Laughing: Russian-Style

Lately I have had several interactions with Russian literature which have helped me to better understand their culture and their influence in theatre. In I.B. English we recently finished reading Crime and Punishment, a novel by Fyodor Dostoevsky, which tells the story of a young man who is dissatisfied with his life and ends up murdering a pawnbroker because he thinks this will benefit humanity. He suffers from the consequences of this action greatly until he confesses his crime and is sent to imprisonment in Siberia. Themes of suffering as well as poverty and drunkenness are prevalent throughout the novel.

In I.B. Theatre, we also read a Russian piece called The Seagull. It is actually a play, though, written by Anton Chekhov, one of the greatest Russian playwrights. The story of The Seagull revolves around the struggles of the upper class in Russian society and ends with the destruction of innocent life and even a suicide. The play was written in the late nineteenth century, only a decade after Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment was published.

Because I had the background of reading Dostoevsky before Chekhov, I was aware of the difficult times that Russians were experiencing during their industrialization. However, the struggles of the people in The Seagull seemed generally less significant than those in Crime and Punishment. Interestingly enough, this is how Russians created comedy. They were experiencing such difficult times, so even their comedy is dark. Russians would be kept entertained merely by the ridiculous worries of a man who's biggest problem is an addiction to writing. Even ending the story with a suicide would please the audience because the world that the characters live in was just so unrealistic to them the events were laughable.

I think that this points out the importance of context in the understanding of characters and even of the plots of theatre performances. So often, plays are written for specific audiences of  a certain time period, and it is only through extensive exploration that they can have meaning out of context. One of the most interesting aspects of an actor's life is the duty to learn about a completely foreign culture and time, and the give it a purpose in the modern world.

~Julie

A Voice from the Past

Upon the suggestion of one of my friends, I recently went to see The Artist, the nearly silent film about the transition from silent films to talkies, which came out last year. The movie was stunning from start to finish. It was a compelling story with talented actors and a new twist on the classic conflict between youth and tradition.

My favorite aspect of the movie, though, was watching how much more important movements are in silent films than in regular movies. I have always struggled with using my body on stage and so I was amazed to see how much more specific movement is when doing silent films. How do you say everything you need to say without your voice? Sure, the movements are exaggerated, but it is so much more complicated than that. Each time George Valentin moved his eyes, or adjusted his mouth, it changed every aspect of how his emotion was being perceived. Even the adjusting of a garment can change an entire character. Without words, the focus of the audience is direct towards their expressions and the way they use their body and so it becomes exponentially more important.

I wonder how many times they had to shoot each scene to get each detail just right. Maybe their skill comes from the fact that the stars of the movie are both dancers, but I was captivated by how aware of their bodies they were. I personally aspire to develop this sense of self-awareness and hope to learn more about the techniques of silent films.

~Julie

Suspending Our Disbelief

The other day in class, my teacher was trying to explain a theory to us using an analogy and scenario. However, every time she began, someone in the class interjected skepticism or a hypothetical problem with the story. For some reason, it was nearly impossible for everyone to accept the fiction and be entertained by it.

I think this is indicative of a greater problem with how entertainment is viewed in general. Unless we have experienced a situation or have seen it occur to some extent in some aspect of our lives, it is difficult to captivate our attentions. It is almost like we have isolated ourselves so that we won't even allow our imaginations to take us on even the slightest journey from the straight and narrow path ahead.

So what does this mean for the performer? It means that it has become our duty to break down the barriers. When people are satisfied with their lives, they are unwilling to consider what we have to offer. However, by learning how to sell the performance that people never knew they wanted to see, we can build curiosity. The more connections we can make with the audience, the more we will be able to pull them in and let them believe in the imaginary world we are living. And by helping them suspend their disbelief, we might help them learn a little something about themselves.

~Julie