“I can see
things, or I can try to control how things see me. I cannot do both at the same
time.” - Declan Donnellan, The Actor and the Target.
Most of my masters are theatre artists:
actors, directors and designers. Many I
know personally. Many I know only through their words. All are students of
human behavior, dedicated to honesty on the stage, believing that if they play
truthfully, for a moment we—their audience—will transcend our little life
stories and experience our selves within a greater universal story; we will
release control and come fully alive. We will “see.”
Seeing is not as easy as it might seem. Visual artists train for
years to see what is there, not what they think
is there. Seeing requires a return to the time before you had words, concepts, and
definitions for every thing. You’d be amazed at how many colors there are in a
“yellow” #2 pencil when you look past the idea of “yellow pencil” and actually
see the shapes, shadows, and light.
Sometimes I set a chair in front
of my students and ask them what it is. “A chair!” they cry with indignation,
certain I am wasting their time and afraid I will publicly embarrass them. They
have stopped seeing. They think I am asking a trick question (and I am); I have
ceased playing the game of “correct and incorrect” answers—and that can be
dangerous.
I ask, “What could this be in the eyes of a three year old?” The
ideas tumble forth: “A Castle!” “A tunnel!” “A hat!” “A boat!” “A monster!” They
laugh and giggle as each new possibility is offered. They can’t help playing
with the chair, demonstrating each new discovery. They are engaged, a sure sign
that they are seeing.
Creativity is not the domain of The New; it stands firmly in the
land of unimpeded expression where you “see what is there, not what you think
should be there.” Remove the limits. Follow the impulse. There is no trick to
re-inhabiting your innate creativity. You simply have to see again. It takes
work when you are no longer three years old–we’ve all been subjected to the
most rigorous dullness training—but it is worth the effort (even the most
dismal cubicle has possibilities when you show up unfettered).
Of course, there is a flip side to every coin. If you can’t see
the multitude of color and possibilities in a simple yellow #2 pencil it’s a
good bet that you also can’t see the rich complexity of the human
beings who
are sharing the planet with you. I was recently on a small boat in Alaska that came
across a pod of whales. Our excitement was palpable as the whales stayed with
us for several minutes. We ooohed and aaahed and applauded. We were in awe of
them, their world so foreign that we could not take them for granted. I was
overwhelmed with the realization that my fellow passengers and I could not
extend to each other the same specificity of seeing that we granted the whales.
We don’t see each other. In workshops, Patti and I often do an exercise in
which people are gently led into the experience of simply being present with
one another. They see and allow themselves to be seen. It is difficult,
frightening, sometimes impossible, but always awe-some when achieved.
Theatre artists know this. Like visual artists they work hard at
seeing—which helps them learn how to be seen. They learn how to be present and,
therefore, available with each other (this is what is meant by playing
truthfully). Magically, if actors are present with each other on the stage, the
audience, as a single body, will become present and available, too. Everyone
involved will forget about themselves and look out to the other. They see. They
reach. They join. If the actors are dishonest, pretending, then the audience
will remain a gathering of individuals that might be entertained but will never
be transformed.
“Change does happen to
us, but we change when we see things more as they are. It is to do with a
change in direction. When we see things for what they are, we become realigned
automatically. Change, transformation, metamorphosis are out of our control.” -Declan
Donnellan, The Actor and the Target
The rules that apply on the
stage also apply off the stage. If change is what you seek, availability and
seeing are good places to start. Two rules for the stage: 1) “You can never change
how another person sees you”; and 2) “Act on what comes to you, not what you
think should come to you.” In other words, let
go of control. Relinquish you
dullness training. Engage. You never know what you might see.
-David Robinson
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