Teaching
Philosophy
Paul
S.
Kassel
Skills can be taught in a semester, but
artistry is
learned over a lifetime. In the
classroom, whether it is a practical performance-oriented course or a
seminar
on aesthetic theory, the teacher must collaborate with the students to
create
an environment in which learning may occur.
The course objectives will determine the nature of the
experiences
necessary for the material to be assimilated, but the experiences must
adapt to
students’ needs and will evolve as the teacher’s understanding of the
material
deepens. The teacher’s job, then, is to
develop a process through which the material unfolds clearly and
coherently,
enabling students to come to the work and participate fully in learning. Herbert Kohl says, “Teaching is no simple
matter. It is hard work, part craft,
part art, part technique, part politics, and takes time to develop ease
within
such a complex role”(Kohl, 13). Like the theatre, teaching is a life’s
work.
<>Acting
Great
acting is compelling—commanding attention. Great actors create
compelling
performances through bold, imaginative choices, and through the
intimate
connection they generate between each other and an audience. The goal
of actor
training is to develop a technique that will result in a compelling
performance
every night when the curtain goes up or every time a director calls
“action!” I
have trained in a variation of the Meisner technique, studied the major
methods
in New York and have a strong classical background. However, I
believe there is no single way or method to develop as
an actor. Although it is imperative
that training is grounded in a clearly articulated philosophy of
performance,
any approach, no matter its foundation, must adapt to and nurture the
individual’s talents. Each student has
unique challenges to face, and unique talents and abilities. My
goal is to guide the process of
discovery, and to give the students freedom to explore, make mistakes,
and find
joy in the work. <>
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The primary objectives of a performing artist are to serve
and express theatrical material through the articulation of the actor’s
tools—the voice, body, imagination, and emotions. Full
command of the actor’s tools enables the performer to
respond freely to external stimuli—other actors, the audience, the
scenic
environment—and to impulses from within. The actor articulate in the
use of the
tools will be “in the moment,” fulfilling the demands of the material,
realizing the choices of the director, and fulfilling the actor’s own
choices,
too. Focused work on the body and voice
must go hand-in-hand with work in the acting studio, where all the
actor’s
tools come into play. I use many
exercises to develop the voice, body, and imagination, and establish a
routine
for their fullest articulation. Emotions are a by-product, or result,
of action
and ought not be the focus of training.
However, fostering an emotional connection to the material is
important
and ought not be assumed or taken for granted, particularly in the
young
actor. To aid the development of emotional
facility in the actor, I use simple, straightforward and positive
means. After
exploring and strengthening the actor’s tools, the student-actor is
ready to
cultivate an understanding and a command of the acting process.
Although every theatrical event has its unique demands, acting is
essentially the application of energy to a task—performing
actions—doing something, toward some end, within
some set of circumstances. This is the
business of the actor and the main focus of my work: playing actions,
transforming
material/text into playable actions, and finally structuring those
actions into
a performance. The theatrical event is
like a game, and the text is a description of the game. The
actor’s job is to discern the rules of playing from the description of
the game. Text is a result of action, and therefore the actor must
discover the
underlying actions and play them fully while responding freely to the
energy of
the scene partner, audience, and environment.
Text and character analysis are both important parts of the actor’s
technique. However, analysis must free
and excite, not hinder, the actor’s imagination. My approach to
analysis is
primarily structural, but I also employ a variety of non-traditional
methods,
from game analysis to feminist theory, to explore the text.
Philosophically,
I am greatly influenced by Susanne Langer, as well as by Brook,
Grotowski,
Boal, and the ideas of John Cage and other contemporary performance
theorists. For specific actor training,
I am indebted to my own teachers, as well as the writings of Benedetti,
Spolin,
Chaiken, Johnstone, and the techniques of Laban Movement Analysis,
yoga, and
aikido, among others. The
basic questions any theatre program must pose are whom are we training,
for
what, and why? Answers to these
questions will vary; methods and even the medium may change. New
technologies, advances in neuroscience,
and the political-social-economic changes in the world are only just
beginning
to alter how we will define theatre in this century. Training
ought ultimately focus on nurturing individual artistry
and expanding the range of human expression.
The unique individual is what finally “sells” in the marketplace. An
original artistic vision, supported by a full range of physical,
emotional, and
intellectual expressiveness will enrich the artist’s life and the lives
of
those touched by the artistry.
Approach to Directing
A director must be arduous in research, meticulous
in preparation, inventive in staging, and inspiring in communicating.
Great
directing structures the audience’s experience to the utmost degree,
but with
the utmost care, sensitivity, and subtlety.
The director’s tools are the actors, the design, and skills of
picturization, composition, movement, rhythm, and analysis. He
must facilitate the creativity of all the
artists involved in a production, and use directorial skills to allow
the
artists’ work its full life on stage.
The tools needed by the director must be fully understood and practiced
with care.
Research is challenging but rewarding work. An understanding of
the historical,
socio-economic, political, and cultural background from which the
material
developed is crucial in order to fulfill the demands of the
material. In addition, significant past productions
(if they exist) must be investigated.
In this way the director may make informed choices—not so as to
reproduce past success, but to enrich and enliven the present
production by
building upon a foundation of knowledge.
With this knowledge in hand, the director may then begin to effectively
prepare for production.
In The Open Door, Peter Brook says that he pre-blocks every
production, but he is fully prepared to throw it all out when
rehearsals
begin. In Directing Plays: A Working
Professionals Method, Stuart Vaughan goes into precise detail about
preparation and its importance to the success of a production.
Although both of these men work in vastly
different ways, they acknowledge that the director who is prepared will
most
likely succeed. The first and most
important step in preparation is analysis. A play or scenario is like a
game,
and the text—dialogue or stage direction—is a description of the
game. The director’s (and the actor’s) job is to
discern the rules of playing from the
description of the game. Text is the
result of action. The director analyzes the underlying actions,
discovering
objectives and tactics, and derives concepts of environment, movement,
and
rhythm from that analysis. Text and
character analysis both are an important part of the director’s
technique. My approach to analysis is primarily
structural, based on Hodge’s model, but I also employ a variety of
non-traditional methods, from game theory (Schechner) to feminist
theory
(Dolan, Case), to elucidate the text. Analysis ought to free, never
hinder, the
imagination.
Inventive staging arises out of
thorough research and careful analysis.
Rules of staging are part of the game of theatre and must be understood
and practiced by student directors. The
rules must be obeyed, but the good players know how to bend those rules
to
their purposes. Like text, blocking is
a result of action. Understanding the
action will lead to effective staging.
In the end though, I believe the question that must be asked is “did it
work?” Whether a staging choice “works” or not depends upon the nature
of the
production. Sometimes a production
demands adherence to the rules of staging; sometimes a production will
demand
that new rules be discovered. In each
case, however, the approach will be determined in doing the preparatory
work
well before auditions. Of course, many
decisions must be made before arriving at a ground plan.<>
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Finally, all the
research and analysis must be effectively
communicated to the creative artists involved in the production.
To inspire the best work from these
individuals is the director’s greatest challenge. The director must be
a master
facilitator, full of empathy, sensitive to learning and creative
styles, and
steady under enormous pressure. For the
design team, the director ought to speak in the language of the artist,
using
concrete images to fire their imagination.
For the actor, the director must speak in their terms, too—actions,
objectives, beats, through-line—but also in whatever way will stimulate
the
actor’s imagination. Primarily that
means effectively communicating the value of the moment and the essence
of the
relationship. However, for each
production, the demands of the material will dictate the form of that
communication. “Stand still on the
punch line,” can be just as effective as any use of acting terminology,
metaphor, or imagery to communicate the needs of a moment. Harold
Clurman says at the beginning of On
Directing that there is no “one method, one correct way” to direct—but
that
each director, like every artist, must work out their own laws for
themselves.<>
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