> What's your internal experience of the repetition exercises?
It's a lot like improv in that you establish an unspoken protocol for exchanging lots of side channel information.
But unlike reading between the "yes, and" subtext to build a narrative world and rules, you're taking in raw, full sensory emotion in an intimate way by completely dropping your own filters. Brains melded, firewall open. You have to say what you see, what you understand, and what you feel. And you have to tell the truth and not lie to yourself and your partner.
It's as uncomfortable as staring into their eyes, until it stops being uncomfortable. And you don't even have to be looking at one another. You can hear it in their breathing and the cracking of their voice. You know exactly how you feel about everything with exacting precision. You're uncomfortable and vulnerable and excited and anxious, and you let them know.
Meisner removes all the social filters of the adult brain. All the platitudes and the scar tissue of decades of interacting with people in society. You stop judging and worrying and just say and do what you feel. And you hear it from them too, and you believe them because they're being honest with both you and themselves.
You know if they're lying, because you've trained and can sense it. And you'll call them out on it. They'll do the same to you when you attempt to hide. They'll really dig in. Once you're under that spotlight, there is no hiding. You can go wherever you choose to go. It feels raw and weird and more intimate than being with a lover.
With practice, "you're wearing a blue shirt" becomes "I don't like how you look at him and smile, but when you look at me you frown". And everyone cries and yells and things get thrown.
On the spectrum of our robotic "how are you? / I'm fine, and you?" programming and a raw and intense fight with a lover, Meisner is the latter. Except you get to be that authentic for the entire range of human emotions: good, bad, happy, sad. A door to everything you could potentially feel.
It's animalistic and completely cerebral. And it's real and you live it. Sometimes you come away shaking.
Huh! That's my experience of performing, for sure, but Meisner wasn't presented to me that way. One of the teachers of a workshop I was in had studied with Meisner, and had led (I think?) the London Meisner Institute, so I figured I was getting it straight. She approached repetition exercises more like intuitive textual analysis - finding the subtext, as you (or someone else) said up-thread. I've never had trouble supplying more subtext than anyone could ever want, so that bit didn't do anything much for me.
Neither did the crying and the yelling. I did too, just so as not to be left out (crying and yelling is always good fun), but they all took it so damn seriously that I wasn't sure where the line was between useful work and self-indulgence.
Oh, and also I think a professional actor ought to be able to drop in without having to drag someone else through ten minutes of repeating the first three words of their lines back and forth until the syllables are drained of all meaning. True story! I was as good a sport about it as I could be, but gosh... It was drizzling, and the lighting guy fucked off for tea, and I sure wished I could too.
I know more direct ways to get students to drop their inhibitions and tune into each other than repetitions. (Oh, and the audience! Everything I've seen of Meisner neglects the audience, and I think being aware of them is really important for stage work. Camera, same, for screen acting.)
Anyway, I'm sure I'm just missing something, and being grumpy. Like I say, I've seen positive results for some actors (though not the chick in the rain), so it's doing something, and I'm glad it works for you.
From my understanding, the repetition exercise has always been something taught to brand-new students in the first month of acting classes, to demonstrate the difference between reciting lines and saying things in a spontaneous, believable manner. As well as to teach what subtext is.
The idea that anyone would be doing the repetition exercise after their first month of acting school baffles me. It's not a technique that was ever intended for, or should be used by, professional actors, as far as I've ever understood it.
Well, it was the director's girlfriend - or maybe just a woman he wanted to shag? Memory fails. He was good enough - the finished piece looked fantastic - and I was doing a favour for a friend, so it was all OK. The girl had a list of London credits that I doubted heavily, but she came off very well on camera, so <shrug>. It's nowhere near my worst experience with a film actor, only annoying at the time, and totally worth it (as most things are) for the story.
It's a lot like improv in that you establish an unspoken protocol for exchanging lots of side channel information.
But unlike reading between the "yes, and" subtext to build a narrative world and rules, you're taking in raw, full sensory emotion in an intimate way by completely dropping your own filters. Brains melded, firewall open. You have to say what you see, what you understand, and what you feel. And you have to tell the truth and not lie to yourself and your partner.
It's as uncomfortable as staring into their eyes, until it stops being uncomfortable. And you don't even have to be looking at one another. You can hear it in their breathing and the cracking of their voice. You know exactly how you feel about everything with exacting precision. You're uncomfortable and vulnerable and excited and anxious, and you let them know.
Meisner removes all the social filters of the adult brain. All the platitudes and the scar tissue of decades of interacting with people in society. You stop judging and worrying and just say and do what you feel. And you hear it from them too, and you believe them because they're being honest with both you and themselves.
You know if they're lying, because you've trained and can sense it. And you'll call them out on it. They'll do the same to you when you attempt to hide. They'll really dig in. Once you're under that spotlight, there is no hiding. You can go wherever you choose to go. It feels raw and weird and more intimate than being with a lover.
With practice, "you're wearing a blue shirt" becomes "I don't like how you look at him and smile, but when you look at me you frown". And everyone cries and yells and things get thrown.
On the spectrum of our robotic "how are you? / I'm fine, and you?" programming and a raw and intense fight with a lover, Meisner is the latter. Except you get to be that authentic for the entire range of human emotions: good, bad, happy, sad. A door to everything you could potentially feel.
It's animalistic and completely cerebral. And it's real and you live it. Sometimes you come away shaking.