Sunday, October 28, 2012

Three dimensions of existence

My teacher Ronlin in our 3D Mask class this week proposed a story was in 3D. The beginning is the horizontal line, the conflict is the vertical spike in the story and the conclusion is the depth. Wild idea. A real story is in 3D. It is alive. It breathes. I don't know how the thing comes to life and at one point the writer stops being the force behind the creation. Is there a point in artistic creation where the reigns must be given over to a creative energy that the artist cannot take credit for? Or do we ever even begin to start the creation process? Are we always simply channels, working at all times to get out of the way for the unknown to work through us? I'm struggling to understand the connection between the unknown and my consciousness. Both are a part of the creation process, no? At one point do I have a part of this creation process? And what does I mean in this context? I use it a lot and am not even sure what part of me it refers to. I know...heavy. But seriously I'm not being flippant here.

There is a demand for honesty here at Dell'Arte that is so high I sometimes feel stifled. I am reminded what my other teacher Joe said about working to explore the micro level of intention. Movement follows intentions. So, rather than just turning your head on stage, asking the tough questions about the motivation behind every head turn. Dissecting a piece of theater to this level of detail, allows for a level of nuance that creates good theater. When you turn from upstage to move downstage to open a door, does your head lead because you heard something? Does your body lead because you're still looking for someone out the window upstage? Who are you looking at? How do you feel about them?

Working to include this level of detail in a cognitive way, seems to go in direct contradiction to the idea that we must somehow tap into this state of being a channel for the creative unconsciousness. To listen and embody what we hear. Simply.

Like any good prospect in life. Wrought with paradox and contradiction. The dance goes on. 

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