A Week of Discovery – Rehearsal Process Article
Westport Country Playhouse Subscriber Newsletter
For those not intimately involved in producing theatre, a common misconception is that the process begins on the first day of rehearsal. In actuality, as rehearsals begin, the actors are joining a long journey already in progress. For months the director and designers have been hard at work imagining and sketching in the world that the actors will inhabit, and the actors have been carefully selected through a casting process that can often take many weeks. In the case of a world premiere, such as Harbor, there are often readings and/or workshops along the way where the director and playwright can hear the play aloud (sometimes in front of an audience) as they hone in on clarifying the story they want to tell. Yet, the first day of rehearsal does mark the arrival of the cast, completing the collaborative circle of artists who all work from the outset toward one goal: bringing the play to life, from the page to the stage and beyond as the audience takes the experience with them out into the world. This first day usually consists of a few words from the director, a presentation of the design materials (costume sketches and/or influences, scenic plans and/or models), followed by the first read through of the play. Usually actors do not read with other actors being considered during the casting sessions, so this is the first time for them to connect with each other as they navigate the text. And so begins the process of discovering the play . . .Table Work
Once everyone has their bearings from the first read through, the director and actors (and in our case, we are fortunate to welcome the playwright) stay around the table to work through the play, often moment by moment. This is an inquisitive process, one filled with brainstorming, imagination, and constant questions. With Harbor, we spent a good deal of time collectively thinking about events in the characters’ lives prior to the action of the play that aren’t necessarily delineated by the text, a useful tool for the director and actors called “the back-story.” This can include anything and everything from what abuse a character may have suffered in their childhood to what off-hand conversation took place just before lights come up. Just as our present actions in everyday life are often motivated by our past experiences, it is important to remember that these characters also have lived entire lives before the curtain rose. Exploring their pasts can help inform why they want what they want during the play and how they go about getting it. Our director, Mark Lamos, is particularly adept at posing helpful questions to the actors as they make their way through this discovery process. It is worth noting that the more rehearsal time can be about questions that lead to exploring the play that lead to answers, the more complex, rich, and ultimately truthful the work can be. Director/playwright Mary Zimmerman has written quite eloquently about this way of working, summing it up as being archeological rather than architectural. Rather than building a hollow production by spewing directives and nailing down exact ways to say each line, the adroit director leads the actors through a carefully guided excavation in order to unearth the spirit of their production, using the text as a guide. In this effort, our director is most facile.
What story are we telling?
Once the play has been worked through at the table, the process of staging the play on its feet begins. Though Mark works quickly through the first pass of the play, this is still a process of discovery. It is up to the director to keep an eye on the physical life brought to the play by the actors and to ensure that the life on stage cohesively adds up to tell the story we mean to tell. Over the course of the week, the costume, scenic, and sound designers have all stopped by rehearsal to get a sense of how their work will function in the context of the work that is being discovered in the rehearsal room. The scenic designer, for instance, was able to watch the flow of a particular scene to see how a small table may need to double as a seating area to support the physical life of the play. The sound designer and Mark had a lengthy conversation about the nature of the transitional music that will be incorporated into the production. Their meeting covered everything from the artistic intent of this element to the pragmatic concerns of needing to cover scene changes of a certain length. Underscoring was discussed, a facet to sound design that can greatly affect how an audience takes in the action on stage. Should music function as the glue between scenes that maintains and propels the play’s momentum, or should music color and internally drive the scenes themselves? As the physical life of the play begins to materialize during early rehearsals, more informed decisions can be made about the most effective way to support the story being told. It is crucial for the director to remember that every decision affects the storytelling in one way or another. This is especially important to keep in mind when crafting the first ten minutes or so of a production, when the audience will be acclimating themselves to the story itself as well as the way in which it’s being conveyed to them. At the very top of Harbor, two characters are in a van and listening to music as they travel. Selecting the piece of music begins with the choice of which character put on the music and what that music will tell the audience about that character. Additionally, since this music will be one of the first pieces of information the audience receives during the play, it serves two purposes. Though the character in question may love ’80s power ballads, playing a recognizable song from 1983 may lead some audience members to believe the play is taking place in 1983. This may or may not be appropriate for the play. What’s important is realizing that every choice sculpts a tiny (or not so tiny) part of the story being told.
The Life of the Room
One fun facet of the first week, once the actors get the play on its feet, is discovering “the life of the room.” This consists of exploring what activities could/should/would take place in the setting of the play, either on an ordinary day or an extraordinary day depending on the scene. The script may not call for one of the characters to open a bottle of wine and pour a glass for their guest, but if it would aid in their seduction of the other character, it could be a useful element to incorporate. It’s important to be wary of filling a scene with unnecessary business that distracts from what’s truly at stake for the characters, but rarely is it appropriate for characters to just sit and talk at length. How often does that happen in life? Certainly not in those moments in life often highlighted in plays, where our text is merely the surface level byproduct of the dramatic actions in which we engage. Finding a physical score that marries the life of the room to the event of the scene can help ground and fuel the actors. For instance, the second act of Harbor begins just minutes before a birthday party for the teenage Lottie. Mark Lamos’ imagination ran wild considering all the finishing touches the character Ted, the host, could be putting on the room in preparation. Once the party begins, another character begins a tirade intended to rain on the birthday parade; however, Mark made the excellent point that this would not necessarily deter the others from celebrating. Why would they stand around and listen to this speech with which they don’t agree when they could continue with their celebration? This physical life does not detract from the speech; in fact, we accept it more naturally because the life of the room rings as true.
Putting It All Together
As the first week of rehearsal winds to a close, completing the first pass through the play makes it possible to start working through entire acts to see the flow from scene to scene and how the proximity of one scene to the next can affect and inform its reception by the audience. This is extremely useful as a calibration tool for the director, who oversees the timbre and tempo of the theatrical event as a whole. As we continue to work on Harbor in its world premiere, this is also a good point in the process to invite Chad Beguelin, our playwright, back into the room to see how his work is coming to life off the page. Then Chad and Mark can sit down and assess how best to move forward to ensure the story the actors share with the audience on opening night is, indeed, the story they both are intending to tell. There are still many miles to travel on our journey, but it’s amazing to see what progress can be accomplished by the collaboration of all the artists involved in just one week of discovery.
Back to Writing Page