Scenario

Scene one: timid side-liner steps into the center of the box. Someone comes up to her, asking if she’d like to be a part of an improvised performance. Startled out of her insecurities around improvisation, her general skepticism about anything she hasn’t had to work brutally hard for, and her overarching commitment-phobia, she accepts.

Scene two: protagonist attends yoga class focused on forward bends. the truism “move forward by letting go of what is behind you” is slightly over-used by the instructor, but the class is rewarding. 

Scene three: protagonist babysits a very unruly child; questions whether she will ever allow herself to have children, or if she should just make a pact with herself now to stay strong 15 years down the road when the baby-crazy hormones kick in. 

Scene four: first rehearsal of The Improv Show. Terrifying. huge hurdles, challenges larger than ever imagined. 

Scene five: protagonist is reunited with director who wanted to use her years ago; director offers lead role in short film that would directly conflict with improv performance days.

Scene six: protagonist has conversation with friend: “should I stick with this improv thing? no i don’t like babysitting. i think i’m quitting yoga. might do a film.”

Scene seven: director of show tells protagonist and co that more people have become unavailable for the ensemble— there is no longer any way protagonist will hide in this project. serious request delivered by director: stay or go, now. protagonist weights film vs improv, decides to try to go for both. 

Scene eight: protagonist reads email response from director: “as much as we would love to use you in this project, the shoot dates are set and unfortunately your performance conflicts would not be honored. we’ll keep you in mind for future films!”

Scene nine: babysitting,  protagonist is hit with a realization from her improv work. her hand becomes a puppet and the child is enraptured; what seemed the impossible task of keeping a 6 year old entertained for 10 hours straight becomes simple. she realizes herself to be in a state of flow.

Scene ten: opening night of the improv show. the ensemble is in love with its show and, as such, tries to woo the theater gods to its side with a series of human-performance god mating dances (also known as warm-ups). protagonist is TERRIFIED but steadfast in commitment to the project. 

Scene eleven: ensemble together again, a week after the show closes, contemplating pros and cons of accepting an offer for a year-long residency at a newly opening theater. protagonist remembers her thoughts of moving to LA within the next year, but recognizes that her fear of improv has been replaced by a love of spontaneity, honesty, and self-direction. 

Scene twelve: kid’s parents ask protagonist if the kid could ever come see one of her shows. she remembers a conversation about potentially incorporating a children’s show into the improv residency. says, “yes, he might be able to.” kid says, “oh, would i be able to be IN the show.” she thinks for a minute, “yes, yes exactly— you would.” kid beams.

BLACKOUT. 

x Sarah-Doe

The nature of performance…

Now that the show has come to a close and I am reflecting back on our run, I keep thinking about the idea of “performing.”  The performances of Storybox were different from all of our rehearsals because they added a new element to our work: an audience. The audience is obviously an essential piece of performance art; without the spectators, the art is not a performance. However, Storybox is most effective when the spect participant can forget the audience and engage in the story as one real person speaking to another real person.  People with acting backgrounds said they had the hardest time giving up the idea of performing; they felt a pressure to be “on” or to be funny so that the audience would enjoy themselves. But it was often the people who were not trying to perform who seemed to engage the audience the most because their interactions were so authentically human. This process was a great reminder that rehearsal is the time to sharpen your skills and craft a show that will appeal to the audience. In performance, it’s best to forget about the audience and just trust that if we do our work, they’ll enjoy it.  It’s also a reminder that we all have our “stage” where we feel we need to perform, whether it is the family “stage,” the business meeting “stage,” the flirting in a bar “stage,” or, for actors, a literal stage.  Perhaps we need to stop performing everywhere and just connect.  If we stop worrying about “performing,” our “audience” will start engaging as participants.  Thank you to our audiences and participants for letting yourselves engage and learn how to not perform with us.

Love and admiration to all,

Carolyn

Reflection

In talk-backs after all performances of THIS IS STORYBOX, when the spect-actors were asked what they would do differently given the opportunity to play again, most said they would start out playing situations more real.  Their initial impulse was often to be slightly detached, to not commit real emotions to the given circumstances because they knew it was all “pretend.”  They were aware of the audience watching and the hot lights on their faces.  Nevertheless, by about halfway through the stories, spect-actors couldn’t help but be sucked into what was happening.  They forgot about the audience and the lights, actually had real emotional responses, connected, believed. For both performers and audience alike, theater is about being genuinely transported, attaining a catharsis through imagined realities that pulse with truths about what it means to be human.

I am so grateful to have been a part of this project and to have had the chance to work with such a positive, supportive group.  Thank you to all who played with us and all who came to watch.    

-Amanda

What a wonderful start

Opening night last night, and what a great way to start the run.

It’s hard to avoid opening-night jitters, but the cast powered through and made strong choices and exciting stories:

A potential firefighter has to help raise is little cousin.

A disappointed dad would rather go on dates and build a catapult.

A wondering kid conflicted on whether to take off on the open road or take care of his grandmother.

I can’t wait to see what’s created tonight.

Thanks to our spect-actors, and thanks to my great team.

-Shea

Parallels to Theatre of the Oppressed

A lot of people mention Boal and his Theatre of the Oppressed when I explain StoryBox to them. There are a lot of parallels, and as I am preparing for opening night tonight and thinking about the reasons why sharing this work is important, the words from the Theatre of the Oppressed website’s Declaration of Principles (http://www.theatreoftheoppressed.org/en/index.php?nodeID=23) completely resonate.  

Theatre of the Oppressed strives to be “a system that enables people to act in the fiction of theatre to become protagonists, i.e. acting subjects, of their own lives.”

The primary guiding principle is that theatre is essential—it is not limited to the sphere of artists and dreamers, but instead, “every human being is theatre!” The Declaration of Principles goes on to explain, “Theatre is defined as the simultaneous existence — in the same space and context — of actors and spectators. Every human being is capable of seeing the situation and seeing him/herself in the situation.”

StoryBox relies on this ability to empathize and relate. It assumes that all humans necessarily understand common elements of the human experience. It is a natural tendency to see ourselves in another’s shoes and imagine how we would handle the situation.

So then what is the ultimate goal here? TO states its (and our) purpose beautifully:

“The Theatre of the Oppressed offers everyone the aesthetic means to analyze their past, in the context of their present, and subsequently to invent their future, without waiting for it. The Theatre of the Oppressed helps human beings to recover a language they already possess — we learn how to live in society by playing theatre. We learn how to feel by feeling; how to think by thinking; how to act by acting. Theatre of the Oppressed is rehearsal for reality.”

Empowerment. How can we teach the spects to play by reminding them that they already know how to play? How can we encourage people to take agency in the stories of their own lives when it feels like outside forces have taken control? How can we empower our audience by showing that our choices, our reactions, our relationships are ultimately within our own power?

Don’t wait for your future. Tonight let’s rehearse for reality. Live. Play. Empower.  HAPPY OPENING! 

~Carolyn

Acid Pits, Jail, and Paris

Today I once again had the pleasure of going straight from babysitting a six-year-old to Storybox rehearsal— but this time I came armed with diet coke, and sometimes, that makes all the difference. 

In six-year-old-land, we discussed his brother (he is an only child) who isn’t around much because he’s a spy. The kid I babysit is also a spy, of course, and has been training me in martial arts so that I can save myself from the acid pit I’m destined to fall into next Monday. (When he predicted this last week, I got a splitting migraine on Monday. With an imagination as strong as his, I wish he would fantasize about me with oodles of fame, fortune, and fulfillment.) Reality as we know it took several turns, including orange juice being a restorative tonic that brings superhuman strength to its drinker, the trees turning purple, and my charge speaking in Cat to the family pet. 

Then I went to Storybox, where we met new “playmates” who were generous enough to “spect” for us. And the experiences and stories were as unique and wonderful as ever. And a certain clarity came: It is all the same. Not literally, of course. But the same part of me that plays with this six year old is what storyboxes with people. It is a part that is both focused and open, receptive and firm, defined and mutable. 

Even now as I write this and think of that state, I wonder if we do not always exist within the margins of that state, but only become hyper-aware of it when thrust in a situation like Storybox. Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

This is Storybox!

Sarah-Doe

A Spect Speaks

Barton, who participated in StoryBox a couple weeks ago, just wrote this about his experience:

“Maybe it’s the game enthusiast in me, but I keep thinking of StoryBox as a chance to play a living, breathing First Person Drama. The spectator / participant finds themselves thrust into an unfamiliar world, unsure of the parameters, unsure of the rules. The contained universe is all theirs to explore, to test the boundaries. And - just like an open-world sandbox video game has a way of reflecting a personality trait or bringing out a side of yourself you didn’t know you had - StoryBox ultimately seems like a great way to explore the self.”

The Hero’s Journey

“The hero’s journey refers to a basic pattern found in many narratives from around the world. The hero begins in the ordinary world, and receives a call to enter an unknown world of strange powers and events. The hero who accepts the call to enter this strange world must face tasks and trials, either alone or with assistance. In the most intense versions of the narrative, the hero must survive a severe challenge, often with help. If the hero survives, the hero may achieve a great gift or “boon.” The hero must then decide whether to return to the ordinary world with this boon. If the hero does decide to return, he or she often faces challenges on the return journey. If the hero returns successfully, the boon or gift may be used to improve the world.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monomyth)

I view the hero’s journey as a heightened dramatization of the experience of living.  The hero aka any moving, breathing human is faced with countless choices all the time, which can be simultaneously liberating and terrifying, as there are always repercussions, elements of risk, tasks and trials. But the choices must be made in order to advance the narrrative, both fictional and real, in pursuit of the “great gift.”  The self is a constant work in progress; we are always evolving and redefining ourselves based on our choices.  This is a major theme in Storybox.

-Amanda