"Things get out of hand." This sums up pretty nicely for me what I'm imagining as a central action of our play. Much of the action of the basic story reminds me of children at play (and I refer to every character here, except possibly the prince) who get a little out of control with their fussing and fighting. Before you know it, someone's heart's broken, someone's eye's poked out, and everyone's pointing fingers in order to avoid more hurt. This meshes well with clown theory as I understand it, because clowns are very much like babies, or alien visitors, experiencing everything for the first time. They still have to learn concepts like "hot," much less "love." As it stands, our version will have only Romeo and Juliet as clowns, and the rest of the world populated by masked commedia dell'arte characters. This stands to drive the action right along, as commedia characters are largely appetite-driven and selfish. It's exciting to think of our first -- in five+ years of making dell'arte-inspired theatre, mind you -- masked show in general. I hope we can help our audiences see the masks as they were intended; more caricature than disguise, more revealing than deceitful.
Regardless of style choices, it will I hope retain the sense of contemporary fun that has been in every Zuppa show through the years. In our workshops, as we explored the seeming despair over Rosaline that Romeo exhibits on his introduction, we thought of having him accidentally pulling out moves borrowed from Hamlet, dressed in black, contemplating a skull wearing a red nose. I'd love to have movie posters up for other Shakespeare plays, borrowing from Silent Lives the notion of characters who learn their behavior from popular culture. The humor should come from the moment and character, not necessarily the indications of a joke in the script. Heather and I are already discussing the possible humor of feigned (or frustrated) exits, a running joke about people trying to leave stage and continually being called back. The balcony scene is a great one for this and comes to mind immediately, but also on the way to the party Romeo keeps trying to leave. The topper is the "morning after" scene, probably. Great place for a fart joke there, too, I can't help but notice. (Hopefully someone will shoot me down on this; "that may be a great idea for
next year's show...") "It is the lark that sings so out of tune..."
Showing posts with label masks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label masks. Show all posts
20 October 2008
Some Public Brainstorming
I just finished up writing a bit about our upcoming show over on my personal 'blog, Odin's Aviary. You can read the whole entry here. But in pertinent part, and purely in the interest of putting down some ideas and impressions:
26 March 2008
Follow your nose
Jeff -- I wrote this before your mask post, but lost internet connection and couldn't post. So, don't read it as a reply or critique, so much as a parallel thought.
I was watching "Blues Clues" and the characters were playing at being pigs. Instead of dressing up as pigs, they had very simple pig noses tied on with string. I thought--- hmm--- all of our characters could have noses tied on with string, whether they are red noses or commedia-style noses. In other words, the commedia characters would not have the full mask, only noses. It would give a more consistent look-- like one world, rather than merging two.
I believe (and this is just my opinion) that noses should be assigned based on whether the character is innocent and "with the tao" (i.e. a red nose) or trapped by desire (or other worldly trap), and "away from the tao" (i.e. a commedia-style nose).
If it is not clear from the text whether the character is innocent or not (I do not believe age is really a gauge, unless you are talking about under 2-- even 2 as a cuttoff point is debatable) then, I think that we could play to find out if a red nose "is sustainable" or not. BTW, here are two things that I learned in clown school (maybe other clown-school students learned different) : clowns cannot be archetypes and not all people (characters) have a clown.
[Digressive story: On the first day of class we all got up, one by one, to present ourselves to the master. He asked us each to do a few things and then told us to go away. One guy got up and the master looked at him and told him he had no clown -- that perhaps he had some other place in the theater, maybe some kind of romantic or action hero, he didn't know. He didn't throw the guy out (that was a different guy and a different story) but he basically said that, for him, clown school was a waste of time.]
That being said, what would it mean for Father Laurence to have no nose? That he is outside the world (e.g. the devil)? That he is spiritually deformed or maimed? Please discuss.
If we went with Dave's meta-route, I perhaps everyone starts in red-nose to tell the story and put commedia-style noses on top of the red nose to become characters. Maybe some of the clowns get trapped in their commedia-style nose? Like when we try-on things in our lives that, without our intending to, change us forever.
I was watching "Blues Clues" and the characters were playing at being pigs. Instead of dressing up as pigs, they had very simple pig noses tied on with string. I thought--- hmm--- all of our characters could have noses tied on with string, whether they are red noses or commedia-style noses. In other words, the commedia characters would not have the full mask, only noses. It would give a more consistent look-- like one world, rather than merging two.
I believe (and this is just my opinion) that noses should be assigned based on whether the character is innocent and "with the tao" (i.e. a red nose) or trapped by desire (or other worldly trap), and "away from the tao" (i.e. a commedia-style nose).
If it is not clear from the text whether the character is innocent or not (I do not believe age is really a gauge, unless you are talking about under 2-- even 2 as a cuttoff point is debatable) then, I think that we could play to find out if a red nose "is sustainable" or not. BTW, here are two things that I learned in clown school (maybe other clown-school students learned different) : clowns cannot be archetypes and not all people (characters) have a clown.
[Digressive story: On the first day of class we all got up, one by one, to present ourselves to the master. He asked us each to do a few things and then told us to go away. One guy got up and the master looked at him and told him he had no clown -- that perhaps he had some other place in the theater, maybe some kind of romantic or action hero, he didn't know. He didn't throw the guy out (that was a different guy and a different story) but he basically said that, for him, clown school was a waste of time.]
That being said, what would it mean for Father Laurence to have no nose? That he is outside the world (e.g. the devil)? That he is spiritually deformed or maimed? Please discuss.
If we went with Dave's meta-route, I perhaps everyone starts in red-nose to tell the story and put commedia-style noses on top of the red nose to become characters. Maybe some of the clowns get trapped in their commedia-style nose? Like when we try-on things in our lives that, without our intending to, change us forever.
Mascera
That's Italian. (Er: I hope.) I don't mean black gunk you put on your eyelashes; I mean masks.
We keep talking about "mask characters" for R&J, but I'm not entirely clear on whether or not we're actually diving into mask performance for this show or not. I would guess that we are, given how much we've been talking about masks lately, having an actually Italian actor working with us and the fact that a clown nose is itself a kind of mask. ("The mask that reveals," as Grey once quoted to us.) We may even get a nice dry run on mask performance from working on The Husband in August. That's another one for which I'm uncertain about whether or not we're using masks, but we keep talking about it being a traditional commedia dell'arte show, so . . .
If we are contemplating performing in mask, I think we should consider it very carefully. I'm specifically grateful, in fact, that we have a dry-run opportunity. We should learn a lot from it about how typical American audiences deal with it. We have certain cultural indicators that have told us that masked folks are not all bad -- The Lone Ranger, superheroes, etc. -- but by-and-large we're unaccustomed to them and find them threatening. It's similar to a subject I've been contemplating a bit lately: Clown fear. We fear the grotesque and unknown. God knows why. I've heard a million different explanations, and it's really all pretty moot to contemplate it here. It's just a fact.
I believe it's a fact we can overcome. Particularly watching Andrea's workshop last weekend, and the way everyone there loved performing in mask. It puts you into your body, and releases impulses (which may be part of why the Puritan in us runs screaming from them). It must be possible to transition from the current response of "Oh shit! A mask! Run!" to "Oh neat! A mask! I wonder what s/he'll do...?" This, at any rate, is how I imagine the response was in the time of commedia dell'arte. I suppose it was something similar to walking around the corner and finding someone doing really impressive breakdancing. Everybody loves to watch breakdancing.
What may be too much is to ask the average American to appreciate grotesque appearance. I've done some informal surveys, and though we as performers find them beautiful, a large quantity of folks these days have trouble appreciating traditional commedia masks. That blows, and I'd like to break them of it, but maybe we're forging enough new trails here as it is. Particularly when we're actively involving the audience in the way commedia and clown do. Zuppa has to confront that every show, sans mask, that initial defensiveness to having their fourth wall invaded. Add grotesque masks to the mix, particularly if they're dark leather or, say, riddled with warts, and I do believe you're asking a lot. "Holy shit! A seriously old man! Run!"
I could be (and often am) wrong. See above gratitude for having a potential dry run. Perhaps there's a finesse we can learn to working in mask similar to the sense we have of which audience members to involve in Zuppa antics in general. "Watch out for the four-year-old in the first row; she's a crier." "Thanks. Make sure you get the dude with the mustache at the end of six. He's my Dad, and into it."
But I also have an idea. (What? You, Jeff? It's true, and I will inflict it upon you. Wah-TA:) Just as we've approached commedia dell'arte as a "living tradition" all these years, perhaps the masks can be designed to be in the spirit of the originals, but responsive to our own century. My image of this -- though I also imagine the directions for this idea are limitless -- is of masks that take their features from the traditional masks, but filter them through some of the art and culture we're more accustomed to. Specifically, I wonder about more primary coloring and incorporating shapes at once more exaggerated and more basically geometric. (Anybody here seen Mirrormask? Totally stealing from it, I think.) The masks in my mind borrow a lot from cubism and technology (not technological function, but design). Bluetooth earpieces mask ears. Sunglasses mask eyes. Etc. Etc. The effect shouldn't be overt, but influenced by what we're accustomed to.
Take Arlecchino, for example.
If you use the traditional mask as a jumping-off point, there's already some basic geometry that jumps out at us. Circles for cheeks. Round eyes. Asymmetrical wart on the forehead. Arcing brows and pug nose. Maybe the contemporary mask borrows the colors of his traditionally patched costume, and is literally two circles on the cheeks, with arcing pieces rising out from them. Maybe the wart becomes a ball on a spring, or something more muted, like a barrette. This kind of image for me allows me to relax from the idea that someone is deceiving me, or mocking my appearance, and tells me immediately that their character is a scamp. It even rouses my curiosity. It's way more accessible for me than Picasso, at any rate.
Thoughts?
We keep talking about "mask characters" for R&J, but I'm not entirely clear on whether or not we're actually diving into mask performance for this show or not. I would guess that we are, given how much we've been talking about masks lately, having an actually Italian actor working with us and the fact that a clown nose is itself a kind of mask. ("The mask that reveals," as Grey once quoted to us.) We may even get a nice dry run on mask performance from working on The Husband in August. That's another one for which I'm uncertain about whether or not we're using masks, but we keep talking about it being a traditional commedia dell'arte show, so . . .
If we are contemplating performing in mask, I think we should consider it very carefully. I'm specifically grateful, in fact, that we have a dry-run opportunity. We should learn a lot from it about how typical American audiences deal with it. We have certain cultural indicators that have told us that masked folks are not all bad -- The Lone Ranger, superheroes, etc. -- but by-and-large we're unaccustomed to them and find them threatening. It's similar to a subject I've been contemplating a bit lately: Clown fear. We fear the grotesque and unknown. God knows why. I've heard a million different explanations, and it's really all pretty moot to contemplate it here. It's just a fact.
I believe it's a fact we can overcome. Particularly watching Andrea's workshop last weekend, and the way everyone there loved performing in mask. It puts you into your body, and releases impulses (which may be part of why the Puritan in us runs screaming from them). It must be possible to transition from the current response of "Oh shit! A mask! Run!" to "Oh neat! A mask! I wonder what s/he'll do...?" This, at any rate, is how I imagine the response was in the time of commedia dell'arte. I suppose it was something similar to walking around the corner and finding someone doing really impressive breakdancing. Everybody loves to watch breakdancing.
What may be too much is to ask the average American to appreciate grotesque appearance. I've done some informal surveys, and though we as performers find them beautiful, a large quantity of folks these days have trouble appreciating traditional commedia masks. That blows, and I'd like to break them of it, but maybe we're forging enough new trails here as it is. Particularly when we're actively involving the audience in the way commedia and clown do. Zuppa has to confront that every show, sans mask, that initial defensiveness to having their fourth wall invaded. Add grotesque masks to the mix, particularly if they're dark leather or, say, riddled with warts, and I do believe you're asking a lot. "Holy shit! A seriously old man! Run!"
I could be (and often am) wrong. See above gratitude for having a potential dry run. Perhaps there's a finesse we can learn to working in mask similar to the sense we have of which audience members to involve in Zuppa antics in general. "Watch out for the four-year-old in the first row; she's a crier." "Thanks. Make sure you get the dude with the mustache at the end of six. He's my Dad, and into it."
But I also have an idea. (What? You, Jeff? It's true, and I will inflict it upon you. Wah-TA:) Just as we've approached commedia dell'arte as a "living tradition" all these years, perhaps the masks can be designed to be in the spirit of the originals, but responsive to our own century. My image of this -- though I also imagine the directions for this idea are limitless -- is of masks that take their features from the traditional masks, but filter them through some of the art and culture we're more accustomed to. Specifically, I wonder about more primary coloring and incorporating shapes at once more exaggerated and more basically geometric. (Anybody here seen Mirrormask? Totally stealing from it, I think.) The masks in my mind borrow a lot from cubism and technology (not technological function, but design). Bluetooth earpieces mask ears. Sunglasses mask eyes. Etc. Etc. The effect shouldn't be overt, but influenced by what we're accustomed to.
Take Arlecchino, for example.
If you use the traditional mask as a jumping-off point, there's already some basic geometry that jumps out at us. Circles for cheeks. Round eyes. Asymmetrical wart on the forehead. Arcing brows and pug nose. Maybe the contemporary mask borrows the colors of his traditionally patched costume, and is literally two circles on the cheeks, with arcing pieces rising out from them. Maybe the wart becomes a ball on a spring, or something more muted, like a barrette. This kind of image for me allows me to relax from the idea that someone is deceiving me, or mocking my appearance, and tells me immediately that their character is a scamp. It even rouses my curiosity. It's way more accessible for me than Picasso, at any rate.
Thoughts?
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