Each June SITI Company hosts a four-week training program in Saratoga Springs, New York on the beautiful campus of Skidmore College. This summer marks our seventeenth year in residence. During the month we attempt to share not only the training, but also an approach to collaborative creation that we practice as an ensemble. I offer a class entitled Composition in which groups of participants are assigned the task of making work for the stage in a collaborative spirit. Inevitably the attempt to co-create brings the groups into shaky territory. Collaboration is notoriously tricky. Many respected theater artists insist that true collaboration is impossible. I remember hearing a radio interview with director Richard Foreman who was, at the time, in the midst of rehearsals for a production with writer Kathy Acker and visual artist David Salle. Asked about the collaboration he exclaimed "Collaboration? This is not a collaboration, this is a collision!"
The trouble is generally ego. When a dramaturg proposes a directorial idea or an actor proposes a design idea or a stage manager proposes an actor idea, egos get ruffled. We all know the feeling. "Hey, that's my territory! I'm the one who is supposed to be paying attention to that. Get out of my territory!"
An actor spends his or her entire life training to meet the crisis of an audience. The playwright faces the predicament of the blank page and then forges into battle to make something out of nothing. I have spent my entire life fascinated by the issues that confront a director in rehearsal. But this does not mean that during the creative process of putting a production together the roles cannot be fluid. I do not have to identify with my role so inflexibly that I cannot step out of the director shoes and allow another person to step into them and look at the play from the director's point of view. In fact, this stepping away on my part while, say, the sound designer steps in, can be very useful for our shared process. We can show one another aspects of the production that have been overlooked.
A directorial view of the play does in fact exist and others can look at the play through that lens. A director's lens is necessarily different than, say, an actor's lens. The playwright's view is different too, and should remain so. The playwright looks at the production from a very particular posture and expertise. So does the dramaturg who brings a very distinct distance and objectivity. All of these lenses are necessary in the realization of a play and in a true collaboration.
To assist in the general predicament of collaboration during the heat of rehearsal, perhaps it is helpful to imagine that there is no such person as a director, no such person as a dramaturg, no such person as an actor, playwright or designer. Perhaps rather than specific people, we can think of these jobs as windows through which one can look at the shared effort. In thinking this way we may be less threatened by the contributions of others. I also like to think of shoes. Imagine that a pair of shoes stands at the base of each window. For a moment anyone can step into or out of a different pair of shoes to look at the play through that specific point of view of that window.
While it is true that the director is the person who makes the final decisions about how the play is put together, this aspect of control and power can be negotiated in various ways. The Taoists teach, "Be round on the outside and square on the inside." Be visibly generous, respectful and civil but, at the same time, know exactly what you think. You cannot be strong on the outside and strong on the inside at the same time. Imagine a flagpole wrapped in cotton. One needs a strong core and a supple and flexible exterior. If one is exteriorly muscular and steely, there is no chance for muscularity on the inside at the same time. You have to choose. A director who spends most of her time controlling the room in superficial ways, a director who is territorial and inflexible cannot be strong on the inside at the same time. You have to let certain things on the outside be and adjust to the vicissitudes of the moment. You have to let collaborators feel the freedom to breathe and roam around a bit in order to contribute more and also give themselves a break from the relentless point of view of their own discipline. This means that a director should not control the exterior circumstances so much. Not to micro-manage because if you are micromanaging you are missing the truly important and much more mysterious, vast and interesting issues that are indeed present.
I have spent most of my life interested in the issues of directing. I have studied and continue to study the art of directing. It interests me. But I am not threatened if someone else looks through my window in a rehearsal. At times I need to move away and perhaps look through the dramaturg window or the designers' window or the actor's window. Might this also be considered empathy? Isn't empathy what we are developing in the art of the theater? Can we practice empathy together in the process of collaboration?
Comments
Robbie says:
We are so obsessed with hierarchy. We place intellect over emotion, 'work' over 'play', knowledge over imagination and parliament over knitting circles and of course 'leaders' of some sort over everyone. But leadership just a role, one that is utterly pointless without anything to lead. I like Douglas Adams' imaginary civilisation that expelled all the 'useless' people (hairdressers, middle management, public phone cleaners) from their planet only to be wiped out by a public phone transmitted disease.
July 1, 2009 at 10:02 PM | Permalink
Leah says:
"Round on the outside and square on the inside..." Yes! Ann, the way you discuss art-making and life-making speaks to me. You are one brave woman. Thank you for sharing your thoughts in this format.
July 2, 2009 at 9:09 AM | Permalink
Amber says:
I really appreciate Anne's perspective on this. For some reason a lot of people doing theatre work like a business group with a hierarchical format rather than a collaborative team all working towards the same goal. In my experience I have found that people who tend to be afraid of a collaborative approach are usually the ones who are the most insecure- We work hard to get others to acknowledge our strengths and validity as artists and letting go of that by asking for or implementing someone else's opinion can make us feel weak or insufficient. But we have to move away from that form of thinking. Inspired by Anne's approach in The Viewpoints Book, I always try to ask my actors after a rehearsal run, "How did you think it went?" and often they see and feel a lot of things I had taken down in my directorial notes. By allowing the team to problem-solve together and invest in the project on equal levels, the solutions they find are even more fulfilling for them. Empathy and collaboration are always the best way.
July 2, 2009 at 11:51 AM | Permalink
Tessa says:
what i find really interesting is navigating through this hierachy when working on a solo show. how do you collaborate with yourself?
In this context I find working in different shoes or different hats is always in my mind and the challenge is the ability to take off certain shoes. For example when I am working on a scene I have to concentrate on turning off the directors voice to allow the actor to play, then i have to review the work from the directors view, then i return to my research (dramaturg) to once again inspire the actor....phew...
Collaborations happen constantly, if it's a conversation i am having with a friend about the show or something unrelated, the collaboration can happen at any moment, i love it. holding on too tightly to the concept that it's 'my idea' then just restricts the work and your development as an artist.
theatre and indeed creativity in general is a fluid activity and the ability to find joy and inspiration in the constant changing of these 'roles' is key I think.
July 6, 2009 at 10:59 PM | Permalink
Melina says:
thank you, Anne. thank you for this. What a hothouse Composition is, in the middle of the marathon we've come to now as the SITI intensive! How I miss it...
July 7, 2009 at 2:08 AM | Permalink
Susanna says:
Can we practice empathy together in the process of collaboration? I remember attending a workshop by a wonderful person; Joe Schaeffer.....he called the workshop The Stone Game. It was about meaningful communication. The game itself is a profound story....but the essence of the experience was that when communicating with each other, 'becoming familiar' is of greater merit than 'understanding.' That may sound rather rude......but thinking about it......if I say "I understand you"....I am making a lot of assumptions.....but if I say "I will attempt to become familiar with you"......I have left a lot of room for you and me to connect......somehow I think this has something to do with empathy in theatrical collaboration. I think I must attempt to become familiar with the many prismatic angles of fellow artists (actors, dramaturgs,etc) and not shut the door with any assumed ' I understand'.......somehow I think this leaves a common space where we can meet and share. Empathy. Susanna Uchatius
July 9, 2009 at 12:29 AM | Permalink
matt says:
yes... if someone tries to step into another's shoes, they tread on people's toes. I often wondered if in Waiting for Godot, when Gogo (it is Gogo isn't it?) finds the new shoes... well of course they are his own shoes, but he thinks they are new shoes, or used shoes... are they the shoes of his former, now dead self? are they the shoes of another aspect of himself, another possibility? It seems these new shoes fit him better... but I wonder if in the third (!) act they won't start to hurt again. A further convolution of the image, and following Tessa's comments, is that... we should all be able to wear whatever goddamn shoes we want - so long as they are available and they don't cost too much.
Enough about shoes. These are great thoughts. Theatre is some kind of collaborative sculpture that never sets; so yes, you're right Anne, we need to get the ego right out of the room and avail ourselves of the eyes of all the collaborators.
Then again... hell, we need single-minded directors with vision don't we?
July 22, 2009 at 2:52 AM | Permalink