The Power of Stillness

I met with Ken Sonkin, the director for Humble Boy this past week to discuss the play. At the end of the first scene, Jim (the Gardener) comes on to the stage. Ken and I disagreed about whether this was the first time I had seen him since returning home. Ken thought it was, which is a naturally more dramatic choice to make. I thought it was the second time, based on a few lines and that I didn't seem to have a big reacton to seeing him. I felt that if this was the first time, I might act a little surpised or say something about it to another character who is on stage. I didn't understand why Felix was so still.

I thought about this for awhile, imagining what a first encounter might be really like. As I did this, I found myself paralyzed upong seeing Jim. I understood why Felix is so still in the scene. Although I'm not sure it is the first time that I see him, I now understand the power of the encounter and why Felix doesn't have a bigger reaction. He is so shocked to see Jim that he is paralyzed - which is a very big reaction, but very still.

This little investigation was an important guide for me. My first instinct was to do something dramatic, to show the character's reaction. But when I began to really get into the psychology, I found something much more real. I didn't need to show anything, just receive the depth of the experience. This is how I want to work on the show. No need to show the audience. Trust myself in staying centered, working through the thoughts of the character and the audience will understand what's going on.

And now I understand the power of Simon Russell Beale - who originated the part of Felix. When I first went to London in 1994, I saw him play Ariel in The Tempest on the Baribican at the RSC, directed by Sam Mendes. At the time, I didn't understand why Ariel just stood there, not flying around like most spirits I had seen. Twelve years later, that is the only thing I remember from the entire production - Simon Russell Beale, just standing. Total presence. The power of stillness.

Humbled

Well, I was cast in Humble Boy as Felix Humble at Ross Valley Players. I had wanted to do this role ever since I saw the season announcement for the theatre, but I 've been talking myself out of it ever since. Was it fear? Fear of failure? Of success? Fear of contacting some truth about myself?

After I was told by the director that I got the part, I found my self in a very odd state. I wasn't excited about the opportunity, but overwhelmed. I felt a sense of confirmation about my ability as an actor, the enormous work it will take to play this part, and a sense of gratitude that no matter how hard I tried to get out of it, my soul got what it wanted.

I wanted this part because I knew it would push me into new territory. I can not perform this part the way I used to. The only way to work on it is to follow the truth that it unfolds in me. I am not thinking about how "I" will play the party, but how the part will reveal itself to me. How much truth can I find? How much truth can I handle? The part is great, and I am humbled by it.

A Touch of Truth

I started educating myself about theatre in high school, when I started buying plays in used books stores and reading them voraciously. I also had a season subscription at the Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park, where I was exposed to great contemporary plays such as Equus, American Buffalo and Cloud Nine. Since then, I have seen hundreds of live theatre shows. But only a handful of them have stuck with me. These are the plays that have affected me deeply, often reinstilling my faith and commitment in the pursuit of truth in the theatre.

I was in NYC for New Year's to catch some good theatre. I saw Albee's Seascape and Abigail's Party, both very good shows. But the performance that burned into my retina was Gabriel Byrne as Major Melody in O'Neil's A Touch of the Poet. My heart was torn open as I saw the pain of having too much pride. And I saw myself, my father and my grandfather. His performance touched greatness. I'm not sure if I can articulate exactly why, only to say that there was a stillness and presence that he transmitted from the stage to the audience from within the reality of his chracter. This is the level that I seek to attain in my own acting. At the every end, during the bow, all the masks of his character were stripped away and he stood with that clear and open presence - just himself.

As for my own pursuits. I have several performance projects that have arisen which seem more pressing than playing "Felix" in Humble Boy. I've been thinking that I shouldn't go to call backs. Yet, since seeing Gabriel Byrne, there's this little thing telling me, you can do that role, you can reach your own level of truth by exploring it. I feel I must make a decision, which is never a good feeling. Decisions are of the mind, the real choice reveals itself with strength and clarity in the body.