A blog on why we need actors
Patsy Rodenburg is an acting coach who regularly works with the likes of Judi Dench, Hugh Jackman, Ian McKellen and Ralph Fiennes, to name only a few. She fundamentally understands the power of actors and how they can transform and have profound impact on those around them.
I recently stumbled upon this presentation in which she argues that the world needs actors now, more than ever:
Patsy talks about The Second Circle, a concept based squarely on being in the moment, being present. My favorite acting collaborators embody this in all elements of their existence both within theatre and within their day-to-day life: whether it is a private one-on-one conversation over coffee, sweating it out in a rehearsal room or a performance in front of a packed house; their presence is undoubtedly real and alive. It’s the presence of terrific actors that makes the theatre the greatest place for storytelling.
However the concept of presence isn’t just limited to those on stage. Patsy is absolutely right in her assertion that we have individually and collectively lost our sense of presence. As a director, I have to be honest in saying that I’m not always present in the rehearsal room and in this age of big technology it’s easy to be distracted. I have often found myself in a rehearsal room checking my blackberry or thinking about another element of the production. Being present is taxing work.(This is one of the reasons I’m spending a year at the VCA: I want to become more focused on being present and being truthful as a theatre creator.)
Obviously the issue is broader then just theatre. In life we have lost our sense of presence and we have a great deal to learn from observing actors and how they work.
My best friend is an actor, her personal presence is almost unparalleled by anyone else I know. But it must be said that her presence, her training, her discipline comes at a heavy personal cost. Being an actor is emotionally taxing, bordering on almost always being exhausting. Her chosen path is one which is often socially frowned upon. Many times her passion has come under fire: from friends, family and even in her community.
For some reason we don’t respect actors nearly enough. We don’t recognise them for that great presence. People say things to my friends things like “but what if you never get a big break?”
We measure the success of actors in whether they have starred in a box-office smash hit, and not in their presence.
Another actor friend of mine recently drew my attention to the great Geoffrey Rush and a speech he delivered at the AFI Awards. In it he tells, in very honest terms, just how difficult it is to be an actor and the hurdles he has personally faced. It’s a must-watch for anyone pursuing a career in the arts because it articulates exactly why we need to respect creativity and the skills of actors:
Your blog on presence is good, and I can particularly relate to the whole bit about being absent etc, but I just can’t help but wonder what constitutes an actor? Is it just some abstract idea? or is it something discrete? Some platonic realm that an “actor” enters into? Is it about context as opposed to construct of one’s mind? I agree that actors are important, however without grounding what “actor” represents/embodies, it might be a slippery argument.
If the goal is to elucidate truths or absolutes, why is it only “the actor” or “the theatre” that is particularly special? Is it because it is a formalised setting?
Bryce, you talk about informal settings (over coffee) to point out that actors are not limited to curtains and stages, but I would argue that by that logic, the transmission of the message, the language of the actor, whatever you what to call it, is not limited to actors.
Does one become an actor upon transmitting truths, as Patsy puts it, and therefore can anyone be an actor at any given moment in time?
Could the garbage man be an actor if the way he throws the garbage into the back of a truck reminds a passer by of their abusive father?
By Patsy’s logic, I reckon the answer to be yes (of course she may have given some earlier definitions).
Loosely, I think acting is largely comprised of observation, and retransmission of some kind. But it is the observation bit that distinguishes the actor from the garbage man – anyone can retransmit (I’m sure there’s some fancy word for it) sometimes just in a moment of coincidence and completely by accident, but only the actor combines their observations of…I dunno…humanity, and then there’s probably some sort of internal algorithm or process or something, and then there’s retransmission or relaying of truths.
Observation and intent….there you go.
That’s my take and thought.
My definition of an actor is this:
a skilled practitioner focused on creating a sense of truth; to bring a world into being, usually to be experienced by an audience.
I’m not referring to an abstract concept of us all being actors. My argument is a simple one: there are a range of actors, who I work with, who share one common theme. They are very present and it’s a quality which you can easily connect with.
The same can’t be said about the journalists or accountants I know. It seems that there is something about the ritual of acting, or making theatre, which creates a sense of presence.
We often think of our actors as predominantly imitating or rendering a world that already exists, and concentrate our efforts on how realistic what our actors are doing is. This is important. The audience has to believe. But first there is a world to be created through what the actors imagine and do – through the images created by their bodies and voices and the objects that they use.
My interest in acting is simple. Storytelling is both crucial and fundamental to the survival and progress of humanity. In an age where we are saturated with stories and narratives, we require skilled artists to challenge and remind us of our basic humanity.
Observation and retransmission is a very misguided view of what skilled actors achieve and create with their art-form. Those truly gifted artists, the elite at this thing we call acting, all have one thing in common. They create a sense of truth. This can happen in many ways, observation being just one. What about dreaming, study, sexuality, physicality, taking risks, digging deep into the space of memory? All of this shapes what an actor does.
Very misguided? Now these are strong words. With all due respect, yours is not the final word.
Perhaps a more loquacious response may assist me.
Patsy infers something that I’ve heard to described as the platonic world (named after Plato who postulated that the world we live in is merely a world of shadows and reflections of the “real” world) where ideas, concepts, thoughts, and meanings are discrete, absolute, pure, irreducible and, most certainly, true.
Patsy’s example of the stricken father, the man who heard a truth that he wasn’t ready to hear, implies that the actor was reaching into this realm, and perhaps with this device, the second circle, the father was pulled, somewhat unwillingly, into this “truth realm.”
In this case, the actor was the gatekeeper and raconteur for this “scream” which is so pointedly framed, by Patsy, as a “true” scream, wretched from, and taken to common place of experiential understanding.
But the pervading point that both you and Patsy seem to be touting, and I certainly am not saying that I disagree with you, is that all actors create a “sense of truth,” and that a non-actor, say a journalist or an accountant, does not. This seems to be the sticking point as to “why we need actors.”
A journalist and an accountant are convenient examples – a journalist’s medium is paper, an accountant’s, a ledger, but the point is moot. In mutually exclusive terms, it goes without saying that an accountant is as much an actor, as an actor is an accountant. They are by definition, not the other. But that precludes the possibility that one can be both an accountant, or to use my example, a garbage man, and an actor.
I’m not trying to argue that there can be duality – that strikes me as a fairly rudimentary point – no, I want to know what actors do that no one else can do.
That’s what I expected to find out upon reading this entry.
I’m fine with taking the concept of actor at face value as opposed to seeking some abstract extensions. Bullshitting along the lines of “everything is nothing” and “everyone is an actor” is unhelpful and pisses me off too.
Surely, intent is a crucial discriminant?
You said it yourself –
“My definition of an actor is this:
a skilled practitioner focused on creating a sense of truth; to bring a world into being, usually to be experienced by an audience.”
I’m ok with this, but there are many other ways to “create a sense of truth.”
You may disagree with me, but my point is that if all one needs to do to be an actor is to create truth, then why is Turner, one of the most profoundly beautiful landscape painters of the Romantic period not an actor? I’m not being abstract, honest, I’m not. But both you and Patsy have so far failed to define what part of the actor is irreplaceable, unsubstitutable, if you will.
Furthermore, the idea of truth, if that’s the actors main currency, is a slippery one too. Picasso said
“We all know that Art is not truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize truth, at least the truth that is given us to understand.”
If I know anything about this universe, it’s that truth is relative, and what’s to say that a person my feel nothing from an actor’s “truth” and everything from a Jazz saxophonist’s “truth?”
I’m not trying to be vexatious Bryce, but I am attempting to point out that a blog titled “A blog on why we need actors,” a title that( in my opinion) alludes to argue against notions that devalue, diminish and seek to supercede the actor, should do more than just give an example of the end product.
I have an idea, within myself, of what it is. If I could be so bold as to say that immediacy plays a crucial role in making the actor immutably relevant. But I would like to hear more from you on that part.
The second part of Picasso’s quote my provide us with some deeper insight as to “why act?”
“The artist must know the manner whereby to convince others of the truthfulness of his lies.”
As for my initial post…yes. Observation. To observe is to experience, and to experience is to observe. Whether it is some absolute truth, or just a fleeting notion of truth, an observer can tease out facets from any of the contexts you listed.
One can dream, but without observation and memory of that dream, and an extraction of some meaning, some blessed truth, the dream is just a falling tree with no observer.
I simply defined the focus of observation as humanity.
Perhaps you took that to mean some sort of method acting approach, or more of a
“Chopper Read talks in a high voice, so I, Eric Bana, will do the same in my attempt to imitate him” approach.
And yes. Retransmission. In fact I couldn’t have put it better myself:
“We often think of our actors as predominantly imitating or rendering a world that already exists, [how is this not retransmission?] and concentrate our efforts on how realistic what our actors are doing is. This is important. The audience has to believe. But first there is a world to be created through what the actors imagine and do – through the images created by their bodies and voices and the objects that they use.”
Initially I only used the words observe and retransmit out of laziness and an effort to be casual and light-hearted, but I stand by it.
In future I’d appreciate a little more courtesy than you simply telling me outright that my view is misguided. I may be a layman when it comes to acting, but I’m not stupid.
You’re stupid enough to write my instead of may!
My darlings!
Where did all this animus come from?
Ed – I would have thought that Bryce’s definition of an actor required only one addition to be perfectly comprehensible: ‘(all of Bryce +) embodying a personality on stage or on screen’. Pretty simple, and something I’m sure occurred to you as well.
I don’t think that the ‘platonic’ comments really fit, here. The notion of the ‘platonic’, after all, is one of an ideal: that which is ‘platonic’, properly speaking, doesn’t exist at all. It’s a notion – an idea of perfection. So it can’t properly apply to anything real.
Why do we need actors? Well, Picasso might be a pretty good guide there too. We need the lies told on stage to nudge us toward the truth in life outside a theatre just as we need art to nudge us towards the truth outside a gallery.
I’m not sure that semantic squabbling over the exact and only definition of an ‘actor’ really helps, here. You know as well as anyone what that word means.
Bryce: In a strange way, Ed has spoken to something important here.
I’m not sure I agree with the basic premise of his complaint, but IS it important to be able to define the task and role of an actor?
The more I think about it, the less I’m sure.
Still, loved the post and enjoyed the comments.
But, Ed: settle, my sweet. These outbursts can’t be good for your arterial walls.
Misha, I hope the bleak miasma that has enveloped me after Sunday’s loss has not troubled you too.
The ‘platonic’ business is indeed a tricky one. Agreed – it can’t apply to anything real, but in my experience and reading, many great thinkers and performers of our time invoke varying manifestations of the concept. I merely commented on it, not because I “believe in it” or anything like that, but because it struck me that that’s what Patsy was invoking, and maybe Bryce was too – I’m not sure.
In his book “The Mind of God,” Paul Davies’ explains that self confessed Plationists are responsible for some of the most mind-boggling discoveries in modern mathematics. If I could borrow some of his text….
“He [Kurt Gödel] envisaged these true statements as therefore already existing “out there” in a Platonic Domain, beyond or ken. Another Platonist is the Oxford mathematician Roger Penrose.
“Mathematical truth is something that goes beyond mere formalism,” he writes.
“There often does appear to be some profound reality about these mathematical concepts, going quite beyond the deliberations of any particular mathematician. It is as though human thought is, instead, being guided towards some eternal external truth – a truth which has a reality of its own, and which is revealed only partially to any one of us.”
(page 142 for anyone interested)
Ok – maths and theatre are fairly distant fields – but my intuition leads me to believe that we can learn from great thinkers from any field. I hope you can take that leap of faith with me, but I’m more than happy to hear why they aren’t relatable.
I merely commented on it, not because I “believe in it” or anything like that, but because it struck me that that’s what Patsy was invoking.
Do I think the realm exists….no. But I think that’s almost redundant anyway. What’s relevant is that I am open to the idea that humans think it exists.
In his most recent book “The Greatest Show on Earth,” (a cracking read) Richard Dawkins gives us his theory as to why humans have had difficulty accepting that we are evolved creatures. He unexpectedly rebukes the idea that it is due to religion’s crafty footwork, and instead points to Plato’s theory of Forms. Dawkins postulates that we all have an innate belief that the Platonic realm should exist, even if we can’t see it, even if it does not exist. We find it hard to reconcile Evolution at face value, because it points to nothing (in the structural sense.) That idea resonates with me.
One might argue that we need actors because they are here. Our societies have evolved such that the profession has survived thus far, much like doctors, politicians and prostitutes. But that would be a boring line of discussion. Maybe Peter Singer or some utilitarians might say that, but I’m a bit of a romanticist myself.
These are giant steps from the initial ideas Bryce was presenting, and I apologise for that. Hopefully there’s something here that gets the ol’ grey matter ticking over. I’ll leave it to others to decide whether this gup is relevant to the conversation.
And Mish, can I blame my outburst on the loss?
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