For this entry, I'd like to take a moment to consider just what the artistic "voice" of a production is, or rather, exactly who is communicating to us as an audience.
As many of you might have done, I just finished the entire first season of HBO’s new series, “Westworld.” I may or may not be giving spoilers here - just fair warning. While I originally lauded the show for a semi-original concept and absolutely superb acting, I had no idea that the show was going to be an existential plunge into the meaning of individual consciousness and identity. I marveled at the difference in the styles of acting between the actors playing robots and the actors playing humans, fascinated by how the actors playing robots were much more presentational in their delivery (the viewer could see almost every thought and inspiration going through their heads). Meanwhile, the actors playing humans were much more subtle in their performance; their drives and objectives veiled in many subversive and tantalizing ways. Of course, a director could be credited with this specific distinction in the acting, but nearly each episode had a different director, and very rarely did the same director appear in the credits of any episodes in sequence. So, the conclusion could be made that this specific choice to have two very different overall categories of delivery and performance must have been fully understood by everyone responsible for the delivery, from the writers (also different per episode) to the directors, to the actors, who ultimately deliver the final product.
While film, television, and theatre are different media in which performed stories are presented, they usually have the same hierarchy of who is really the most original “voice” in the production team. The most obvious place to start is with the author of the work. Many teachers and artists I’ve worked with have said that the writer is the artist that has the most freedom with the work, and therefore is the “voice” of the work. However, in regards to contemporary theatre production, the director is able to interpret the work of the playwright in a myriad of ways. While some will suggest that, for example, setting Hamlet in post-apocalyptic America might be extraneous, the director making that choice probably had a relevant reason to do so, in order to reinterpret the work for a different audience. I’m just now imagining Tom Hardy and Charlize Theron in their “Mad Max” regalia as Hamlet and Ophelia respectively, simultaneously rolling my eyes and thinking, “I’d pay to see that.”
In addition, we must not forget the technical elements of this “voice.” Last year on Broadway, director Ivo Van Hove and scenic designer Jan Versweyveld reimagined Arthur Miller’s “A View from the Bridge,” to have a virtual blank canvas, as the actors performed in the round on an internally lit white floor with very little furniture or decoration, and the entire color scheme of the production was in very dull or stark tones. The entire play represented what looked like a boxing ring; appropriate given the very confrontational nature of that play.
But, of course, the actors seem to be the obvious vessel when considering the play’s voice, as they are the ones speaking the words for the audience to hear. I am getting ready to begin rehearsals for the Civic Theatre Guild’s next production, “Bakersfield Mist,” about an art expert called to a trailer park in Bakersfield, California to see if an out-of-work bartender has purchased an authentic Jackson Pollock painting. Through analysis of the lines and stage directions, the suggestion is that my character - the art expert - is somewhere in his 60s. I am nowhere near that. That said, I don’t believe it is wrong to cast a younger actor in the role. Sure, we can put on makeup and I can suggest in my performance that I am near that age. But, the director and I may come up with something different, as we cannot see in the script that the story requires that character to be someone of that age. It may be much more interesting to play that character somewhat younger, giving new voice and perspective to the play. So, now my challenge is, what voice is heard when the art expert is someone with vast scholarship and clinical expertise, but limited life experience? An unusual challenge, to be sure, and I’m drawing inspiration for this character from many different and unusual sources.
All in all, I would suggest that the artistic voice is malleable. Artists in all roles of production have the opportunities to bend their particular gifts in many different ways. While some develop a very signature style (and, there’s nothing wrong with that), others work to diversify their abilities so that the individual voice remains somewhat constant, but also allows it to have many different attributes. “Westworld” inspired me to watch a few interviews with Anthony Hopkins, who still is not sure he knows how to deliver words as an actor. Sir Ian McKellen toured his “King Lear,” for at least two years, and in an interview given right after the production ended, he suggested he’d like to try it again, as he still didn’t think he got the hang of it. The voice is unique - almost on a production-by-production basis - and can be as diverse or consistent as is needed.
I hope to see you at “Bakersfield Mist” in late January (there’s some adult language - be advised) to see what I’ve come up with for my art expert.
I’ll see you at intermission!
