Recently in Rehearsal Category

I haven't posted for a while because I've actually been quite busy: a LOT of auditions, took an "Improvisation for Commercials" class at Weist-Barron, a "Commercial Casting Director Festival" through The Network, and I'm starting to do more background work (mostly for the money). As a quick aside, the improv commercial class and The Network casting director meet-and-greet resulted in some commercial agent referrals. One of my major goals is to get commercial representation, and I seem to be making progress in that direction . . .

But for the moment, I've been focusing on how best to grow between acting jobs (i.e., off-off-Broadway theater, which I consider really more on-the-job training). One of the best ways, I've discovered, is scene work. We've been focusing on scene work in Deborah Carlson's Word Of Mouth Studios, but up till now, I haven't fully appreciated its value and opportunity. I mean, I knew it was important, but I underestimated its value.

I was cast in a Columbia University MFA director's scene study workshop: the goal of the class was for a director to put together a scene with about 1-2 weeks of rehearsal. I was cast against type as king Creon in Sophocles epic Antigone. I've put the scene below. It was a fair amount to understand and memorize in a week & a half — between working on the scene at home and the 3 rehearsals we had, it actually turned out to be a major project that crowded out auditions I had planned for that week — rehearsals took place in the tower of Riverside Church up near 119th Street in Harlem, so it was a fair commute from Brooklyn).

What I learned:

Rehearsals for The Last Jew In Europe have been going well, smoother then with most shows. For reasons I can't quite put my finger on, the lines have been easier to learn than in other shows. I suspect, however, that this may have to do with my strong, almost fanatical text-based approach, and simply always, in rehearsal, saying my lines like I mean what I'm saying.

The role is further challenging for me because I need to have a convincing Polish accent -- I find Dr. David Alan Stern's Acting With an Accent series a terrific resource (amazon.com probably has the best prices):

Something else I found surprising -- I just stopped working on "building a character," i.e., I've just been working within a strong text-based approach, and the notes I've been getting from the director have been your intentions are good, they're on the right track, they're right there. However, I've never really thought about, or at least put much effort into thinking about, my "character," my "actions" or "intentions" simply because Tuvia, the playwright, has done all the work for me, i.e., all that stuff is IN the lines! 

Everything I've been learning in Deborah Carlson's Word of Mouth Studios I've been faithfully and rigorously applying in rehearsal and preparation, and it seems to have taken me quite far, much farther than I ever expected, at least for this production. This approach, in my estimation and experience, is definitely the foundation of acting -- you're dead, theatrically speaking, if you don't have it -- an actor may be using this approach natually/organically, but if they're not, they'll need to learn it (like me).

Angel Heart just closed and I'm in rehearsal for The Last Jew In Europe which opens in a few days. I'm always so grateful for these off-Off-Broadway opportunities because they give me a chance to keep learning how to act (The Great Joy & Purpose Of My Life), and a big part of learning how to act, I'm learning, is learning how to rehearse, by myself and with others. Patsy Rodenburg, in the preface to her book chapter Voice And Text Meet Rehearsal, effectively hammers this home:

I am sometimes alarmed at [the] complete ignorance of acting craft or just how fundamental it is for a successful show to have actors who know to work properly on themselves, with each other, and on a text.

I've cyber-penned few posts about the critical importance of the relationship between meaning and rhythm in language, and why it's one of the first thing an actor should do when they pick up brand new text.

I've both witnessed (as a stage manage) and experienced (as a actor) a rehearsal technique called "speed throughs," and in light of what I've been learning about rhythm and meaning, this technique comes off -- at best --  as weird and of limited value, or -- worse -- counter productive and a waste of time.

Email to Deborah @ Word Of Mouth Studios:

Hey Deb,

I had an interesting Angel Heart rehearsal tonight -- I finally stopped (as best I could) trying to act: it's a bit hard to explain, but I just started to let go (as best I could) of trying to do something and instead just applied what I've been learning in Word of Mouth and just LET things happen:

Krusmark "realized," Krusmark "brought to life," Krusmark "in the moment," has nothing to do with how I think or feel he should be: Krusmark "realized/brought to life/in the moment" is just breathing the text, getting out of the way, and letting the text effect me -- what happens IS "Krusmark," and . . . he's unplanned and he's a surprise!

Getting out of my own way has a lot to do with just accepting what Krusmark "is" ( i.e., letting the words effect me) and not trying to do anything more. Rehearsal and acting now get exciting. Without this, it can be a strain and a chore.

I think "trying" to act, in some ways, is a way to insure that I do "act" because I'm afraid to hand control over to what I've been learning. That is, what if I let go, and -- I can't act? Or nothing happens? Or the wrong thing happens? "Trying" to act is the very definition of control -- when what I really need to be practicing is Trust.

OK -- finally, I think I'm starting to "get it," and "doing it" is a kind of surrender and trust, and (at least for me), that's something I have to practice and get better at.

Now -- the next steps are learning to listen better, letting my partner affect me the way the text affects me: trusting that relationship to create the scene rather than trying to "drive" or "control" the scene somehow (again, in a well-intentioned but ultimately misguided attempt to be "good" or get it "Right).

Just letting go.

Tony Noice, an actor, director, teacher and cognitive researcher answers the question: "how the hell do you remember all those lines?"

Notes from Word of Mouth @ A/C Studios/Early rehearsals for Riant Theatre's production of The Upside Down Mirror by Emanuel Fleischmann

First we form habits. Then they form us.
  ~Rob Gilbert

Habit is either the best of servants or the worst of masters.
  ~Mark Twain

As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new dimensions of the soul will not emerge.
  ~Henry van Dyke

When I'm learning a role, at some point, I write out my dialogue. This 1) helps me to remember it (a technique I learned from Ed Hook's The Actor's Field Guide: Notes on the Run) and 2), it helps me to focus on each word.

A third incredibly helpful purely physical technique I'm practicing is quite simple -- breathing: while self-rehearsing, I let my breathe fully drop, all the way, down to the bottom of feet, before speaking, and then I just go slow enough to "be" in each word.

Specifically, here's my new self-rehearsal technique:

1. I read and read and read the play to get the sense, the meaning, the thought or intent behind each line of dialogue. It's not that easy, at least for me, but it does becoming easier with experience.
2. Once I've got the meaning, then I integrate the breathe into the meaning: I let my breath fully drop (so I can feel what I'm saying),
3. and I pay close attention to my partner and what I'm trying to communicate

So what does it mean, really, to integrate the breathe into the meaning?

Ok, I tried something . . . strange, and it really seemed to work (quoting from an online article here):

In the early 1980s, a man named Scott had heard of a process called affirmations from a friend. The process he learnt was simple.

Visualize what you want and write it down fifteen times in a row, once a day, until you obtain it.

Scott was told that the process did not require any faith or positive thinking for it to work. Even more interesting was the suggestion that the technique would influence the environment directly and not just make you more focused on your goals. In other words, it would spawn amazing coincidences to move you towards your goals. The coincidences could be things that were seemingly unconnected to you and beyond your control.

Scott was very left-brained and logical in his thinking. He had his doubts about the process but figured that there was no harm in trying.

Within a few weeks, coincidences started to happen to me, wrote Scott. Amazing coincidences, strings of them. I won't mention the specific goal I was working on, as it was a private matter, but within a few months the goal was accomplished exactly as I had written it.

Armed with this confidence in the power of affirmations Scott decided to apply it to a more challenging goal - getting into the highly competitive Berkeley MBA program.The problem was that he had already taken the entrance exam, the G.M.A.T, and only hit the seventy-seventh percentile score. He knew he needed to be above the ninetieth percentile to at least have a chance of being accepted.

Scott picked the outlandish target of ninety-four as his goal and again applied the affirmation technique.

Despite not being able to go much higher than the seventy-seventh percentile in the practice exams Scott was surprised to learn that he did indeed hit the ninety-fourth percentile for the G.M.A.T - just as he had written in his affirmations. He graduated with his Berkeley MBA in 1986.

A few years later he tried pursuing a more serious goal, that of being a syndicated cartoonist. He knew the odds of his cartoon submission being accepted by a major newspaper were roughly 1 in 10,000.

He beat those odds and his cartoon was accepted. He was soon earning a decent living with his cartoon strip but he wanted to achieve something bigger.He decided he wanted the most successful comic strip on the planet. Scott felt that the best measure of "most successful" would be number of books sold.

In June 1996 his book The Dilbert Principle hit the number-one spot on the hardcover nonfiction list of the New York Times.

Reporters often ask me if I am surprised at the success of the Dilbert comic strip. I definitely would be so, if not for my bizarre experience with affirmations. As it was, I expected it., he writes in his book The Dilbert Future.

How To Believe

      So, what the hell, I tried it. I wrote down something I really wanted in rehearsal, something I felt was missing, i.e., a sense of the reality of the world of the play, and something Morgan Freedman had said: Acting is just pretending except that you really really pretend . . .

Though I had been doing this exercise nightly, before sleep, I had really forgotten all about it, until tonight, and then something happened: during rehearsal, some reason, tonight, I really listened as if I was hearing everything being said to me for the first time (while no one was off book, I was quite familiar with the scene) & I believed, i.e., I just accepted the other person, what they were saying, how they really looked right there, right now, under those harsh room lights, among the broken chairs -- I denied none of it: I just accepted we were having a war council (i.e., Charles & Joan before Orleans), I just accepted everything: people just showed up for rehearsal, and I just let myself see everything, the other as they were, the room as it was, and I just accepted that this is Tremouille, Dunois, this is how they sound, how they look, how they act, this is where we are, right now, and then . . . I believed every word they said and I believed everything they did . . .

                  . . . I just accepted them as they were, and then everything was "real."

Thoughts, triggers, & background homework in scene 2 seem to be forming the basis of some great improv, i.e., after a character speaks, I improv my thoughts and feelings, not as me, but as Charles, then I go back into the actual text.

Often this "activation" carries me effortlessly through the next few lines of dialog until something changes in the text (i.e,. a beat change). All this based on my imaginative forages into the world of the play.

Also, this leads to an idea: how to respond, be alive, when the other character is talking to me. When the other character has long "speech," have him/her say one line or thought to me, as best they can, mean what they say, and then I'll breathe and just improv an immediately intuitive response to that one line/thought, and the other actor breathes that in, really listens, and then responds with the next line or thought. This is really to help me take in and start to respond to what the character is saying to me.

"saving it" or slowly working towards some final performance level that will coincide with opening night and the run.

Reality: I'm holding back -- not moving forward.

How it's done: if each rehearsal gets stronger, richer, more full, more clear and my ability to find more and more new, interesting and exciting insights, then that's how to grow into a performance! Work hard each time!

Worse rehearsal is a long time -- the worst: was not prepared for the scene, had not worked/thought it through. Other problems:

• forgot to write down blocking for the last rehearsal so today I was suddenly lost,
• didn't mentally-physically rehearse and pick out one or two things to address
• overtired: not enough rest/sleep

Generally felt terrible, aware of how little I was getting or giving, and was not able to rally or focus, and rally to what, focus on what? Jill somewhat pointedly noted my fumbling during rehearsal . . .I was not prepared -- I'd better figure out what that means, how exactly to do that.

Next time:

1. Prepare: read/review the scene, blocking notes, any notes from self rehearsal. Critical to self rehearse, and then prepare to rehearse -- be ready to do that (don't just show up and then try to get orientated).
2. Pick specific things I want to work on.
3. Rehearse well -- give it my all (#1, #2, #4, & #5 here will be the foundation of this)
4. After rehearsal, sit down, review, as I'm doing now
5. Write down the next steps, the next things I want/need to do in rehearsing a scene

"Seraphic Dialogue" (1955) by Martha Graham, an interpretative vision, and one of the greatest moving Masterpieces of the 20th Century . . .

                      . . . Joan's transformation by the Angles.

I was hoping I could do here, in this journal, what I did with the short scene for the Weise-Barron show case, but no way I can keep up in this journal, as much as I'd love to . . . later, if I keep careful notes, I'll detail the work I'm doing, which is starting to get intense -- all I can do is sketch some early things out here: I've got to remember to update my written journal after each rehearsal so that I can later transfer things here.

Some Running Notes:

• I pause a lot. I pause because sometimes I don't know why I'm saying something, and I'm waiting for motivation . . . inspiration . . . a miracle. Ron has me running through the text, and at first I thought 'how's that going to help!?,' but now I see . . . he's trying to get me to stop thinking, and this almost subconsciously seems to free up resources to focus on doing, and that is making things clear much more quickly than "thinking" about them . . . Ron's an old pro, and he knows what he's doing . . .
• To perform is such a great learning opportunity, but the role is so large, I feel I have to work more quickly than usual, and the main challenge has been not to get bogged down. I feel I'm on the verge of working in a new way -- more physical/intuitive, and next week I'll start a workshop that will meet twice a week for a month based on Patsy Rodenburg's work. What little I've done seems to have helped allot . . . I'm still scared and anxious, but I'm getting into the rhythm of working for all this -- my life is about to be consumed by it all for the next two months . . . if I forget my fears, albeit only momentarily, then I feel like the luckiest man alive . . .

Scene: Jeanne d'Arc in Chinon (1429), Castle of Chinon, Loire Valley, France. 15 years earlier, on the morning of October 25th, the French suffered a catastrophic defeat on the rain soaked fields of Agincourt: 2200 French cavalry, 33,000 infantry of Charles VI confronted an invading English army of 5000 lead by King Henry V. The English lost 13 horsemen, 100 infantry. French loses totaled close to 30,000: 12,000 killed, many more wounded. Henry V was recognized by the French in the Treaty of Troyes (1420) as regent and heir to the French throne. This was cemented by his marriage to Catherine of Valois, the daughter of King Charles VI.

Nine years later, with defeat piled on defeat, the French house is bankrupt, the northern half of France is owned by, and is squeezed under, tight English Control. What reminds in the south is in the hands of roving bands of marauders. I, Charles VII, The Dauphin, am cloistered away in the Castle of Chinon: broke, no authority -- here or anywhere -- and the rumor in France is that I will pitch the crown and take what little I have left and will run away to Scotland.

The first sound advice I've heard in months.

The siege of Orleans has begun. As Orleans goes -- so goes France, and the last of France, huddled behind shaking crumbling walls, waits for the end . . . it is the end. In truth -- it's past the end: I believe France is already gone. My dreams of France, my dreams for myself . . . like a cruel joke!

All this -- God did this, to France, to me. Believe?! Believe in what?!! I am nothing, because I AM nothing. Who's to save France? Let God do it! God who has taken so much from France, from me, let Him left the bow, shoulder the harness, drag the wagons of the dead and dying through the mud!

I cannot save what God hates.

And what men are left? Men like La Tremouille, the Archbishop -- they don't give a shit about France, and if they could figure out a way to get rid of me, they'd seize everything and sell out to England . . . maybe they're doing exactly that right now . . . maybe they should do exactly that right now. . . maybe they're right & smart to sell out . . . maybe I really am a fool. They don't give a shit, they don't care, and I despise them: Bastards, traitors, and I cannot stand up to them. They are France now, what's left of it: 'Thank you God, for making them so strong, and powerful, giving them every advantage, and leaving me with none!' They hold the "real" power now. I am my father's son -- nothing more. I cannot save France -- instead, I now dream of saving myself, far away, in another place, alive, safe . . . in a place where I do not recognize myself . . .

If they knew . . . how I felt, they would move against me, and what could I do to stop them? I need them --funny -- to keep me alive -- I can't have them decide to turn against me, so I let them talk about me and treat me the way they want. My one strength: to be a clown, in the face of all. At France, at me, I'll laugh with God . . .

Stop caring. I don't care anymore.

Beat #1. Trigger: France is going to hell in a hand basket, albeit a nice hand basket; I'm an idiot, a fool, I look ridiculous, I act ridiculous-- I am ridiculous-- I'm not going to be seen "dancing" while Rome burns . . .

Relationships: The Little Queen. Harmless, "nice," and doesn't "get it." If she did, I might have a friend, one friend, in the last place on earth . . .
Angus . . . smart, hot, I want her, I can't really stand her, because I think she does "get it," but like a cat -- she has other agendas. Yolande does care about France, about me, I think, and she thinks Angus will do me good -- it's completely hopeless, but if she wants to throw Angus in my bed . . . why not? It may be the end, but . . . one can't let oneself get too depressed . . . but she bugs me. I act like a fool, but she sometimes, sort of, acts like a AM a fool.

I'm not a fool.

NOTE: Charles is "on stage" here -- "acting like a fool for all the world to see," so I'm going to set things here, and practice how I'll say them. Normally I wouldn't do this, but Charles needs to be funny, sarcastic, with undertones of dispair, contempt. Using humor to handle it all . . .

Great, I've scared myself to death -- again. This role I've accepted -- it's the largest thing I've ever gotten: not the lead, but a central main character, a co-lead, I guess: the same character across a couple of different large scenes from two plays. I'm oscillating between oh my god, oh my god, thank you thank you thank you, oh my god, oh my god, thank you thank you thank you . . .

. . . Where do I begin? How do I do this?

Break it down -- there's time. The Adding Machine was fairly large, though this is larger (gulp!), but I've done scenes before, and this role is really just 5-6 scenes, and it doesn't go up until the end of May.

• First, I've got a photocopy of the script, but it's small and tiny -- I need a more spacious copy, if I can find one.
• Second, there's a professional production (a film) of the play. It's too early to watch, but once I've really found my way, I think/hope it'll be enormously instructive to watch a professional actor doing my role, but I need to locate this film -- probably the New York City Library of Performing Arts at Lincoln Center.
• Third, read the play (or plays) -- one is The Lark by Jean Anouilh, which explains all the physical activity of the character.
• Forth, I need to come up with a good solid rehearsal schedule: I would love to keep up with my monologue and cold reading work, but the role will gradually start to crowd out available time -- that's too bad because I was working hard to build a habit of working on these things, and I'm making progress ... well, if I'm extremely good in managing my time (another habit I'm working hard to acquire -- working hard because I haven't yet acquired that habit!), I should be able to get 30min-40min/day, 4-5 days/week for cold reading, just to keep momentum in that area -- momentum is everything! One monologue is coming together now -- the thing to do is get that nailed down as quickly as possible and then audition at 13th Street Theatre. OK -- there are my goals between now until the end of May. I need to set a definate schedule with deadlines, and then -- stick to it, and I'll both be OK and I'll achieve what I want to achieve.

There's so much work I want to do -- I find myself immersed it all, and I want to spend all my time doing it: I went to great movement and voice monologue workshop last night . . . voice and movement, the two magic engines of it all: the immediate and BIG benefit was it just made me much more present in my body, and then -- I suspect -- all the inner work from a scene or monologue, any images, all that will affect me that much more readily, that much more surprisingly and deeply, i.e., I hadn't really done that much work on this one monologue . . . yet, I was amazed at how simply being fully present and just letting myself be affected by whatever was going at the moment, without even trying to think about the character, the given circumstances, etc., made the work surprisingly more alive and nuanced. Nice!

      I know the first line, the rest is an improvisation . . .
      - Kevin Klein, on playing Hamlet

Showcase Performance Dates: 12.12, 12.14, & 12.15.05, 7PM, Weist-Barron, 35 West 45th Street, New York City.

   Question. Did all the analytical preparation help? These imagination exercises were created on pen and paper, and they certainty helped me "understand" Howard. But how to bring that to the stage . . . can it be brought to the stage, to the set . . . ?

    I hope time and experience will help this transference -- I'm not sure if there is much transference, unless I force it, sort of, or at least parts of it. I'm ambivalent about it -- though I did enjoy the exercises immensely, and I felt, in the end, that I understood Howard, my Howard, very well.
    I suspect it's an intermediate step, somewhere between personal, intuitive, impulsive response (where truth is always found) and the constraints of the text, the special problems of specific moments. I used it as a bridge, a tool to crack open the tough parts of the scene.

    Finally, what is baseball? Really, it's just fundamentals: it's hitting the ball, catching the ball, and throwing the ball. Practice like hell, learn those fundamentals well enough and you just might find yourself in the majors. It's just fundamentals.

    And that is what acting is. Tonight: moment-by-moment. The moment is all I have. Talk to her, really talk to her . . . really love her. Really watch and listen -- is she hearing me? Whatever effect I'm having, take it in, let it hit me . . . and don't think -- trust.

Beat 5. Here it seems it's all about triggers (NOTE 1: these triggers, what Howard hears or thinks, were found in rehearsal -- I didn't " decide" that this is what H thinks/hears.

NOTE 2: in [] are the typical response I had -- most of them I didn't try to have, but they did start to become a habitual response. If the performance went on for more than I week, the triggers would have stayed the same, but the responses would have changed.

NOTE 3: the triggers, H's thoughts are my best recollections of the moments, but they are poor fits to what I was actually feeling/experiencing. I did find a deep emotional logic, a combination of an awareness of being pushed by R, a need to find a way out, and a growing resentment. This needed to happen on it's own, at it's own pace. What I'm writing here didn't drive or control the scene -- what was happening was much faster than thought and language. These thoughts and words are my best recollection of what happened, but what they were in those moments . . . something else created them . . . not me, i.e., not a "me" thinking/planing how it was going to be.

What I want is constant from Beat 4 to end of the scene: I'm not getting married like this, this pressure, this urgency . . . When Rosemary talks, what follows is what Howard hears . . .

Howard.
    Well, can't we talk about this Saturday? I'm dead tired and I've got a busy week ahead, and . . . [Note: I had create a complete thought, though I never had a chance to express it:I've got to get up early to drive back to the courthouse at 10 when it opens...]   

Rosemary.
  You gotta marry me, Howard
   [right now!? We need to get married right now!?]

Howard.
   Well -- honey, I can't marry you now. [Here I found a choice of looking at my watch, i.e., making a small joke, trying to get her to lighten up]

Rosemary.
   You can be over here in the morning.
   [She's not hearing me, not taking the hint]

Howard.
   Sometimes you're unreasonable. [this usually came out as light exasperation]

Rosemary.
  You gotta marry me, Howard
   [She's pushing me. I have to get out of this. She has to teach tomorrow -- what is she thinking?]

Howard.
  What'll you do about your job?

Rosemary.
  Alvah Jackson can take my place till they get someone new from the agency.
  [Great! She's not gonna back down . . . I don't want to do this, this is a huge pain in the ass, this, all this, is so unreasonable, it's not fair, doesn't she see this . . . ? ]

Howard.
  I'll have to pay Fred Jenkins to take care of the store for a few days.
  [NOTE: this "thought"/feeling, fairly complex in the moment, actually came before the line: One more unreasonble thing I need to do, this can't be happening . . . ]

Rosemary.
  Then get him.
  [is there anything else that I can do, say . . .? . . . no . . .]

Beat 6. It's all triggers . . . getting what I want . . . and love and compassion . . .

Howard.
   No.

Rosemary.
  Howard!

Howard.
  I'm not gonna mary anyone that says, "You gotta marry me, Howard." I'm not gonna. (Rosemary starts to cry). If a woman wants me to marry her -- she can at least say "please." [My typical response was to simply use these words to tell her how I felt, about how I felt about her pushing me. NOTE: and now here's a clear case where preparation really helped, i.e., the 11 . 28 . 05 notes, when I asked H about where things stood between him and R after he proposed to her, i.e., he said: "I just feel that when the time is right, it'll come up on it's own, (getting angry) when the time's right, and a man just knows when the time is right You can't push a man into doing something before it's time!" I didn't decide that that's how Howard felt -- that's what he told me (and it completely revealed these two beats to me). Now -- that's not literally true that H "talked" to me, but Howard and I feel or respond the same way sometimes, (acting -- it's almost like character uses parts of me to do what they need to do, and I'm always very happy to lend those parts . . . I NEED to lend those parts). After R started crying, my compassion for her started coming back].

Rosemary.
  Please marry me Howard.
  [I've got to have time to figure out how to handle this...]

Howard.
  Well -- you got to give me time to think it over.

Rosemary.
  Oh God! Please marry me, Howard. Please (she sinks to her knees) Please . . . Please.
  [I've got to get her up and into bed ...]

Howard.
  Rosemary . . .. I . . . . I gotta have some time to think it over. You go to bed now and get some rest. I'll drive over in the morning and maybe we can talk it over before you go to school, I . . .

Rosemary.
  You're not just trying to get out of it, Howard?
  [Yes! . . . but I'm not just going to abandon her...]

Howard.
  I'll be over in the morning, honey.

Rosemary.
  Honest?
  [Yes -- about talking]

Howard.
  Yah. I gotta go to the courthouse anyway. We'll talk it over then.

Rosemary.
  Oh God, please marry me Howard. Please.
  [Ok, just get away now but let her now you're coming back]

Howard.
   Go to bed, honey. I'll see you in the morning.

Rosemary.
  Please Howard!

Howard.
  I'll see you in the morning, Good night Rosemary.

Rosemary.
  Please.

Howard.
  Good night, Rosemary. (Howard exits)

Rosemary.
   Please.

Ok, this is a tough part of the scene for me:

Question: So you asked Rosemary to marry you. Now you regret it, when you think about it, which isn't often . . . don't you want to get married?

        I don't know. I'm so old now. It seems like such a youthful -- foolish? -- thing to do. And I'm not unhappy, I'm really not. Sure, it's lonely, but you get used to that . . . even enjoy it sometimes. I have my store, my business, I'm settled, comfortable. Rosemary is . . . well, she's my friend. We're friends, really . . . we're not doing all that silly stuff that all the young people do, all the running around as if it's all the end, or the beginning, of the world.

Question: Ok, but you asked Rosemary. Now you haven't talked about it since, but . . . do you think she's just going to forget about it? You really can't see yourself married? Have you ever thought about it? What's been your thinking about all this since you asked her. Did you change your mind?

       I guess I just never really have thought about it, about what R really thought. I always assume she's as happy with things as I am. Me? Married? Look, I shouldn't have proposed. I'm happy and comfortable and I don't want to change, I don't feel like changing. Why should I change? I can't imagine it. I'm not sure how or what it means to be a husband, or how to do that. It's scary.

Question: What if Rosemary asks you about it. Have you thought about what you'd say, if you were really honest?

      I guess I would say what I've just said: It's too late now. I don't feel a need for it. I'm happy with the way things are . . . or at least I'm not unhappy, and that's comfortable . . . more comfortable then change.

<NOTE: Have I found enough motivation for Howard? Is it really just this? I do think it is this AND that that fact that Rosemary is pushing for an answer right now. From Rosemary's perspective, it looks like H doesn't love her, at least not enough, and I don't think Howard knows, at this moment.
    I think a lot of "common" wisdom would tell one to build up some huge trauma for H, creating serious reasons why he doesn't want to get married, but even if I did that, how would it really help me? If the above are H's reasons, I can definitely empathize/identify with those. And in this scene (which isn't about H's reasons) it's enough for R and the audience to know that he obviously does not want to move ahead, and this is VERY BAD given that Rosemary so painfully, desperately needs to be married NOW! I guess I'm making choices within or constrained by what makes the scene work and Rosemary's role in it. The scene is not a one-man show about a guy who's so traumatized that he can't get married, so I just haven't tried to create that . . . I'm hoping that was the right decision>.

Beat 4. This seems to be a "technical" beat for me -- there are certain things I want to happen, and I'll need to rehearse/practice them . . . at least we'll see how that works out. At the end of beat #3, I really need to have my attention fully on getting home -- that's what I'm doing, that I've been trying to do . . . and then Rosemary brings that action to a screeching halt.

Technical note 2: Rosemary is doing a lot of talking here -- I need to be listening, hearing what she's saying, and reacting to that -- with the goal of trying to comfort her and change her mind about how she's looking at things, to feel about things the way I do. So, even though R is doing all the talking, I'll be constructing counter-augments inside while R is talking. Both characters, I think, are being very honest about their feelings here . . .

Technical note 3: Howards gets cut off a few times -- know what he would say if she hadn't cut him off . . .

What I'm doing in this beat, however, is three things.

• I don't want to get married for reasons X, Y, and Z, and so I'm simply trying to tell Rosemary that: I'm telling her I changed my mind about wanting to get married, and
• I care for her so I'm 2) trying to comfort her and change her mind about how she's looking at things, to feel about things the way I do, i.e., it's not so bad. This is important because if I can succeed, then she will feel better, we won't be at odds, and I get what I want: I'm happy and comfortable
• the beat ends with more pressure from Rosemary, so again, I'm tying to get away

<NOTE: What I want -- leads to --> action -- leads to --> reaction, what really happens in the scene. What if I got a different reaction, i.e., what if I got what I wanted here in this beat? There's one consistent thing missing in the scene, and that's clear hopes & expectations. Improvising the scene where I get exactly what I want might be a good way to better imagine what I want...>

Howard.
  We'll talk it over Saturday.

Rosemary.
   We'll talk it over now.
   [Damn! Now what? I'm so tired, I've got to get out of here...]

Howard.
   Well -- honey -- I
   [Technical note: I really need to have my attention fully on getting home, and then R says . . . The trick (for me) is that the more attention I can put here, on getting home, then the more I'm taken by surprise, and that starts this whole beat off (for me) on the perfect foot]
   [12 . 12 . 2005 NOTE: NOT SPECIFIC ENOUGH! Specifics are everything! (So I'm thinking too much, and worse, it's all general: two basic annoying problems). Before the show, I set my watch to 12:30am. When I got to this part of the scene, I knew exactly what time I had to get up, 8am, to get to the courthouse, and I'm busy calculating how much sleep I'm going to get if I leave right now, and I'm going to tell her/show her how little time I have and -- bam! She hit's me with "you said you were gonna marry me..."]

Rosemary.
   You said you were gonna marry me, Howard. You said when I got back from my vacation, you'd be waitin' with the preacher.
    [this triggers a lie, trying to get out of it]

Howard.
  Honey, I've had an awful busy summer and . . . [I just didn't have time with everything, and ...]

Rosemary.
  Where's the preacher Howard? Where is he?
  [decide to simply tell her the truth. See the above preparation, the question: What if Rosemary asks you about it. Have you thought about what you'd say, if you were really honest?]
  [12 . 12 . 2005 NOTE: This transistion always felt awkward. It's easy to imagine him fumbling or building up courage to tell the truth, but ... just try to do 'that'. Instead, I got more specific, in a way, i.e., it really helped to continue, inside, to try to come up with another lie or excuse, try to think of something else . . . and then . . . just give up and decide to tell her the truth. Quite naturally, my shoulders and chest spontaneously relaxed -- trying to lie, trying to get out of it spontaneously got me a bit tense. Just doing these two things -- my body reacted as if I was really doing this, at least most of the time].

Howard.
  Rosemary, I'm 42 years old. A person forms certain ways of living, and then one day, it's too late to change.

<Technical note: Rosemary is going to be doing a lot of the talking . . . sketch in what each section might trigger while R is talking. If Howard reacts, and he does while she's talking, these are likely places]

Rosemary.
  Come back here Howard. I'm no spring chicken either. Maybe I'm a little older than you think I am.
  [H is thinking: did she lie? how old is she?]
  I've formed my ways too, but they can be changed. The gotta be changed.
  [H is thinking/feeling: I don't want to/feel like changing]
  It's no good livin' like this,in rented rooms, meeting a bunch of old maids for supper every night, then coming back home alone.
  [well, it's how you look at it. it's no bed of roses either, but what life is? And ... it's not so bad, really . . .]

Howard.
  I know how it is Rosemary. My life's no bed of roses either.
  [A line reading to myself: end this sentence on an up inflection rather than a down, if I can do it naturally. Given the goal of trying to comfort her while trying to change her mind about how she's looking at things, I'm hearing an implied "but" at the end. That should come out naturally if I'm really trying to do this -- we'll see]

Rosmary.
  Then why don't you do something about it?

Howard.
  I figure -- there's some bad things about every life.
  [another implied but at the end here, e.g., but it's not so bad really . . .]

Rosemary.
   There too much bad about mine.
   [she's really suffering]
   Each year, I keep telling myself, is the last. Something'll happen. Then nothing ever does . . . except I get a little crazier all the time.
   [Now H wants to say something, but he gets cut off after "well"]

Howard.
   Well ...[. . . honey, it's just how you look it at . . . we have very nice lives, each other . . .]

Rosemary.
   A well's a hole in the ground Howard. Be careful you don't fall in.
   [at this point, just reacting emotionally to whatever she's giving me, e.g., angry, sadness . . . I'm just trying to help...]

 Howard.
    I wasn't trying to be funny.

Rosemary.
   And all this time you just been leading me on.

 Howard.
    Rosemary, that's not so. I've not been trying to lead you on.

Rosemary.
   I'd like to know what else you call it.

 Howard.
    Well, can't we talk about this Saturday? I'm dead tired and I've got a busy week ahead, and . . . [I've got to get up early to drive back to the courthouse at 10 when it opens...]   

Question: You asked Rosemary to marry you!? When was this? What happened?

        Well, yeah, I guess I did. It was 4th of July. Great night. Thought Rosemary going to take to drinking more'n me! We were having a great time, and, you know, I wa