....there are a lot of actors who have never – who are quite successful in television and film – who have never been on stage before, and thats.... remarkable to me. ... In a sense, theyre missing out on the fundamental component of acting. And thats doing it for living people. Theres that connection that is so amazing, so visceral. ...You could almost say spiritual. ~ Actor Steven Weber, on the lure of theatre. ...Let them entertain us, the makers of strong images. Let us toss them copper pennies. But let us not forget, They make the images. We give them flesh. ~ Neil Gaiman ...................................... After watching Twelfth Night at the beautiful new Everyman Theatre at the weekend (well, half of it, as an unfortunately timed street-long power cut forced the play to end prematurely), I started musing again on the unique wonder of theatre, and dug out some notes, written after seeing the Royal Exchange Theatres astonishingly brilliant Doctor Faustus a few years ago. Firstly, on that auditorium-filled collective hush before the play begins: I love the rituals of theatre – the beautiful structure and un-spoken rules of it all. The lights went down and the audience quietened. *Hush* ... aside from the last scattered coughs or rustles, there was a reverential stillness around the pod. Everyone waiting. A sense of silent anticipation. ...The theatre needs us to believe – without an audience to listen and watch, what would the players be? Telling their stories only to the shadows and dust and silence. We have to be there, have to listen, have to help to bring them to life. No-one crosses the stage during a play – no-one reaches out to touch an actor, to speak to them, to break that invisible barrier. Out of respect? For fear of being told off by the staff, for being booed by the rest of the crowd? Or perhaps because, we *want* to believe, want to keep that area sacred, want to hear the story, and want to lose ourselves in their imaginary world. So there is the silence, the stillness. The audience gathers round the storytellers, find their places, settle in, and a hush descends as the darkness falls. Were waiting for the storyteller. Waiting for them to arrive, to take us by the hand and show us something extraordinary. In their presence we can enter into a world we never knew existed – and in which we find our own lives reflected. …....................... And, during a a couple of moments in the play, where actors moved to within inches of the stage edge, almost close enough to touch – or settled down, and took seats in the stalls amongst us, stepping out of the world of the play, briefly, and into ours: ...I was struck by how, in this amazing theatre, the veiled boundary between actor and audience had once again been made so gossamer-thin. To have the players performing within feet – within inches – of the audience – was not only vibrant and brave, but meant that the universe of the play sat so closely against our own – as if the two worlds were divided only by the lightest of fourth walls. Nothing was hidden, the fine details of every costume, every gesture and expression laid out for the audience to see at all times. It felt as if only the slightest push would dissolve that invisible veil, and the audience would enter into Faustus story completely. Theres nothing quite like it :)
Posted on: Wed, 19 Mar 2014 10:43:27 +0000
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