Learning Synthesis

Reading the Script

The first thing that I remember learning in The Page and the Stage – and the thing that has stuck with me for most of the semester – is that there are many ways to read a script. It can be read from the perspective of an actor, thinking about how they will perform the character they have been cast as. It can be read as something to be analysed and to write essays on. Or, it can be read critically, or as an audience member.

I admit that the first script that I read for this class, “Life Without Instruction,” I read as I would read something for pure entertainment. I didn’t think very much about anything except for the words on the page and how they formed a plot. And then I realised that I had to post two reflections on reading it. I remember looking at the notes that I had taken while reading – most of them notes that were clearly taken by an analytical English major – and thinking, “I know this can’t be what he wants.” So I went through the script again, this time trying to think of the different elements that, together, make up a play. The things that immediately came to mind were things like lighting, sets, and props – things that I remembered learning about in high school. That was a start.

After I posted my first reflection on the first half of “Life Without Instruction,” I made sure to think about the more technical details of how (I thought) the play was designed to be performed. Thinking about those things as I read, I found, helped me to better imagine the play in my mind’s eye, and I suppose I got a taste of how a director might read a script. From there on out I tried to do this more and more with each script that I read for the class, and I believe that – if I continue to do this – I will get a lot more out of simply reading a script for whatever reason than I would have before.

And then there is thinking about it from the point of view of an audience member. There are many levels to this perspective as well, many of which I reflected on when we worked on and discussed the Playgoer’s Companions in class. We talked a lot about what kind of information should be included in them and how that knowledge could affect somebody attending the play for the first time.

I found out that background information and previous knowledge can affect one’s perception of any given play. “Life Without Instruction” is probably my best example again, because it was the first play that we read and the first time that I had really thought about the subject. After having done some research on the play for the Companion that we created as a class and finding out that it was based on historical truth, I reread the script and had a whole new perception for the story. The first time through the dark comedy, I found the court scene to be humourous and absurd. But once I knew that some of it was based on fact and historically accurate, I felt much more disgusted reading through it.


The Experience

I mentioned that previous knowledge can affect one’s perception of the play, but I think that it is also true that a play can affect what a person thought that they knew about something. I discovered this when I read Peter Morgan’s “Frost / Nixon” and went to see it performed. I knew a fair amount about Richard Nixon and Watergate before reading the script, having taken several journalism and political science classes, and I had always been taught to dislike Nixon. Sometimes I wasn’t sure why. Reading and seeing that play made me question this further. The way Morgan presents Nixon in a sympathetic and almost grandfatherly way made me rethink what I knew about Nixon and wonder if he was really as bad a person as I’d always been told. Yes, I knew he did horrible things, but I had to wonder what Nixon the person was really like, and felt that I should read more about the man. Morgan succeeded in creating an internal conflict between hating the man for what he did, and feeling sympathy for Nixon the character. It was definitely the scenes with the shoes that got to me the most.

The night that we did the inkshedding exercise in class made me realise something else about how reading a play beforehand affects our experience of the production itself. By reading certain scripts beforehand, particularly the more difficult and complex ones, a person is generally able to focus more on the smaller details – the use of lighting, a minor character, or maybe even the humour – than they would have if they didn’t already know the story.

Knowing what is going on and not having to decipher it on the spot allows greater freedom to fully enjoy all of the thought that has been put into each individual production. My favourite example of this probably occurred when I went to see Beaux’ Stratagem down at Memorial Hall. Because I essentially knew what the characters in the main focus of the scene were doing (The French Count and Mrs Sullen, for example), I was able to take in the other things that were going on simultaneously (like Squire Sullen eavesdropping beside the stage, and his reactions to the other characters).


Preconceived Notions

Epiphanies are beautiful things. Fortunately for me, I had one one week long ago when the Task Force for “Gut Girls” was presenting their Wiki to the class. The team mentioned repeatedly that the author of the play was usually labelled as a lesbian feminist in most of her biographies. I think it was the night that the Editorial Team for this play presented their draft of the playgoer’s companion that Russ asked whether or not the fact that she was a lesbian and a feminist really has anything to do with the play. Somebody suggested that it was important to know to understand ‘this type of play.’ I had to asked myself: What ‘type’ of play?

This was when I began to wonder whether we are doing our audience a disservice by giving them a Playgoer’s Companion, and influencing them to view a play OUR way. I realise that not everyone will read everything in the Companion, and that we are not giving them what we think of the play because we’ve gathered the information elsewhere. But the fact is that some people will read the Companion, and the information that we present to them may not be directly from our mouths, but it came from somewhere, and who is to say that that person’s interpretation is better than somebody else’s? We are influencing one interpretation, and essentially advertising it as better than another.

In this way and through this train of thought, I learnt that there is really no way of presenting somebody with a particular idea relevant to what they will soon be experiencing for themselves without affecting how they will view it in some way. We all have a bias, it’s just a matter of how clearly that shows. The only person who really knows how a piece should be perceived and performed is the playwright, and they rarely spill their secrets.

I guess what I’m trying to sum up is that, previous knowledge of a playwright can also alter how the play is perceived, much the same way as history of the characters can, and that that might not necessarily be a good thing. Telling the audience is Sarah Daniels may be both a lesbian and a feminist might lead them to read into her play in such a way that they see it as some kind of creative vehicle for the women’s rights movement, when that isn’t what she had intended at all. Knowing that Martin McDonagh is infamous for his dark Irish comedies might lead an audience to expect that every play of his will be the same, and someday they will either be very shocked or disappointed. Information and knowledge are dangerous tools.


Choices

Just a brief anecdote to expand on my previous points that there can be many different interpretations of the same play.

When I read through the script for “Life Without Instruction,” I imagined Artemisia’s character to be a young, but somewhat mature woman, even though she still liked to play roleplaying games with her nurse. When I went to see the play though, it quickly became clear that the actress playing Artemisia had interpreted her character very differently. She chose to play her off more as what I thought seemed like a spoiled child.

It was a similar situation for the character of Lisa. I had imagined her to be a character with a sort of dry, sarcastic humour, and even though she liked her men, intelligent. In the play though, she seemed to be nothing more than bitter and hostile, growling her way through every line.

It’s shocking to realise that the picture you’ve painted of something in your head isn’t widely shared by the rest of the world, but I guess it would be creepy if it were.


Technical Details

Not only did I learn to think about how factors like the lighting and sound effects can create atmosphere in a play while reading the script, I also began notice these things when I was actually in the theatre watching the play. Before this class I tended to think about a production of any given play as a complex whole, one step leading to another. Now though, I have begun to see that theatre is a wonderful chaotic mess of bits and pieces that, when combined, create the illusion of being whole.

I have learnt that a director’s choice of background music can take away or distract from the production, as was the case with the crazy 70/80s music that they chose to include in “Frost / Nixon.” The soundtrack really just did not suit the overall atmosphere of the story, and I found it to be more of a distraction there than anything. But a careful music choice could add to the overall feel of the play, too, as I saw in “Here Lies Henry,” when they played “What is Love” for Henry’s dance ‘sequences.’

Lighting, too, can be both good or bad depending on how it is set up. An example of what I think was really effective lighting was in “Life Without Instruction,” when they used different lighting to set the biblical scenes apart from the regular scenes. On the more ineffective side would be in “The Cripple of Inishman,” during the scene when they were supposed to be watching the “Man of Aran” film in the church hall. They turned the lights way up in what I think was an effort to make the audience feel included in the scene, but I found that the lighting change just made it awkward and uncomfortable.


Playgoer’s Companions

The last subject that I would like to touch on are the Playgoer’s Companions that we made. I know I mentioned them earlier, but this time I want to focus on the Companions themselves, and not necessarily their effects on other people. You wouldn’t think it to see the little things, but a lot goes into making one of those pamphlets. That’s something else that I had never thought about going into theatre: the extras outside of the production.

First, there is the research aspect, when we look into the background of the play, and try to determine what we think might be interesting or helpful to know about the play. There is a lot of information about a lot of things out there, and although I’ve done plenty of research for essays before and knew how hard it can be to sift through sometimes, it’s another thing entirely when you’re trying to find information to arm an audience with before they head into a theatrical experience. Researching this way, you think about things besides giving a complete background and analysis of a piece of work. You learn to think about the context of them – such as in the case of “The Gut Girls” and the society and women’s oppression during the time period in which it is set – and what kind of background information might help an audience to understand that.

I always tried to think of little extra things that might have been nice to add in, in cases when the author or historical context might not really matter all that much. Last year I attended “The Importance of Being Ernest,” and they had included a recipe for cucumber sandwiches on the back of one of the pamphlets, which I thought was rather clever.

Anyway. We talked a lot in class about what should be included, what shouldn’t, and what could be used as filler. Not that we needed any, of course. But through trial and error and lots of in class discussion about how some plays are harder to understand (“Beaux’ Stratagem”) than others (“This is a Play”), and how some need a little bit more background to know what is going on (“Frost / Nixon), while others can be enjoyed one way or another (“Life Without Instruction”), I think we all came to agree that knowledge is indeed power, and holds power of its own over our experiences. I also think that, from now on, I will appreciate the programmes that are handed out at certain plays and musicals more than I ever have before, and realise that they aren’t just pretty pictures that somebody slapped together.

Reading Into It.

I don't know if we actually are supposed to do a learning blog post this week, but I figured that I might as well while I was thinking about it.

All that I can really say that I thought very deeply about was an extension of what I wrote about last week. When I read "Here Lies Henry" and "This is a Play," I found it really hard not to read into the scripts and analyse them as I would if I were writing some sort of essay on it. It wasn't until that moment that I realised quite how different the readings could be: Reading from an English Major perspective, and reading as an audience, or writing to produce a play.

I found that when I went to write my reflection on reading them, "Here Lies Henry" in particular, it was difficult to restrain myself from turning it into an essay, or an analytical paper as I've already mentioned.

Other than that...I have a lot of thoughts about how plays that are completely character-driven like that one vary from the more plot or device driven ones, but I don't think that that really relates to what I'm supposed to be writing about here, so I'll tuck it away for now.

This is a pretty short learning journal, but in all fairness, we didn't have a class this week.

Happy be-lated Easter.

You Shouldn't Assume.

I guess I didn't learn all that much directly from class this week. I have started to think a bit more about something that was discussed a couple of weeks ago: How the author of Gut Girls is usually labelled a lesbian feminist in her bios, and whether or not that really has anything to do with her plays -- whether her plays can be seen as a comment on feminism on their own, or whether they become that by association.

I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I probably should have written everything down as I was thinking it beause I don't remember the half of it now, but here goes.

I have been wondering if what we do by presenting an audience with information like that beforehand is really a disservice: Whether we are influencing one interpretation of something over another, and -- if so -- if we have the right to do that. Or maybe the play is really just what we have perceived it as, that's the way it is, and nothing else. I'd like to think that we are unbiased and serve only to enhance the experience and not influence it. I don't think that that is the case, though. While this is a goal we may strive for, I don't think that it is entirely possible to present somebody with a particular idea relevant to what they will be seeing/hearing/reading without affecting how they will perceive it.

I'm not being very clear here, I know. So let me try to explain through the use of the infamous Example. Let us say that your friend was about to embark on the epic adventure of reading through the copious amount of pages that is Lord of the Rings, and you tell them before they begin that you had a hard time getting through it because of the long descriptions that go on for pages. This may be a detail that they might not have been inclined to notice intially; but, after having had it pointed out to them, it is something that they will be unable to get through the novel without beng constantly aware of because iit has been pointed out to them. The elephant in the room, if you will.

Maybe that isn't the best example. Let me try another: Say you saw a certain play before a friend, mentioned to them that, though the actor was very good, they had a particular quality about them that was peculiar (say, small ankles or a strange accent), and when the aforementioned friend attended the next performance of the play, they were able to focus only on said particular quality.

ANYWAY.

These musing brought me to another train of thought: Do authors/writers/directors/composers/etcetc really intend to create multiple layers of symbolism and possible interpretations in their works for us to sift through...or are they merely accidents and the results of searching for something to support our own opinions?

I am an English major, and something that I have been noticing as I continue through my years of education is that, no matter how many times you cover one piece of literature, each teacher or professor will bring something new to influence your interpretation. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing. Just curious.

Technology, the Unreliable.

My most exciting news of the week is that my adapter cable thingy that keeps my laptop alive died, taking with it the battery and my access to all things computery. What I've learnt from this ordeal is quite simple: Completing homework and activities for The Page and the Stage is quite difficult with limited access to the internet.

I did what I could, though. And now I am going to move on....after I make a note for further reference when it comes time to write my final paper: dependability.

This week in class we did some more presentations of plays and research we've done for them, followed by a discussion of each presentation. From this I learnt that sometimes, no matter how many people you have working on the play, they still will probably not be able to cover all of the informatical (yeah, I know it's not a word) bases that ought to be covered to please everyone's thirst for knowledge. For example, none of us thought to do any research on TB, which probably would have been smart.

Moral of the story: To remember that sometimes it is the little details that might mean the most.

I Like Those Shoes...

Well, tomorrow night -- or maybe it would be more accurate to say this evening, considering the time -- I will be attending "Frost / Nixon" at the Imperial Theatre in Saint John. I'm actually looking forward to seeing this, just because I've always found the whole Watergate thing to be pretty interesting. Hopefully my reflection will be posted soon after, and I won't forget anything too important in the meantime.

I guess that this will be a pretty short blog entry, and slightly more informal than normal as well.

This week in class we listened to a Task Force present their findings on "The Cripple of Inishmaan" -- which I am very much looking forward to -- and an Editorial Team present their Playgoer's Companion for "Frost / Nixon." Exciting stuff. What I learnt was a lot of background on "The Cripple," and not a whole lot else, besides the continuation of what I call the "Thinking like an audience" and "Thinking critically" processes.

Currently, I am waiting for the Task Force to hopefully finish fine-tuning the information they have posted on their Wiki so that the Editorial Team I'm on can take over. Hoping to get that done and over with as soon as possible.

Good night, and good luck.

Please Stand Back From The Yellow Line

I despise presenting things. Loathe. Abhor. Detest. Is that enough? Because I can keep going. I’ve been told numerous times that more people fear public speaking more than death. I can almost see why.

This week’s class involved presenting things, namely our Wiki on Frost/Nixon. Not overly enjoyable. I think that it went smoothly for the most part, and we had a decent conversation going on about the information.

The Task Force for Gut Girls presented their findings, as well, and I greatly preferred listening to their presentation than doing my own. But that is beside the point.

The point is that, with these presentations, we are still exploring the world of theatre in ways that most of us aren’t used to. And the more we have been talking about the transference of the script to the stage, the more I have begun to think about the smaller details of the script: the role of blocking, use of sets, the reason that the playwright chose the wording that s/he did for the dialogue.

I’ve always thought that putting a play together would be kind of chaotic, with only the script and the dialogue. Now I’m beginning to see that it’s really more like trying to put together a decently sized puzzle. You have the corner and border pieces to start with (the stage directions and dialogue) and then there are all of the middle pieces that hint at the larger picture (lighting, positioning, personal interpretation, etc). Staging a play doesn’t just start on the page, it takes root, too, in the imagination.

I’m seeing proof of this in the way I have begun to read scripts lately: considering the pieces carefully, and seeing my own take on the story playing like a film reel in my mind. And I know that we aren't supposed to use personal experiences to illustrate our points when it comes to the learning synthesis, at least I don't think we are, but the only time I can recall this happening to me to the same extent in the past would be in my Theatre Arts class in high school. As a final project we had to produce a short play with a small group of people. my group chose a 3-hander, Canon in D Minor, I think was the title. I remember becoming frustrated when it came time to start putting it together, because my group members hadn't thought too much about the dynamics of it, but I had a pretty clear picture of what I thought would be effective already mapped out.

But anyway.

This is a shorter blog post than my more recent ones, but it has given me a lot to think about and work with, and I have to say that I’m having a hard time putting words to my thoughts right now, so I may come back to this one later.

Halfway There

With the option to write either a journal entry or a mid-term learning synthesis this week, I find myself thinking about concrete learning and what has gone on thus far in the semester. I can say for certain that I’ve learnt – or think I’ve learnt – a good number of things in The Page and the Stage already, but reading the evaluation of how Learning Synthesis’ will be marked has left me questioning how much of it is what I was supposed to learn.

I’ve been learning to think more critically about how it is that a play will be transferred, literally, from the page to the stage. I’ve been learning to ask questions about the characters, the sets and lightning….even the background of the plays I read.

I’ve been asked to think about how previous knowledge on a subject may influence my reaction to any particular play, and by considering which knowledge it is important to know or share beforehand, I’ve also been led to question how a play can sometimes influence what knowledge we’ve previously had.

This epiphany did not come simply from sitting around idly and thinking. I witnessed the effect firsthand when we researched the history of the story presented in Sally Clark’s play, Life Without Instruction. Because of the research done beforehand for the Playgoer’s Companion, I knew that Artemisia and many of the other characters were relatively historically accurate. That gave me more respect for her character and her situation when I finally saw the play. The reverse was true in my perception of Artemisia’s character. From reading about her history, I had an image of a serious young woman, who seemed to be able to handle herself. This was not the impression I got after rereading the play. I came to view her as childish and not at all in control of her own life.

I chose not to do a Mid-term learning synthesis and just a blog post this week, because I think that the other will require much more time for consideration than I can give right now, and perhaps even more time for discussion with fellow classmates. I would prefer to go through all of the prompts again, and to reconsider what I’ve learnt and which bits of it are relevant before even attempting to write the leaning synthesis.