002. Wayne

A two hour session with Wayne. He's working on the Tony D'Amato speech from Any Given Sunday and it was really time to get to grips with it. I asked him to start by performing it as much for lines as anything else. He began well but at the climax to the speech proceeded to up the volume, continuing loudly to the close. Emotion and volume rarely work well together. Yes, a character might be angry and shout and scream because of it, but this is really the exception to the rule. Most of the time emotion is best expressed quietly, with a measured focus and intensity. If a man were to say, quite simply, "My wife died today," it's likely that we would find the matter-of-fact quality of the statement far more touching than if he spoke it at a thousand decibels. I ask Wayne to bring everything down whilst at the same time attempting to relate to Tony's anguish, the anguish of a man who feels that he's failed in life. As soon as he does so it starts to work. He communicates, draws me in, makes me listen. Suddenly, the speech seems shorter, has something rich and powerful to say. Wayne has made a real breakthrough here, a breakthrough that by his own admission has come sooner than he was expecting.

Next week we'll continue with Any Given Sunday but must look for a second, contrasting speech. We must also, at some point, start to think of doing a few scenes together as most likely it will be part of a scene he'll be asked to do if he goes up for a tv audition. And finally, I've asked him to perform the d'Amato speech to his wife with the goal of trying to hold her attention throughout by the sheer force of his presence and focus. All in all a good if exhausting two hours.

002. Viola

Viola always looks like a frightened deer for those first few moments after arriving to see me. Before we get down to work I ask her about her state of mind. Up and down, she says. She's been irritable, has experienced feelings of emptiness that she's made every effort to combat. She's tremendously talented and I tell her so. She's also neurotic and her own worst enemy. I tell her that too which she takes in good part, knowing it to be accurate.

I asked that she read Chekhov's Uncle Vanya before coming along, focusing especially on the character of Sonya. We perform the scene from Act Two in which Sonya asks Astrov not to encourage Vanya in his drinking and listens as Astrov relates his views regarding those around him and his own loveless life. I have a particular reason for suggesting we do this. I know that Viola is excellent when she has a whole chunk to read. Speeches don't hold a lot of fear for her. What I don't know is how well she interacts, reacts and, more specifically, listens. Listening is as much a part of acting as speaking but it's not easy. The actor who is listening is, of course, silent. That doesn't mean, however, that he or she stops performing. In drama there is no such thing as an empty pause, there are no empty gaps. Drama abhors a vacuum.

And so I want Viola to listen.

Sure enough, she doesn't find it easy at all. As Sonya, she 'acts' listening, pulling a 'listening' face whenever she thinks it appropriate to do so. And yet when she listens to me as Viola, it's perfect Sonya. In other words, we discover that there's no need for her to 'act.' She simply has to respond as she would normally, respond to Astrov's words as Viola herself would respond if she were to find herself in the same situation, - loving and fascinated by a man who has no romantic interest in her. When I point this out, she actually does start to listen, really listen. Not performing listening, not acting listening, - just listening. Pure and simple. It works. We begin to communicate, to bounce off each other and the scene suddenly bursts into life.

It's a good lesson and Viola's done well. It's always worth remembering that a play can never be successful if it merely relies on characters talking. If you don't get a sense of characters listening it will always fail. Drama is as much about reaction as it is about action. And that holds true even if the reaction is a silent one.

001. Introducing Chantelle

Chantelle is a new student. She's never done any acting of any description before. 22 years old, black, attractive, she's employed as a support worker for people with learning disabilities. As a complete beginner she has no idea whether she can act or not. I give her a few speeches to read, quite short, predominantly from film and therefore pretty much by definition un-theatrical. Among them is a snippet of Bridget from Bridget Jones Diary and Deer Woman from A Straight Story. At first Chantelle is very reticent, very held back but after being directed a couple of times begins to come out of her shell a little. I always find this. The first two or three sessions are really about nerves and how to get over them. Just about everyone is nervous. And not only beginners. The thought of putting yourself on display in front of a total stranger is a nerve-wracking experience. It's because of this that what I'm initially looking for in someone is just a small flash of ability or inspiration, the tiniest flash that I can then build upon.

As it happens, my instincts tell me that Chantelle is more than capable and I take a chance on her. I give her Angela from Like A Virgin by John Godber. It's a long, difficult speech spoken from the perspective of a young girl who is dying, full of emotion and anger and despair. I hold my breath. Will Chantelle even get through it let alone manage to perform any of it? I needn't have worried. Not only does she storm through to the end without mishap but she does so very well indeed, building to a climax that many more experienced actors might have had problems achieving. It just goes to show. We none of us know what skills and talents are sleeping within us. I'm excited by Chantelle and will be interested to watch her progress.

001. Introducing Magda

Magda! What to say about Magda? She was my first student. Young woman of 30. Works out of London. Loves acting. Mine is not the only class she takes. She spends as much time and money as she has available on classes at The City Lit and Pineapple Dance Studios. She's come to me for help with text work, specifically sight reading. There's just one problem. She has the thickest Hungarian accent I've ever heard in my life! The difficulty to be addressed here is not the accent per se. It's the fact that it's so heavy and pronounced that there's a loss of clarity. Add to that the speed at which she speaks and I've got my work cut out for me!

And yet, if that was the only issue I'd be relatively content. The fact is, however, that Magda finds it almost impossible to discover the freedom within herself to let herself go and simply perform. She's incredibly tight inside as if to give way even for a second would be to risk revealing more vulnerability than she could bear. Every piece of text that I give her she does in the same way, - exactly the same, - whether happy, sad, angry, anxious. All are presented in a monotonous, thick Hungarian accent. A woman is angry because she's had her baby taken away from her. Monotonous, thick Hungarian accent. A woman is distraught because she's driven into and killed a deer. Monotonous, thick Hungarian accent. A woman is overjoyed because she's heard that the man she loves reciprocates her feelings. Monotonous, thick Hungarian accent. Surely it's not in the Hungarian national character to sound so monotonous. Is it? No, I'm convinced not. This, surely, is something personal to Magda.

The problem is, - what to do about it?

I've given her a speech from The Lament for Arthur Cleary by Dermot Bolger
Role: Kathy (18yo)
(Though Magda is clearly too old for this particular role, it should make relatively few emotional demands upon her whilst still prompting her to express feeling in more subtle ways).

001. Introducing Derek

I love Derek. Well, I don't love him. But I certainly admire his enthusiasm and courage. In his fifties, for most of his life he's looked after his invalid mother. She died last year and upon reading her diaries he came across this entry: 'Derek, follow your dream.' His dream had always been to act and so, taking his mother's words to heart, he made a brave decision to attempt to break into the business come what may. Early days but already he's done pretty well. He's found himself an agent and landed the small role of a policeman in a corporate video. But he feels that he lacks training and experience, which of course he does, and has come to me for help.

Derek is a big man, - about 6'4" - a stereotype for the part of a policeman. The only trouble is, he's incredibly softly spoken, a gentle giant. Judging from appearance alone, the roles he'll be offered will be cops, thugs, bouncers, hard cases. And yet his whole personality would seem to suit the much more recessive character, the ivory-tower academic, the hen-pecked husband, the shy bachelor. There's a disjunction, in other words, between the way he looks and the way he is and in order to prepare him for auditions for as wide a variety of roles as possible I've not only got to work with him inside his comfort zone, - the way he is, - but to force him to perform outside it, in alignment with the way he looks.

I've given Derek a speech from Bouncers by John Godber.
Role: Eric
Also, Disposing of the Body by Hugh Whitemore.
Role: Henry
(Whilst Eric is obviously outside Derek's comfort zone, Henry ought to be well within it).

001. Introducing Wayne

Derek had been offered the part of a policeman but Wayne really is a policeman. Black. Late twenties. He says he's wanted to act for a long time. A muscular guy, works out, keeps himself fit. When you talk to him he looks at you in such an intense way that you feel unsure as to whether or not your words have hit home or even if any of them have gone in at all. However, it soon becomes apparent that Wayne's mind is working overtime, transforming whatever he's been told into so much data for use in the kind of 'good acting software' that he feels will assist him in a future career. Unfortunately, his lack of training means that at present the data is incomplete and the software only functions intermittently. Try as he might, strain as he does, whatever talent he possesses as a performer erupts in mere flashes. Blink and, - gone! Sometimes good. Sometimes, - not. No consistency.

All the same, there's something particularly appealing about Wayne. When he gets it right there's something very powerful there. He's the kind of person who can take you by surprise, the kind to make breakthroughs when you least expect them. What I like most of all about him is just that quality of listening, an ability to quietly take things on board. Of all the people who come to me I have an idea that it could easily be Wayne who'll make most progress with the greatest strides, even leaps, forward.

Wayne has chosen a speech for himself. From the film, Any Given Sunday.
Role: Tony.
(The role was made famous by Al Pacino. Wayne has seen the film but it's important that he doesn't attempt to copy Pacino's style but rather finds his own path through the speech).

001. Introducing Viola

Nineteen years old and extremely talented. Viola has all the potential and raw emotional power to make an incredibly fine actress. She's from South Africa and came over to try to get into Drama School but was too late with her applications. Now all she can do is wait though she's booked an intensive course for herself at The Poor School in August and is looking ahead to auditions for the National Youth Theatre in October. In the meantime, she's got me.

Obviously I can help her perfect her audition technique but there's a more pressing consideration where Viola is concerned. Her attitude and mental stamina. Is she positive enough and does she have sufficient grit and determination to succeed in what everyone knows to be a tough industry? She's certainly pretty flaky at times, full of self-doubt, and I find that many of my sessions with her tend to focus on boosting her confidence. She has friends, a supportive family, people like myself who believe in her. So, what fundamentally is her problem? I wish I knew. Maybe it's just being 19. Whatever it is, it's an issue she has to address. A modicum of self-doubt can be healthy. Too much of it can be merely debilitating and an obstacle to achievement.

Viola, you ought to fly! But will you? Watch this space.