A World Apart

THE BACKGROUND (Where this experience came from): Deborah Lutge of Durban, South Africa, (who received her MFA from Kent State's School of Theatre & Dance in 1996) invited me to be a guest lecturer at the institution where she teaches, Techmokon Natal. So, during July of 1998, accompanied by my wife, Deirdre, I went to South Africa, where I gave workshops in Voice and Acting for first, second and third year theatre students. I also observed and taught classes on Improvisation, Monologue/Poetry, Directing, and Speech Tutorials. I taught a Master Class for graduate honors theatre students at the University of Natal, and held a session for undergraduate students at the University of Durban at Westville. I saw performances by students and professional theatre artists from all over South Africa and other parts of the worked at the Standard Bank National Arts Festival, more popularly known as the Grahamstown Festival (after the city in which it is annually held).

THE FACTS (What I thought happened): I presented myself as an American artist/teacher and shared my approach to the work. I used myself as the model for the work, beginning each session with a "re-creation" of my own experience of sound as a baby. I crawled on the floor and cooed and wailed and screamed with abandon. I stimulated them through my own willingness to be open and vulnerable. I gave a brief talk about the "why" of studying voice, and led a vigorous vocal warm-up and work-out, which included exercises to limber their bodies, center and expand their breathing, build the resonance and range of their voices, and sharpen their articulation. This was followed by a short question and answer session and a break. I moved on to the actor's use of this work. I again began with myself; I presented a monologue which I had only recently begun to work on, to demonstrate the possibilities of letting the voice lead me to a connection with the text. Then I did an extended exercise with the students using their prepared pieces, to help them find a similar "way-in" through connecting to images and feelings, breath, sounds, and finally words that are aroused by those images. The students presented their pieces.

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After a lunch break, I gave a quick tour through the history of American acting in the 20th century, pre and post Stanislavsky (The Group Theatre, Alder, Strasberg, Meisner, film acting and Hollywood, etc.) As an example of this approach, they worked on pairs on Meisner repetition exercises, and to finish up, they had a chance to ask me (or my wife, who came in to "visit" for part of the sessions) anything about anything: Acting, Voice, America, South Africa, etc.

THE REALITY (What really happened): I, like many teachers I suppose, talk about "learning as much from the students as they from me," and use it as a sort of self-effacing mantra of the work. But this past summer, in an indescribably beautiful land 13,000 miles from my own, in a culture proud of its ancient traditions, struggling to let go of its recent past, excited about its present, but unsure of its future, I was forever changed by those students and by the work of my own former student, Deb Lutge, with them. I was humbled by the amazing talent and unbridled passion for acting and theatre that I witnessed. I discovered the truth behind what I had always believed: that "acting-is-acting," that regardless of the culture or background, actors and student actors struggle with the same issues of truth and honesty, of technique versus organic response, of physical release, vocal freedom, breath support and emotional connection. I understood the power theatre and the performing arts and media can have to truly change the lives of those who practice it (the artists) and those who witness it (the audiences). The experience was deep, profound and transformed my life, my teaching, and probably my own work as an actor. How and in what ways did this occur?

THE RESULTS (What I learned and am still learning) The examples are many, but I will pick out three that stood out among the rest:

First, near the beginning of our trip, at the Grahamstown Festival, we watched a performance of Deb Lutge's own play, The Abattoir, which dealt directly and unflinchingly with the effects of apartheid and racism. A powerful and explosive piece, it was yet another example for me of the myriad talents Deb

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