My scene partner, Katrina, and I did the first table reading of our current scene tonight at class.
It's from a play by Cindy Lou Johnson called Brilliant Traces. Here are some reviews.
It's about two people who find each other, literally and figuratively, in the wilderness. It's incredible, and is bringing up some serious personal issues for me around children's safety, the safety of isolation and what relationships need to survive. And my scene partner is an actor who is smart, funny, charming and very focused. We had a great reading at my house, and it's carried over into class.
So we're doing our first table reading. Laura, my instructor, is talking to me about my character, Harry.
And I can't stop saying "He is..." and "He would..." when I discuss with her how I think Harry would play a moment.
Bad form for a Method actor. It's all about "I". "I am..." And "I would..."
Five times I say "He...", completely involuntarily. And five times Laura says, very calmly, "There is no he."
It was great work on stage, and yet I can't get past this aerial view of the character. And I'm kicking myself inside for being serially stupid.
So Laura takes me aside after class, and says "You weren't really concerned about the I/He thing, were you? It will take a bit of time to get used to it. Don't let it worry you. Just notice it, and choose to change it."
When it comes to this, that's pretty much all I do - worry. In a good way, of course.
And then the good news. I'm doing great. She's telling me that the work I've done so far is brilliant. And she wants me to do an extra scene with one of the other actors, Amie, who has no partner since her partner got booked for a kid's show for the summer and had to drop out of class.
"I was..." ecstatic. I am so loving this new chapter in my life.
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