Little Steps
I actually got some character work done yesterday evening. I reviewed my notes thus far -- I love the lion notes and hope I can get to the zoo this weekend. Then I read about half the script, including the final scenes where my character is involved. I think I'll keep reading my character's portion every day, along with a goodly chunk of the rest of the script. It seems the obvious approach, explaining why I didn't think of it sooner.
The character clicked. I've found at some point when I am doing my homework there is a click. Like a shutter opening. When the words feel like your own. It is a big part of what I spent last year training for. Keep up with the homework, daydreaming, reading, researching, and so on. I was doing so much by habit (yay!) it felt like I wasn't doing much of anything. It is gradual cumulative work, progressing to an "Ah ha!" moment. It felt like a big click, and I'm laughing at myself trying to figure out a better way to explain it.
So, I am excited. No where near where I need to be yet. The character work is just beginning. It is still good and motivating to find the character's voice. Somehow the pending dialect work seems less intimidating, and I am looking forward to how that will shape the character. All the other work shapes the character too, and I look forward to how he/I/we will evolve.
Speaking of work I was doing automatically. A couple days ago I figured out the name of my long dead friend, Nicholas N. Davis. He was killed December 18, 1984, about a year later than I thought. It happened during my first leave, and the details were slightly different than I recalled. I remembered there was a scuffle, but the shooting actually happened several blocks away in a parking lot, not in the restaurant.
We weren't as close in age as I remembered either. He was actually 12 years older than I, and as I thought about those days more I now wonder if I attributed the emergency surgery story correctly. While thinking of Nick and the cops I chatted with in the Little Biscuit, I had a picture of one of the pretty young female officers telling me that story.
It wasn't upsetting at all to find my memories had morphed a bit, making my recollections feel more personal. Somehow getting the facts straightened out was touching. Taking the time to refresh my memory strengthened the old connection and sadness. In some way the journey further eroded my personal walls. Even though I can't use those memories directly, they will add juice and have already helped with my homework.
One of the central concepts of Meisner is to create memories using the imagination. We build walls around our personal memories be they good or bad, and using a potent personal memory can be damaging to the actor, and impossible to keep fresh.
Real people -- okay.
Real tragedies/deaths -- nope.
That is so oversimplified I'm tempted to delete it, and may later on. I hurt or killed off my Dad for class many times in my imagination. He is alive, and one of my very best friends. Don't know what I'll do emotionally or artistically when he is really gone. I just know his strength and ethics live in me, and will always be there for me.
The character clicked. I've found at some point when I am doing my homework there is a click. Like a shutter opening. When the words feel like your own. It is a big part of what I spent last year training for. Keep up with the homework, daydreaming, reading, researching, and so on. I was doing so much by habit (yay!) it felt like I wasn't doing much of anything. It is gradual cumulative work, progressing to an "Ah ha!" moment. It felt like a big click, and I'm laughing at myself trying to figure out a better way to explain it.
So, I am excited. No where near where I need to be yet. The character work is just beginning. It is still good and motivating to find the character's voice. Somehow the pending dialect work seems less intimidating, and I am looking forward to how that will shape the character. All the other work shapes the character too, and I look forward to how he/I/we will evolve.
Speaking of work I was doing automatically. A couple days ago I figured out the name of my long dead friend, Nicholas N. Davis. He was killed December 18, 1984, about a year later than I thought. It happened during my first leave, and the details were slightly different than I recalled. I remembered there was a scuffle, but the shooting actually happened several blocks away in a parking lot, not in the restaurant.
We weren't as close in age as I remembered either. He was actually 12 years older than I, and as I thought about those days more I now wonder if I attributed the emergency surgery story correctly. While thinking of Nick and the cops I chatted with in the Little Biscuit, I had a picture of one of the pretty young female officers telling me that story.
It wasn't upsetting at all to find my memories had morphed a bit, making my recollections feel more personal. Somehow getting the facts straightened out was touching. Taking the time to refresh my memory strengthened the old connection and sadness. In some way the journey further eroded my personal walls. Even though I can't use those memories directly, they will add juice and have already helped with my homework.
One of the central concepts of Meisner is to create memories using the imagination. We build walls around our personal memories be they good or bad, and using a potent personal memory can be damaging to the actor, and impossible to keep fresh.
Real people -- okay.
Real tragedies/deaths -- nope.
That is so oversimplified I'm tempted to delete it, and may later on. I hurt or killed off my Dad for class many times in my imagination. He is alive, and one of my very best friends. Don't know what I'll do emotionally or artistically when he is really gone. I just know his strength and ethics live in me, and will always be there for me.
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