Friday, September 23, 2011

O’Neill and the “Big” Problem.

Older, not bigger, is better. 

This is because the more mature the artist the more economy there is in expression. Direct energy outward seems to be the default stance of inexperienced actors performing O’Neill’s plays. But power and tension are different things and power takes on new meaning as we progress. As we mature we grow to prefer subtlety to the overwrought acting that once captivated us. 

Less is obviously more, so why do we still push? Perhaps it is because we are still seeking the kind of approval we first received from people who didn’t know what they were applauding.

A more important question is what does it cost us to continue to overplay? By my estimation, the cost of pushing is a loss of flexibility in the short term and the eventual erosion of natural talent.

The reason for this may be that pushing is usually accompanied by a constriction of the breath, which, in turn, triggers a panic reflex. Such is our natural response when we feel deprived of oxygen, even if we are the ones depriving ourselves of it.

As fear accumulates, rather than let the panic sink us the actor numbs himself to it. The result is a loss of interpretive ability. Instead of acting he/she is merely managing fear and the performance becomes “big” by default. 

Performance stress is the main occupational hazard of the acting profession, and the higher stakes the higher the risk of panic.

Actors know the importance of physical relaxation, but often do not always address the role of the breath in it. In this context, the job of the breath to deliver oxygen to the nervous system and keep it balanced. The “flinch” reflex relaxes once the natural breath flow is restored.

But when the actor is locked up, the he/she grows progressively tighter and the result is usually a speeding up of the text. In an effort to unlock, they overplay.

That is why the first step toward reconnecting is for the actor to slow down and allow a steady breath flow to return. As it does, emotional connection is gradually revived.     

That is the easy part. Navigating the accumulated fear is trickier as the temptation to tighten returns again and again. In The O’Neill Studio we address this through song.

Singing engages the breath in a way that accelerates the reconnection process. Even though the emotion that is released may be of an unpleasant nature, the release of it is usually a pleasurable one when the actors sing simple songs with which they have an emotional connection. The goal here is not good vocalism, but a steadying of the breath and a free flow of feeling.

Free of the old restrictive masochism, the actor becomes progressively freer. As he/she does,in our Studio they work to sustain this emotional flow through a series of three monologues.

Throughout the process, our actors work on a contemporary monologue to establishing flow, a classical monologue to accommodate the demands of style and gravity and then finally an O’Neill monologue which usually requires both lyricism and weight. 

As actors work through the twelve-week/three monologue process, they become comfortable in their skin again. As a result a simple breath is eventually needed for all that is required for connection.

With the new freedom, new colors constantly bleed into the work and the monologue evolves into a series of “found,” reliable beats as the actor surrenders to their imagination, which is revived in the process. Then the possibilities, once limited, seem endless. 

By the conclusion of the process rather than “locking down” the actor “drops in” into emotion and rides the emotional stream that comes from the breath. Once inner life has accumulated on a piece, it can be done “big” for the stage or “small” for the screen.

The aforementioned process is called The Independent Artist Track, because through it the actor also learns to work more effectively on his or her own. And most importantly, the actor will more easily incorporate whatever adjustments are required of them by a director because the actor is always working from a free place.

Flexibility allows for all options. Tightening precludes all of them. When you are playing big by default, rather than by choice, big is all you can play. Big is good, but older is better and flexibility keeps your gifts fresh and powerful throughout your artistic life.

Marian Seldes, a key mentor of our project, (who received a lifetime Tony Award in 2010) had the following to say about breath in one of our sessions at The Players Club:

“I fill the vase and I empty it.”