Lab 3 proved another interesting experiment.  Four inventive, curious proposal pieces were shown, followed by a discussion between participants and viewers.

With three labs under our experimental belts, I’m continually energized by how varied the responses are to each  individual challenge.  From one Billy Collins poem, we were shown 1:Decrouxian mime, 2: a Tim Burton-esque scene of a girl bringing her doll to life, 3: a love scene between man and cardboard tube, and 4: a duet of wading through a mess of possessions and garbage.  Oh, and not one word was spoken.

The challenge was a tough one.  It boiled down to something like “without words, turn a rather vague poem about seeing a wonder of the world into a theatrical scene.”  What proved rather trying for the creators was that the poem never designated a specific mood.  It didn’t say “you are happy as you see this,” or “you feel nervous as you wait…”  The poem is a bit ambiguous; shrouded in fog.  HOWEVER, I think the most successful scenes  fought against this ambiguity.  They took the mushy lump of clay, made some decisions, and formed their creations with structure and dynamics.  For example, Blake created a piece with seven sections (one for each stanza of the poem,) and titled each section after the first line of the stanza.  I think this structure drew the audience in, and helped us connect to a precise, yet abstract piece of movement theater.

Also exciting is that Labs are now starting to build upon themselves.  The theme for Lab #2 was “Surprise,” and this time, we were totally prepared and eager to discuss what we found surprising in each scene.  The methods of achieving surprise were as diverse as scenes themselves: running into the audience, long held eye contact with audience members, “blood” red yarn being pulled from the neck of a  stabbed ‘doll,’ or the sudden, genuine love for a piece of trash, expressed in a kiss.

So, we take what we have learned, this time and the times before, and we continue to experiment and explore.  Which, of course, is how it should be.  With each attempt, success or failure, we learn.  We get some new tools.  We refine old ones.  We end up a little better equiped to take on the next challenge.  And with each challenge, we continue to  better understand the entire Lab project, itself an ongoing experiment.

Part 1
It is about forty minutes since I first looked at the poem. Really looked. What have I done in that time? Read and worked through the poem in my head.

RESPONSES AT THIS POINT
There is a boat, a journey. There is a “wonder.” For me this feels archeological, historic, I am connecting (though not very clearly yet) with a literal one of the wonders of the world. But the poem seems to focus more on the viewer’s experience than the thing itself. The whole poem seems a little vague to me, the details are not sharp. At least, not the details I am looking/expecting to find.

I am struck by the use of “you” as the person going through the experience. Partially this makes the poem more distant for me. The narrative voice does not own the experience, it is guiding the reader through it. But instead of details about the thing (which seems to be called “it”) which we are free to respond to, the author gives us details on how we see it, how we feel about seeing it.

TECHNICAL DETAILS:
There are 7 stanzas. Each is made up of three lines. Except the final stanza which is 4 lines long.

ORGANIZING THOUGHTS:
Okay, I have to translate this poem into a theater piece. No words. Five minutes. Great. (Is five minutes the “right” duration for this poem? Or will I have to push beyond merely “translating” to make up five minutes of performance?)

I have chosen to create and perform solo. I have some thoughts about a Decroux/Margolis-Brown inspired piece. This is stuff I studied for two years in Minneapolis right after finishing the Dell’Arte school. Learn about Decroux on wikipedia or explore the Margolis-Brown website. I enjoy playing with these techniques from time to time but have no real idea how to integrate into the rest of my work. But who knows what form this creation might take in the end, it could become a clown piece for all I know now.

PLAN OF ATTACK?
If I were to take each stanza (perhaps breaking each into a 30-45 second piece?) then each one could be titled by its first line:

I. It is just coming into view.
II. As we continue to maintain this heading
III. At this point, you can see a great deal of it.
IV. of almost archeological seriousness.
V. Now you are able to see the whole thing, in moonlight!
VI. It looks different than it does in photographs
VII. It is enough to make you reach for the locket

And then there is the “extra” line in the fourth stanza: “over the cold streaming surface of these waters.”
That is the big finish? Hmm.

FINAL THOUGHTS
I am thinking that I will play “it” and the audience will be “you” and what about the narrator? I suppose, wordless, we don’t need an intermediary between “it” and “you” other than space and time. So, whatever I am playing, perhaps my goal is to create for the audience the experience of the poem? I have some vague images in my mind what this could be but nothing really specific. Yet. I do have a working subtitle for my piece: A Duet Between It and You.

PART 2
We’re now two hours from presentation time. I’ve been working this morning but have a lot to do if this is going to come together. I have created a soundtrack, begun to craft moments of surprise (building off of the last Lab challenge), and have a pretty clear idea given this duet between “it” and “you” how the piece moves. My focus has been on the relationship between me onstage and the audience (since I am trying to put the audience in the place of “you” in the poem). But something major is missing and it’s now time to fill in the gaps.

The thing lacking is what I am doing. I know how it wants to relate spatially to the audience. But what is my action. I’m still thinking in terms of a movement piece, decroux-inspired poetry but what are the gestures, what is the language, what is the action? This needs to be filled in. This is the part of the poem that is vague to me. The poet describes the relationship, but keeps back the details. So perhaps it’s not surprising that these details are what I’m missing.

I have two hours to create them. Which is plenty of time. But a little nerve-wracking nonetheless.

Part 3
I’m writing this final part of my lab creation log after the fact. What happened to the structure I had imagined when I finally got to the final phase of on-the-feet creation? Well, parts of it worked. The opening and closing of the piece made sense. The first section of entering, revealing, creating mystery came together. The second section, where the mountain seems to step aside, felt a bit rough but the gesture of the moment worked. The plan for surprising the audience with “the enormity” of the wonder involved breaking the fourth wall and taking the movement directly into the audience as well as a drastic change of energy and rhythm. The end and exit of the piece was a simple rowing away gesture with an invitation to follow. But between the breaking of the fourth wall and the exit at the end…I felt like I didn’t have a clear gestural vocabulary to work with.

Time was ticking down and there was something missing from the language of the piece. What was needed? It started to dawn on me that it was as the “wonder” grew closer to the audience, I needed to fill in the details. The out of focus quality of the poem was becoming a problem. I needed to choose a specific “wonder” to place into my structure. Something that had emotional resonance for me and from which I could create some new details, movement, and images. Something had to be chosen which could pull the piece out of generality.

The images that started to resonate with me were sexual in nature. I have to admit, I have no idea where this came from. Maybe it was the “moonlight” referred to in the poem, the idea that “it looked different than it appeared in photographs.” Perhaps it was the music I had chosen for the moonlight section. But the idea of nudity, the actions of unbuttoning, of teasing and flirting started to enter into the movement vocabulary I had chosen. For me this was the final part of the script I had been missing. Semi-abstract, part-personal, part-imaginative…the structure of the piece finally existed.

Part 4 (Notes on performance)
The last thing I want to address from the experience of Lab#3 is my internal perspective on the performance. The piece was quite abstract in terms of what the audience received. Along the way, I was very aware of how moments were playing, especially when things felt too precious. As a result, more than was initially my intention, I threw in a few clown/comic moments here and there. How much I leaned into those moments was based on what I felt from the room: was there laughter? Had it hits its peak, could I push it longer, when did the next moment need to begin? It was the first solo piece I had performed in a while and it was a lot of fun to be able to adjust the script based on my experience of the performance. I found it quite exciting to be seeking in real time a balance between an abstract movement piece, more concrete imagery, and a less formal clown mentality. Although it is really very terrifying to create and perform solo, I think I need to push myself to do more of it in these Labs.

Challenge: Create a short performance which, without any words, tells the story of the following poem:

A Wonder of the World by Billy Collins

It is just coming into view.
You can begin to make out its westerly corner
and you are now getting some idea of its dimensions.

As we continue to maintain this heading
more of it will gradually be revealed,
the mountain appearing to step aside to permit a fuller view.

At this point you can see a great deal of it.
It is more colossal than you had expected,
and you were not at all prepared for its look

of almost archaeological seriousness
as if you should be wearing steel-rimmed spectacles
in order to view it properly.

Now you are able to see the whole thing, in moonlight!
Nothing is standing between you and it
except an immeasurable volume of salty night air.

It looks different than it does in photographs
and it is nothing like what you had imagined,
but there it is, motionless, unavoidable, real.

It is enough to make you reach for the locket
in which you carry your picture of the world
as you glide closer and closer to it
over the cold streaming surface of these waters.

Notes:

• Try to capture the energy and emotion of this poetic source material, but push to explore and create your own ‘wonder of the world.’  What visual story can you tell that captures the emotion of journeying to witness something surprisingly amazing?  Is your ‘wonder’ an ancient temple, or something perhaps much smaller and domestic?  How do you reveal it as amazing?
• No words.  None.  Embrace and run with that.  What other tools do you have?  You’re certainly allowed sounds, and even vocal expression.  But no words.
• Can you lead the audience on an emotional journey similar to what is described in the poem?  (Yes, you can!  But how…)
• The challenge is our common seed.  From here, grow your own fruit tree.

Specifics:

• Participants will be company members and invited guest artists.
• Creators may perform a solo piece, or may direct a small ensemble of their choosing (if you need help finding performers, or if you are a performer interested in getting involved, let me know.)
• Creations should be roughly 5 minutes in length.
• Aim to spend 4 hours creating and rehearsing.

Lab 3

Saturday, October 17

Presentation at 2pm, discussion follows.