Doubt

I've written a lot about my creative process, how I get from A to B, and most importantly the faith I have in my process, and understanding and accepting where I am in that process. Well today, that shit got blown right out of the water.

We did a run through of about an hour's worth of the show. My number falls into that particular hour. Up until now, I have gotten virtually no feed back on my number. We even did one run where after wards, as we went act by act to give feedback, the director actually skipped the wheel. Completely forgot it happened. I was told that meant things were good, on the right track. Therefore, I took that slight as a sign that things were good and that I was on the right track.

Well today, I was told that my number makes no sense, that the audience can't tell 'who I am', that its too technical, that I don't relate to anyone, etc... etc...

Needless to say I was surprised. Especially since this was one of the first runs where I actually started to feel something while I was doing it. I know I've mentioned that there should be no separation between artistic, technique and theatre, but I must admit, until my technique is solid, I skimp on the emotional side of things.

And considering the fate of les voleuses, you can imagine the rage that began to bubble inside me when I was told he couldn't tell who I was on stage. Well guess what? For most of this show, I can't either!

Wheel is the one time I feel I really, truly have my place, that I know who I am. I admit, I have felt a bit distant from that place lately, but I know it. The director always told me he's not here to create the number for me, but now that I've created the number I want, suddenly it doesn't work.

And when the director started to give suggestions of how I could improve, like letting my wheel go off stage and acting surprised when I suddenly realize its gone... I kind of lost my cool. You may not be able to tell who I am at the moment, but I can assure you, I am not that. It took a lot of discussion to find out exact moments that don't work, instead of the general blanket of 'meh'.

Speaking with the director and the assistant director (who is way more clear and way more useful when it comes to stuff like this) I have learned that:

1. I need to create clearer relationships with the musicians, the audience and the wheel.
2. The manipulations are lame.
3. Its good to see me be all feminine, but a part of my nature is dynamic and sharp. So... find some kind of balance... or something.

First point:

As far as the relationships go, I'm kind of stumped. They say I'm in a bubble with my wheel. I can accept that. The thing is, for me, my wheel and my relationship with my wheel is the most important. While I reacted very defensively to that comment in the moment, writing about it now I feel a little more open to reevaluating my relationship with my wheel. There is no doubt in my mind that my relationship with the wheel, the way I touch it, the way I move with it is the most important. But I can see now that perhaps it has been a bit too exclusive of those around me. I don't know how to maintain my relationship with my wheel (its complex and I don't think I could put it into words) and allow others in so that they can bear witness to and experience my relationship with it.

As for the audience, well, of course I need to include them. Its coming. Slowly. Right now the looks feel placed. But I think that will change.

And the musicians? They're not really on my radar. Which is bad. But at the same time, I don't think its possible, or beneficial to try cater to three different groups of people (my wheel is people too). While it certainly didn't happen today, I think that my relationship with the musicians needs to be more along the lines of 'the interconnectedness of all things' than winks and smiles. They really tanked on the music today though. Their words, not mine. So...

Second point:

Manipulations are lame. I'm the first to admit it. And I try really hard to make my numbers so that I have to do as little of it as possible. But the sad truth is, they need to happen. The wheel is big and bulky and needs to be in certain positions in order for things to happen.

I liken it to a swinging trapezist having to take the time to swing back and forth several times before they can do their next series of figures. It is kind of boring, and though people try to make it interesting, more often than not that attempt is met with little success. It is by no means the fault of the artist, its just the nature of the beast. And I know that I, for one, forgive it.

So what can I do? I'm glad to hear that comment, as its not one I've ever really gotten. I think being given a specific example of what to work on is incredibly useful. Like the old camp song says "Can't go around it, can't go over it, gotta go through it!" And so, go through it I will. In this case, I think that means being as present as possible. We'll see how that goes.

Point three:

Hm. The assistant director made an interesting point when we were discussing this. He mentioned that he has his own aesthetic and that I have mine. That's where the balance part comes in. He's not telling me to be someone or something else (like a certain director I could name) but to perhaps soften my crazy dynamic side a little bit. I truly believe the most interesting thing you can be is yourself. So I'm going to mull over this one a bit longer. A voir...

Maybe I was getting too comfortable. Maybe its good to get this kind of a shake up three weeks before we open. I suppose its a blessing that I'm far enough along in my number that I can delve further into the thick of it, that I really have a chance to create something great.

Maybe, for once, my doubt won't eat away at me.