Falling in love with...

It is with a heavy heart that I write this blog. Having spent a month, constantly with the same people, and having forgotten somehow during that time about the world existing beyond the sight of the massive mountains, where the sun disappears every night, and with it the notion of reality… All that makes being thrown back in reality a rather difficult transition to go through. And it does not get better the second time. It was hard to leave this place as an apprentice two years ago, it is heartbreaking to leave it a second time, now.

I fell in love. I fell in love with 17 people, with a place, with a house, with a dog.  That is what this month is -was for me- a month for falling in love again. Ultimately that translate into the work we are doing. We fall in love with the people we do it with, with the words we are breathing life into, with the people on stage and in the audience we are saying those words to.

Anne Bogart, in her book “A Director prepares”, wrote a chapter about “eroticism” as a necessary force in theatre, and breaks it down into seven steps:

1 something, someone stops you in your track

2 you feel “drawn” to it

3 you sense its energy and power

4 it disorientates you

5 you make first contact, it responds

6 you experience extended intercourse

7 you are changed irrevocably

She then writes on about how to fall in love with someone or a process, you have to let go of your daily habit, and in order to be touched by something, you have to let yourself be disoriented.

Nothing is as disorienting as a month spent in Papingo, in every possible way. I realized during the apprentices final individual presentation how much they were deeply touched, changed by this experience. Whether it was in Ariella’s willingness to let go and gently reveal the humor hidden in everyday life by creating a musical/parody of life in Papingo, or in the truth in a sincere and poignant look from Rachel on the guitar thanking everyone for the experience with her words, but mostly eyes; the beauty in a Logan's journey, alone, naked in the frozen river, while everyone is silently and religiously taking in the otherworldly beauty and strangeness of the scene, a Bailie’s, Nadja’s, Mary’s heartbreakingly open, honest, giving and gorgeous written monologue spoken by someone else, while they are embodying their words for us, Meropi’s broken haunting gaze and dialogue with herself, Beth’s sharing of her vision, from the writing to the directing… And we are all, in turn touched and moved by these gifts. There is so much spaciousness and awe inspiring landscape around us at all time, that it is easy to draw back in oneself, become painfully self centered. I was moved and impressed everyday by how each and everyone who was present found a spaciousness and grace within themselves, in order to constantly give to the people around. That energy of giving, necessary for living together for such a long amount of time, and certainly very difficult to find at times, makes the work invaluable and elevate it to new levels. The gift of allowing students to experience this apprenticeship then turns into a gift to the audience, OYL and the people from the villages, who after the show warmly thank the actors for bringing to them the joy of theater.

It would be easier to leave if we didn’t give ourselves fully to the experience, but we wouldn’t allow for the change within us to happen, the hearts and souls to be filled with new and old faces, images, memories, inspiration… It is worth having a heavy heart now.

-Tatiana Collet-Apraxine

Take it all in, enjoy it, use it, have fun with it

Well, I guess it’s over! And this blog-post is long overdue… It’s been a crazy couple of weeks of running around and rehearsing and walking and talking and FEELINGS and work and exhaustion and excitement and fits of hysterical laughter and well, I guess it’s over now! And the reason this is overdue is that I’ve spent the past couple of weeks thinking about not knowing what I want to say or how I want to say it, but now it’s over and I can finally sit down and collect all my thoughts and reach some deep, profound, existential conclusion about the time I spent in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere-Greece, doing theater. When we started this program, Nicole told me that by the end of it I would know what kind of artist I would want to be. So, moment of truth, drumroll please…

     Oh, who am I kidding, I’m still a long way from figuring that out. What I have realized however, is that I really want to enjoy my art, whatever that may be. I want to be able to play with it and have fun with it. I want to be allowed to not take myself too seriously. Actually, I want to allow myself not to take myself too seriously. I feel like that’s one of the biggest problems with actors; they take themselves too seriously, getting so wrapped up in doing “art” and becoming acteurs and all those things that everyone laughs at but almost everyone ends up doing. What I’ve realized from being here and performing in the spaces where we performed is that you can’t do that. Not when little kids run around on their bicycles centerstage, not when dogs fight, cellphones go off, old ladies whisper “What did she say?” and teenagers comment on things that have very little to do with your artistic value and performance power, all during your heart breaking final scene. All these things bring out the inherent absurdity that exists in theater. They make you realize that no matter how seriously you want to take it, it is always going to be a play of pretend, put up in front of living, breathing, re-acting  beings who might laugh at your supposedly dramatic animal transformations (cuz let’s face it, you are pretending to be a chicken), or complain because your screams of insufferable grief are a little bit too loud. The point of it all is that you can’t block that out. You can’t get mad at the audience for being inconsiderate to your “art” and you can’t beat yourself up for laughing when a little kid offers you chips while you lay on the floor possessed by Dionysus. You need to take all that in, enjoy it, use it and have fun with it. Just have fun with it! So, that’s it! That’s my big revealation about theater and art and life. That is the little pearl of wisdom I leave behind.

      Also, I had an amazing time! Like, really, an amazing time! I’ll miss you all but, at least, we will always have Papingo!

-Meropi Papastergiou, 2012 Apprentice Company member

Exhilirating, Immersive & Illuminating

For the Tuesday August 14, 2012 blog, apprentice Ariella Segal asked the One Year Lease Company, board members and apprentices a series of questions. The following is a taste of their eclectic responses:

Describe the work you have been doing here in one word.

Rollercoaster

“Nai” (Greek for "yes")

Revealing

Immersive

Fantasmagoricorgasmicphoric

Gripping

Hot(t)

Exhilarating

Raw

Illuminating

Refreshing

Multifaceted

Creating

Cathartic

What is your spirit animal?

A Horse-dolphin… a horphin!

 Elephant Mermaid

Lion

Sea lion- deer

Unicorn fighting-pigeon

The “yamas” lady at Calliope

Cat

Fox

Bunny

Honey Badger Swordfish Sparrow

Dragon

Orca whale- Eagle

Horse-Monkey

Mountain Goat X2

If you could wear one costume for the rest of your life what would it be?

40s Era retro fur

Cleopatra

A pear. Wait… a sombrero. I would be a pear wearing a sombrero.

Depression Era Sunday’s best. Tie bar on collar included.

My favorite dress up outfit I wore as a little girl. It was an aqua party dress.

Victorian era night gown

A flattering but horrid bridesmaid dress

Toga dress

Jeans, a vest and a really hot bra

1800s dress

Naked

Really nice 1920s suit

Gorilla suit

What I’m wearing right now so I don’t have to change.

A dress made out of sunbeams

A stunning and elegant evening gown

A Stone Mason for our Souls

It can be a comforting as well as disorienting thing, being here. 

            As a five-time OYL residence enthusiast and company member, the experience the company and the students have not only encompasses the work we do here in this beautiful, immersive place but also how best to navigate our art in and out of ‘the real world.’

            This summer, the first week was a gentle nudge into Greece, with a focus on the country and its incredible legacy of art as they explored Athens. As I leave now and they approach their final week in Papingo, the students and the remaining company members will practice the art of leaving.

            It’s a very hard place to leave, not only because of the intense and rigorous schedule the artists adhere to in order to squeeze every opportunity out of one another and themselves but also because, as I’ve already learned navigating the Athens airport, Papingo is a very small, welcoming village unlike anywhere else. We get to know each and every resident in various ways and they get to know us when we rehearse ancient Greek stories fearlessly in their public squares. We get to know the mountains as we hike their faces, sprinkled with sun and a healthy dose of awe. I’d like to think the mountains get to know us, too, as they nod down to us on the commutes between villages, reminding us how small we are.

            We learn that constructing art, like building a village, requires small, challenging steps each day that, one day, may build a mountain hut at the top of a peak or construct a current piece of theater tackling the ancient play, ‘The Bacchae.’ One could say we learn that art, when you let it breathe in the oncoming thunderstorm during lunch or relish in the extraordinary assets of a tomato, is an elemental part of life here, like anywhere else. When we get all the stuff of ‘real life’ out of the way, it can be breathtakingly simple (not easy) to make art and, at the same time, intimidating. Those mountains are massive, but some days they seem imposing and other days, like old friends.

            As I fly over the Atlantic now, I’m excited for each and every artist in residence this year to learn how to infuse their ‘real lives’ with these mountains, or their art with the same diligent commitment the old goat herder practices over her curious goats. Every time I leave, I try to remember that the art of leaving this place is the art of seeing our work, amidst the hustle and bustle of daily life or school or family, as a calculating stone-mason for our souls, and that whether it be savoring a garden fresh cucumber with sea salt or struggling through a hard day’s work creating art with one another, we must take the time to do that.

            It’s quiet and comforting on the plane now as I think of the final, beautiful week the company has left to share with one another. It may be disorienting trying to fit these four weeks into life back home, but the art of leaving is an independent journey, as art is. 

            We take each step with us. 

-Christina Lind, OYL Acting Company

The Director and the Collaborative Process

For the last two weeks, we have been working on creating our own Bacchae. The process involved significant cuts in the script and a lot of composition work on the part of the company. Gradually, we’ve been stripping the text down to its bare essentials; we’ve been trying to say as much as we can through movement.

In a play with a very intense and violent physical world as The Bacchae, words are more akin to incantations then signifiers of meaning. Being an assistant director in this collaborative devising process has been challenging and exciting. I have had to transform back and forth between a director and actor as often as the chorus members in our show transform into different characters. 

Building work with the other apprentices from the inside and then shaping from the outside has helped me explore a new way of working. It is refreshing to rely on the whole company as opposed to just one person to come up with ideas. This process to me seems like the Socratic method of theater: in it, the leader does not hold all the answers, but aids the company in its shared physical and intellectual exploration. Our coryphaeus, Kim, leaves us to play with the material during the morning rehearsal, and comes in and gives whatever we came up with structure and dynamism in the afternoon. The level of investment such an approach inspires in everyone is stunning.

-Elizabeth Dinkova, Apprentice Company member

Bodies as Landscapes, Text as Music

A horizontal line of actors stand against a stone wall. Suddenly, one turns, runs forward and halts, dropping into a low squat. Another slowly, almost imperceptibly steps forward, her hand moving across her chest and down her arm. The lanes come to life, with each actor playing with tempo and gesture.

Two actors, script in hand, break out of the vertical lanes and interact using lines from Her Mother and Bartok. Though they are the only two speaking, the other bodies continue to move through space.

This is their landscape. This is their set. The speaking actors move with and against the horizontal lanes the other actors strictly follow.

This week, Ianthe has been leading both companies in workshops that explore how OYL approaches a text. Condensed into four hours.
(We move fast.)

As I watched, I was reminded of the choral work the apprentice company has been doing to shape and stage The Bacchae for their upcoming performances in local villages.

All week, I’ve been thinking about choruses.
The role they serve in classic Greek drama.
The theatrical opportunities presented by having these ever-present, all-seeing bodies onstage.
They see everything.
They have a lot to say about what’s happening onstage.
 They tread the line between story characters and audience, seeing both sides of the fourth wall.
 They can create the images that a character describes with text, or they can embody/physicalize emotional expression of a scene or moment.

In Ianthe’s morning session, I saw another possibility for the chorus. The chorus not only creates the world and comments on the action but IS the world and engages the action. These bodies are the set. The bustling bodies of a city street. They effect the course of action (Babis windmilling Christina around as she follows Logan) and affect the characters (Mary trying desperately to get Babis’s attention, as he lays on top of Rachel). These bustling bodies onstage, performing repetitive gestures, start to respond to the text. What Ianthe calls using “the text as music”, responding to the text as a musical score.

Anyway, we've been playing with ideas. And by getting on our feet, trying new things, we're discovering new details about the text and possibilities for staging. Not to mention inspiring each other in the process.

-Nicole Wood, Associate Artist OYL / 2012 Apprentice Program Coordinator

Processes based in doing - Logan

Our work began with a viewpoint based exercise as we continued to dig deeper into the text of Her Mother and Bartok. Using gestures developed from previous workshops we played with different rules and ways of exploring the world of the play. From the exercises, we discovered the multiplicity and layered qualities of the play's two characters and began to think about how the play might be staged with additional actors and dancers.

During our Bacchae rehearsal sessions, we pushed forward with defining a rough shape for the play. Through the process we found ourselves referring back to the viewpoints work we had been exploring during our workshop sessions. We found that a process based in 'doing' was more effective (and more fun) than a process based in intellectual discussion. I look forward to continuing to develop this highly physical approach as out work with The Bacchae continues.

-Logan Woodruff, Apprentice Company Member