ends up being performed four times consecutively.

We actually only had two performance spaces to use, so each space would have two scenes performing in it, repeated twice. Eunice's scene was to be in the smaller performance space instead of the main stage. This would not do. She harassed the instructor/director, who repeatedly said no, this is the what the playwright intended. Then Eunice went to the head of the school, and persuaded them (i.e. badgered them until they said fuck it) to let her scene be on the main stage. We ended up doing the whole play in the main stage. I think it all turned out fine in the end, but I could see the where the little diva-sprout, breaking up through the soil, was heading.

Prudence was different, she didn't charge ahead with economic fervor. She floated in, hair immaculately in place, clothes fashionably fashionable. At first she seemed reserved yet participatory, and made some good comments in discussions. She had actually arrived on the scene after a handful of classes had already passed, and seemed on her way to catching up with the rest of us.

We were excited she was there as we were one person short, and were about ready to cast our roles. She ended up getting one of the smaller parts (and a lesbian one at that, which I heard freaked her out though she tried to play it cool). Then she started showing up late, or not at all. Always with a valid excuse mind you. Father in the hospital, baby sick. But when she was there, she spent a fair amount of time texting on her phone, or radiating that she rather be somewhere else. In the end she pulled it together, learned her lines, and performed, but again I didn't see any fun or enjoyment in it.

This being my first time doing a play, it became obvious to me that it is a team sport. Not that we can't have our personal moment of glory, and every team has its star player, but we are all on the same team, trying for the same goal. It then also becomes obvious when someone is not being a team player. There is no "I" in team as they say.

I think it is OK to be driven to succeed, or "make it", to become famous , or whatever you want to call it. Don't get me wrong; I have my acting fantasy life too. I want to be a regular character on a sci-fi television show. There I've said it.

Will this happen? I have no idea. Right now I am not a very good actor (or even a good actor), and I am also not incredibly good looking. I think you need to have at least one of those things to rise up the ladder . But on my way to becoming a very good actor (can't do much about the looks) , I am going to try and have as much fun as possible, and hopefully be a person where people say, "She's fun to work with."

Next time, the cliff-hanger...

Oct 4 - You want me to do what?

Well, I survived my first Clown class. Just saying Clown class is sort of funny. Not funny ha ha, but funny odd. I tell people I am taking Clown this quarter and I get an odd look. Then I am forced to say that I really can't explain what it is, because I haven't actually taken it yet, and I really don't have any idea about clowns outside of the stereotype, let alone a class to learn to be a clown. Honestly, I have never really cared about clowns one way or the other.

It actually felt much like the movement class I had taken previous. A lot of run around, stop, jump, stop, act out the motion and sounds of marshmallows, stop, peanut butter, stop, jump, run, and sandpaper. We didn't much get to the clown part. That comes later. We are working in a progression, so we are learning the tools of the framework, and to mix metaphors, we get to color in between the lines later. I do know that I will at some point be wearing a red nose.

The funny thing about acting classes is that you are asked to do weird things, and you will do them. If someone came up on the street and asked you to do some of the things we are asked to do in class, you would look at them like they were a freak and then probably engage in one of the following responses: 1) Tell them off, 2) Call the cops, 3) Run away, 4) All of the previous.

Aside from the attempts to embody the above mentioned food and furniture finishing items, I have been asked to do all sorts of things. One class, on our first day, I was asked to stand nose to nose exchanging air for about 3 minutes with another person in class, who I had just met. Now if you went to a job on your first day, and the boss said, "I want you to stand nose to nose with your co-worker and breathe each other's air for a few minutes. It is a traditional greeting in some (non-specified) culture." You would think, "What the hell kind of place is this?" Flip off your boss and walk out. Or I suppose if you were desperate for work, you might do it, but then spend your lunch hour browsing the classifieds for new jobs.

But in acting class, there generally is just a small narrowing of the eyes as the brain tries to process the request it just has received, followed by a few furtive glances around the room to see what the others think. Seeing no one else running for the door, the psyche throws up its hands and gives a long multi-octave sigh. Surrender in under 5 seconds.

Make the sound of peanut butter? Sure, no problem. Move like sandpaper? OK. An outside observer would be looking around for the men in the white coats. People undulating around the room making random noises. Chittering, arms undulating, hooting, crawling around, flittering and more. By the way, as I discovered last night, there is no universal interpretation for the sound of peanut butter. Just so you know.