Hamlet!

Ready steady GO.... Hamlet! ...in the style of  Commedia dell'Arte.  A 35-minute theatre tonic.  This was how I started 2014 - and already it is June.  Gr.  Such a fab way to start the year.  I ended 2013 at the seaside... making masks.  How exciting.  Amongst the beach towels, straw hats and sun cream was a chaos of mask making tools and clay moulds and endless packets of plaster of paris.  We, James Cairns, Jaques de Silva, Deborah da Cruz and I, performed at Festival of Fame in Feb...  And recently we reworked it by added more scenes and another layer of design.  Very exciting.  I spent many hours with my very talented friend Vika on a bench in cold square in a city called Hostebro in Denmark brainstorming ideas of how to take the work further.  So thank you Vika.  The next time we perform is at the National Arts Festival.  Can't wait.

   

Jaques de Silva, Jenine Collocott and Deborah da Cruz

Jaques de Silva and James Cairns

Jaques de Silva and Jenine Collocott

National Arts Festival cast:

James Cairns

Jaques de Silva

Taryn Bennett

Jenine Collocott 

Photos courtesy of National School of the Arts (Festival of Fame 2014)

Original cannovacio by... 

Vika Mia Dalhberg-Hansen, Helena Lemenin, Justin Durel, Dylan Clements and Jenine Collocott

Gertrude mask by Vika Mia Dahlberg-Hansen

Polonius mask by Barbara Draeger 

Hello Frank

James Cairns as Frank

The Snow Goose mask performance explorations and rehearsals continue... This is Frank. We are now in a sunny little rehearsal room in Brixton with wooden floors... Today in our break we sat eating lunch and drinking tea in the single streak of sunshine streaming in... A happy winters creation space.

A mask to play in

It has been a long time since i've done a quick bite-sized blog... so here it is.  We are about start full on rehearsals for The Snow Goose with James Cairns and Taryn Bennett produced by KBT Productions (the fab Simon & Helen Cooper)... we have had a number of weeks of research and development... script writing, costume shopping, set building, prop making... and yes... mask making.  And it has been rather challenging.  Not having Matteo (mask maker extraordinaire) there to point out mistakes i'm about to make... has made this process very interesting.  And quite exciting.   We open at the Grahamstown fest in June!

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Theatre is mask

A few weeks ago I received an email from Matteo Destro requesting a testimonial for the new Helikos Website about the MaMa's (Mask & Material) course which is to run in tandem with the theatre course at the school.  I was only to happy to do this.  As the school is simply wonderful.  Here are my thoughts on Mask and Material in theatre....

There was a moment during my studies at Helikos that I realized what ‘Mask & Material’ mean in theatre – this idea that theatre is mask and mask is theatre. Like a fast moving train it hit me smack bang in the face.  It has changed how I see theatre and how I work irreversibly.

Mould of The Snow Goose Hunter... based on character work
with James Cairns

‘Mask’ in theatre extends far beyond physically wearing a mask on stage – and can be taken into all aspects of script writing, staging, costume, performance, lighting, props, voice, music and so on.  In my understanding ‘mask’ is essentially the idea that there is a distance between the theatre maker and the work.  In this distance there is room to play.  And in this play there is a whole world of poetic potential.  Bringing to life, and to the stage, this idea that there is ‘a whole universe inside a single drop of rain.’  And in so doing ones work becomes so much more.  More theatrical.  More poignant.  More funny.  More engaging.  More complex.  More simple.  More.

When I first heard the idea that ‘all theatre should be masked.’  It was a very abstract concept until we began the MaMa’s (Mask & Material) process at Helikos.  I will try to describe it briefly. 

Mould for the second hunter in The Snow Goose based on character work
with Taryn Bennett

When you are physically moulding a mask out of clay a form starts to appear.  If you allow that form to take you on a journey, you will make a mask that you were perhaps not aware you were going to make.  And similarly so it is with theatre.  When you start on the rehearsal floor… be it with physical masks or not… be it with a written script or only the beginnings of an idea… The work sometimes presents an unexpected ‘volume,’ meaning, an unexpected turn that takes you on an unexpected journey.  And it is here that real poetry can be found and brought to the light of the stage… If you are brave enough go deeper into this ‘unexpected volume,’ and if you are able to see it! 

It was in the MaMa’s classes at Helikos with Matteo Destro and Giovanni Fusetti that this horizontal poetic landscape was opened up for me in a very practical, real and honest way.  So much so that I now think it impossible to make theatre, and in fact any kind of art, without asking these seemingly questions:  What is the material?  What is the mask?  And how far can I go? 

If you have ever for a moment silently asked of your work ‘could there be more?’ The answer is yes.  And it is studying ‘Mask & Material’ with Matteo Destro and Giovanni Fusetti. 

Matteo and I on my last day at Helikos and in Florence

If theatre is to not only survive but to thrive, I believe it is through the ancient tools and understanding of ‘Mask & Material’ that it shall do so. 

Go and see for yourself.

Expressive Mono-Directional Masks

Mono-directional expressive masks by Matteo Destro, played by Puja Sarup and Vicky Wright
Photo by Stefano Borghi

My heart swooned when I saw these pics on the Helikos facebook page... I how I wish we had a professional photographer when we were playing these truly spectacular masks.  Totally wonderful.  But in these pics are are the masks we were lucky enough to play.  In the pic below on the right is the mask that I played, to the right left the one Andrea played and above to the left is the one Justin payed in a delightful fire-fighting scene of spontaneous love.  Memories.

I hear via the Helikos grapevine that the scenes photographed here were wonderful... suicide and legal papers.  Like clowns these masks can talk about very deep subjects... through laughter.    

Mono-directional expressive masks by Matteo Destro, played by Kevin Casey and Anja Zavrsnik.
Photo by Stefano Borghi

A Neutral Exit.

In the end my exit was not very neutral at all.

In my very last movement class, Helikos 2012, third year... we worked on the hero and the chorus and returned to neutral mask.  A cycle.  A reminder.  A spiral.  And it is so amazing what a mask does to ones play.  Suddenly so much more is possible.  As Matteo said... I can see your body has a souvenir.  Brilliant.  And it's true we should all have a neutral mask locked in a small suitcase ready to come out and remind one on a regular basis of the necessity of play.  The necessity to move forward.  The importance of the space.  The space!  A little souvenir the body carries but can sometimes forget.  I shall keep this souvenir close... and try to remember that the story is bigger than you.  And the audience wants to dream.  

And with that Helikos is over.  A complete circle perhaps.  With an impact that will last for ever.  

It was a complex goodbye.  Where everything I want to say... how much I want to thank the people... Giovanni Fusetti, the teaching staff, the students... turns very quickly in melodramatic gushing which somehow diminishes the absolute gratitude and love I have for these important people and the journey we have shared together.  Somehow 'Thanks' is just not enough - and somehow it is all one can say.  

So thank you.

Thank you Giovanni Fusetti for planting the school.  For the teaching staff you have chosen.  For the pedagogy that has changed mine, and every students life lucky enough to study under you.  For the rigor.  For the play.  Ultimately, for the flow.

Thank you Matteo Destro for describing complex idea's through simple poetry.  For mask.  For chorus.  For material.  For honesty.

Thank you Liz Baron for voice.  For resonance.  For rhythm.  For vulnerability.  For depth.  For your unbelievably acute ear.

Thank you Sarah Foster for trust.  For compassion.  For the complexities of a group dynamic disguised in seemingly simple games.  For bravery.  

Thank you Bruno... for the grounding.  

Thank you classmates for the friendships and play and learning and struggle and triumph and conflict and laughter and tears.  Till we meet again.

All of us. x  

Neural masks.  Things of great beauty.

Justin.  I miss you.

No longer teacher and student.  For now anyway.

This - of course - shall not be my last post on Helikos.  We are about to get professional photo's of our 2012 final show - where I shall talk about the work the process the tears the love... But somehow it was time for this post.

A noise from the bag

This weekend I got back into the swing of things with my friends... my bag of half finished masks... who shall bounce back to life sometime this year... in the very near future i'm sure. They are a bit disgruntled with being in a bag for so long. The final stages...

1.  Lather stucco
2.  Sand sand sand sand and sand again
3.  Paint
4.  Play

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A conscious kitchen

When man, way back when in Africa, first took a stone and bashed it against another stone breaking it in two... he thought to himself, someone can do that to me.  He looked up to the sky, afraid... The Gods... and tragedy is born.  The idea that there is something much bigger than you that can wipe you out.  It was in this way that Matteo (our mask and movement teacher) described tragedy to us.  The fight with the Gods.  The inevitable.  The hero who knows he is going to die... and bravely sets foot on that journey.  The other way he described it was by asking...  What is the most tragic room in the house?  The answer... The Kitchen.  Imagine if the carrot knew its destiny.  Or the knife knew its job.  Or the hot oil understood what it had to do to the egg.  A conscious kitchen.  Tragedy right there.  Everybody knows... and continues anyway.  The opening title sequence to Dexter.  Mn.

At the same time that we were studying tragedy... the second years were studying the dramatic - and often tragic - silence of full mask.  An interesting parallel because in the end it is all mask... we were just working with a hero and a tragic chorus to amplify emotions and reveal subtext... they were working with a physical mask in a poetic silence that carries exquisite subtext and drama.  How?  I don't really know. It's a miracle.

Puja, Marisol and Vicky in masks made by Matteo Destro
Photo by Stefano Borghi

The mask of theatre

Towards the end of my second year at Helikos earlier this year... I made a mask.  An old woman.  So that I could learn the negative mould technique of mask-making. (I had missed this lesson due to a day spent at some grimy governmental business building organizing another piece of bureaucratic what-not for temporary residency in Italy) Matteo took a day out of his schedule to teach me this.  It ended up being so much more than simply learning a technique, but a day filled with what it means to make theatre.  Matteo said if someone calls him a theatre-maker he says he's actually a director... and if they call him a director he says he's actually a mask maker.  Because theatre is a mask.  Unless you are working in realism of course.  Which we're not.  Giovanni often talks about something being true but not necessarily real.  I like that.  So with mask making the volume and form emerges as it does when you improvise a scene... whether you work on the floor or in front of a computer writing.  That work on stage requires a level of poetry that takes it further than the literal world...  How does the whole stage explode in joy... the mask... the volume... a level of removal that brings you right into the work. (Yes I know... I've spoken about this before... so I won't repeat myself - as such)  But - lately I have seen so much realistic theatre and I can't help thinking i'd rather see the movie... where they have the close up... the swell of music... the cut away to the crashing waves.  Where the camera brings the poetry that two people on stage, one with their backs to you most of the time, cannot achieve.  I know it's a style and a choice.  Ja.  There needs to be more.  For me.  And it's hard.  And you might fail.  But you might not.  

So now as I prepare to return to Italy for my third and final year... this morning I looked sadly at my little box of masks who have not been out to play since I got back.  How quickly life rushes by.  My old woman is still a paper mache mould... waiting for stucco and sanding and painting and ultimately playing... (Which will hopefully happen in the year that lies ahead).  To celebrate her and the art of mask making... which may just be the art of theatre... I have put a few pics below taken during this very important day of mask making and theatre discussion with the ever-brilliant Matteo Destro.  

A family of larval masks

The final step on the mask making journey at Helikos International Theatre School earlier this year... Larval masks.  From very little to very large. A family is born.  Barbara Kysela and mini Barbara Kysela. 

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Larval Mask-Making

We have entered the final week of second year.  Amazing.  And to wrap up the year we have spent some time reflecting on the work we have done in these 6 months.  Even more amazing.  But the most inspiring part of this journey of reflection was when we were tasked to make our own larval mask interpretation of our clowns.  In other words... a simple mask that captures the movement dynamic of your clowns body and possibly sentiment... some clowns are fast, some slow, some chaotic, some ordered etc...  The thing that is so exciting is larval masks were the first masks we used to begin the epic journey of mask theatre.  This is because they are so essentialised - a form emerging from a volume - so in terms of mask-play they are where we start... I wrote about it in a previous post.  But in terms of mask-making it is much harder to capture an essential dynamic movement in a simple form.  It is much easier - conceptually - to make a figurative face.  So this is why the mask that looks the simplest is saved for the end of the programme because in some ways it may be the hardest.  And somehow that's often true.  Simplicity is complex but not complicated...  Deep.  I didn't say that.  But I think it's true.  

A line-up of Laval Mask

and here we have the movement dynamic of Freya, Vika and myself...
We also happen to live together in Florence.  Romantic!

Quietly in the background I have continued to make my full mask... very exciting.  I have completed the mould and all that is left now is to paper mache, paint and hope it works on the stage.  

Our amazing teacher Matteo teaching me a new method in a negative mould
 which helps better preserve the features and details of the clay sculpted version...

When mask-making turns to baking!  Freya and Matteo placing the plaster for the negative mould :)

Hello Elephant

Clowns in Life... What a brilliant and wonderful thing.  Looking at the world through open naive eyes... like children.  What do you know when you know nothing... it seams that you know a lot more actually.  Clowns have the ability to open doors on very large issues... ask impossible questions... say things that only children can say... things that you wouldn't dare say without the little red nose allowing the space to play... with things that matter.  Things which in the real world make you cry.  It is quite something.  But here you laugh not because it's funny but because the perspective is naive, and therefore true, and therefore funny.  You could cry and laugh at the same time.  And we were all once naive.  One of Ella's little friends at about age 4 walked up to a man who only had one leg...

Little Girl: Where is your other leg?
Man: I lost it.
Little Girl: I'll go look for it.
And the man burst out laughing.

Clowns can deal with things like poverty, death, loneliness, fear... with a simplicity and honesty that is arresting.

This week we have had poetic windows opened with clowns posting personal ads in the newspaper, looking for love to escape their loneliness... clowns going to see their psychologist to deal with their personal problems.  All very very funny and often with staggering depth.  Poetry in simplicity.  Children know much more than we think.  But somewhere along the line we get lost.  We grow up.  We forget how to stay in the present moment.  What a pity.

'Fiona' and 'Andromeda' looking out the window of their small aeroplane looking for the Elephant

Andromeda opens the ear of the elephant while Fiona asks important questions...

One of the interesting things about clown, we have learnt, is that whilst simultaneously being right there on stage addressing the audience directly they are at the same time completely in the imagined world... Like talking to an Elephant in the Kalahari Desert...  Hello Elephant.

Meanwhile... I am also making another mask... on the other side of the life spectrum... an old lady.  In our very first project this year we did a piece about old people and old age.  It was an unmasked piece and I thought a nice tie up to this year would be to end with a mask inspired by that work... which changed how I see theatre.  Deep.  But it's true.

My work-in-progress mask mould... Slowly something arrives as Matteo our ever brilliant mask teacher says.

Hark... who goes there?

Yes so it has been a while since I've said something... and it's not that i've had nothing to say... quite the opposite actually.  Our second term ended and as I was taking off my costume from playing Polonius in our Commedia dell'Arte version of Hamlet the taxi whisked me away to the airport for a two-week break back home in Joburg.  Two weeks of family, our pets, the swimming pool and... I know I keep banging on about it...  SUNSHINE!  This is my fifth winter in a row!  So I feel quite excited about summer clothes and sandals.

Rewind.  So now...  Hamlet.  In 22 minutes.  Mmm the full play in 22 minutes.  Well not the full play... But our version of the full play.  What a riot.  And of course it was wonderfully mad... with only the odd Shakespeare line thrown in here and there.  Something is rotten in the state of Denmark!  Frailty thy name is women!  To be or not to be... you know, all the big hitters.  Naturally.

In short... we worked out an event narrative structure (called a canovaccio in the world of Commedia) and then the idea is to improvise within this... but you have the structure to lean on and support you.  And herein lies one of the differences between acting and playing... the actor will execute the structure as it is - moving from one beat to the next.  The player allows whatever new happens to happen and if the audience responds then they go deeper into that until it is over and only then do they return to the structure and move on.  For the most part we only found a few moments of raw play... but when they happened it was so exhilarating.  It requires a whole new level of listening... because it is not pure improvisation.  You know what is going to happen... but how it happens can change and develop and grow.  And if something new is planted in an earlier scene it can come back in a later scene.  It is definitely not boring.  Of course we also played in mask - so the performance is immediately heightened to a whole other level of madness.  And the thing is... as our teaches keep telling us... if the canovaccio works and the performances are good then the piece will work... but if you play... really play... its on a whole other level.  You have to have fun.  It's a rule.  Have fun!  It's not that easy.

This is one of the most exciting things I have learnt.  I know there are lots of exciting things.  But this one rocked.  It somehow incorporated aspects of everything we have learnt up till now.   Changing the space.  Character.  Images.  Technique.  Rhythm.  Madness.

Helena as the Queen (in the mask I made)... back stage getting ready just before our last performance

Slowly getting into the state of the Queen... 'Oh Dear!'  ....Vampish.  Over the top.  Fickle.  Confused.
And very very funny.

Vika as Ophelia (in the mask Helena made) peeking out from the paraventi...  Hamlet gave me a love letter.  It says...
Dear Ophelia, I love you love.  Love, Hamlet

Me playing Polonius (in the mask Barbara made), Ophelia's father... You must remember this a kiss is still a kiss.

So now... returned for the final term and slap bang into clown...  The red nose.  The smallest mask of all.  Aaaah.  And it is so terrifying.  Because your clown is not a character.  Your clown is somehow and aspect of you that wants to come out and play.  And as Giovanni said the other day... sometimes other people love your clown more than you do... you cannot control what comes out... allow yourself to fall... aaaaaah.

So it's the very beginning of this journey and we kicked off with solo performances for the first years... who of course hadn't seen our clowns yet.  It wasn't a performance as such... it was more the reason for the clown...  Sad.  Mean.  Bizarre.  Needy.  Pompous.  Bossy.  Chaotic.  Militant.  But all of them naive.  Mostly funny.  And sometimes poignant.   We were allowed to use objects but no real skills like musical instruments, singing, dancing or too much talking.  An object.  And three minutes.  Go.  Make us laugh.

I was in such a state that I actually walked on stage without my red nose on!  I couldn't believe it.  Of course I was told immediately and had to start again... Apparently this happens often... actors in mask shows step out with their masks on top of their heads having forgotten to pull them down.  So funny.  And a bit of gift... the more energy you have the better.  It seams.  I'll post some pics in the next one.  

So yes.  Welcome to the wonderful world of clown.  We'll see.  Eee.  

The human tragicomedy, Tragicomedia Umana...

I have started writing this several different times... where to start.  There is so much to say.  About acting.  About playing.  About structure.  About dramaturgy.  About rhythm.  But mostly about having fun.  Seriously.  So i'll start at the beginning of the process. The clay.  

We ventured into making our own masks once again... but this time they were to be half masks or speaking masks...  and this time we were to try go further with the form.  Take more of a risk.  But still without imposing your idea.  And I think perhaps we have started to understand something of volume and form and amplification.  Compared to the full mask we made these have stronger decisions in them... both in terms of form and dynamic.  At least I think that is true.  And so, it was with these masks that we began our exploration of Commedia dell'arte type theatre style...  which, for our purposes of exploring human tragicomedy, means improvisation within a structure...

My mask mould...

Justin's mask.  In clay he looked like Robocop - but in the end he was much slower and more stupid than that...
and very very funny!  Boom!

Commedia dell'arte (Comedy of Craft) is considered to be the childhood of theatre... it was half-mask theatre that was developed in Italy in the 16th century... A series of improvised scenes or sketches built around a pre-existing structure or story out line.  Meaning there are fixed points in the play that the actors know they are working within and towards.  And their themes had to be accessible human comedy / drama.  Because the most important thing was that these actors had to keep their audiences entertained or they didn't eat.  We have a lot to thank Commedia dell'arte for... like the first women on stage... to name but one.

So... where best to start the exploration of human drama... where can one easily find comedy and tragedy?  Family.  Ah.  Of course.  What a riot.  We developed scenes that contained some kind of familial relationship and therefore conflict.

In the commedia style of performance the safety net is that you have a prescribed structure, but then within this structure there is the freedom to improvise...  trick your partners on stage by throwing in new lines... new movements... new reactions and so on... build... build... build... crescendo... until the next turning point in the structure.  And you absolutely have to earn the turning points... or you have nothing.  A series of turning points and crescendos...  Because the play must go up... if it doesn't go up... it goes down.  Obvious.  It is.  But do it.  Ahhh.  The freedom.  The constraint.

Of course it took some days... weeks... to get there... but by and large we did.  Even if, we could have gone further... we were starting to knock at the right door.  At least.  And a very important key to success in this style is... you have to have fun... but really and truly have fun.  It is not enough just to act.  Because there is no cleaverly written script with brilliantly thought-out lines and carefully constructed character arcs to fall back on.  So you cannot act without playing.  How exciting.  It is.  Because 'playing' somehow goes further than acting... because, as we are learning, it incorporates the audience and on-the-spot invention.  If you only act it presupposes a fourth wall, but this work directly incorporates the audience response.  If they like something, do it again.  Develop it.  You are in complicite with your co-actors and the audience.  But, because you have the structure upon which to lean, everyone is relatively safe on stage... because not just anything can happen... but a lot can happen... because there are rules...

- Structure

- Listening 

- Action and Reaction

- Rhythm

- Audience Response

- Crescendo

After a dreary nose dive of just about all of our performances Giovanni reminded us, that with this work particularly (but probably in all forms of theatre) having fun is firstly the right and ultimately the obligation of the actor.  And this in no way detracts from the drama in the scene.  Quite the opposite.  It enables the drama to reach the audience.  And that really is the point.  Reaching the audience.  And a fabulous insight from Matteo... Always end up!  Even if you have a dramatic ending.  Punch out.  Boom. 

So the point is that once you have a solid structure, it only works if you really are having fun... then you can play.  And the work can really live.  What an obligation.  A light in the dark goes on.  Structure.  Freedom. 

We ended up with crazy scenes that were really funny in some moments and terribly disturbing in others and moving and mad and tragic...  These two weeks were Family and the next three weeks is Shakespeare.  How brilliant.  Seriously.

Andrea and I in our scene of woman in love with a hyperchondriac man who cannot and will not leave his house...
Helen: Ubaldo, you're so sick because you never go outside.
Ubaldo: I never go outside because I am so sick, Helen.

Helen:  Perhaps luck will be on your side.  After all it is a game of chance... and strategy...

The chicken made by Freya from the Farm House scene... Masks and puppetry.  Cluck cluck!

So after our final public performance... and a grueling few weeks filled with battle and discovery we gathered in a warm bar for a glass of wine.  And for some a game of uno.  I can't play cards now.  What are you crazy.  This is theatre.  And it really was fun... And it really was a struggle.  All of it.  Finding the body of the mask, the vibration... how to be light and fluid and grounded at the same time.  The voice, but particularly the way of speaking which was much more legato than staccato, and Liz (our voice teacher) so cleverly pointed out my rhythm to me... which changed everything...  the rhythm always has to be there - or purposefully broken - regardless of the characters sentiment.  And then how to play the different sentiments through the body of the mask and not falling back onto your own body.  It is so fragile.  The state.  The play.  Whether it works or not.  How can you play cards now!

Uno in the bar.

Walking home with Vika, the snow gently falling on Florence.  Sadly not enough to throw a white blanket over the city.  But enough to make the tip of my nose turn red.  My breath visible in front of me.  A glass of wine warming my belly.  A spring in my step.  Because this week, I feel more than learning something,  I have somehow just began to understand something.  Something important.  I think.  A rare and exciting thing.

Say something... Say something. Anything.

Bye-bye silence and hello voice!  We have taken the - rather large - step from full masks to half masks... from 'silent' masks to speaking ones. Exciting yes - but it is interesting how long it took to let - or get - the voice out - we kept forgetting.  Literally.  Oh god - I can speak.  Say something... say something... anything!  Right.  What should I say?  Eee.

There is something tremendously intimate about ones voice - it can be quite exposing if it is not masked so that it no longer feel like your own voice.  In other words if you are not using a resonance with enough distance from your own speaking voice, it is very difficult to get into the state of the character you are looking for.  Because it is in this distance that one finds 'play' - where you start to say things that you wouldn't normally say... but rather things the character would say... and in the rhythm that the character would say it...

Then, naturally, you need a body which is also masked with a specific shape and given a specific vibration or frequency.  We did a lot of this with full mask.  Full mask is all about physical state (among other things of course) - like how you stand, which part of the body leads and so on...  Frequency is often inspired by materials... glass, rubber, wood, metal, oil and so on...  Where, if you imagine that you are made of that material it effects how you do things.  I, for example, have a better time playing characters with a high frequency, with lots of little fast erratic movements... I feel quite challenged by characters that are more grounded or more liquid.  But materials really help you understand what you need to do physically without getting all psychological about the character.  Where feedback can be - more wood - less rubber!  And everyone understands what is required practically.  How simple?  Mmm.

So, put these together - a masked voice with a masked body with a specific vibration and you find yourself in an altered state... in the state of the character you are playing.  Hopefully.

Sometimes you're lucky and you hit all three rather quickly - but more often it takes some time.  Giovanni keeps telling us... once you are in 'the state' and if you fall into the creative flow and you are listening, it is the state that tells you what to do next.  This is the endless endeavor of improvised work...  What happens?  What happens next?  And then what happens?

It's not easy.  Or simple.  Because things that look easy and simple are actually very hard to find.  And especially in mask.  If you don't listen, often you panic,  do too much, saturate your performance and ruin the scene.  Which is not great.  Obviously.  And everyone is swimming around in soup.  Wondering what went wrong.

But when it does happen, you have the opportunity to open the door to a whole other world... where firemen fall in love in a crazy piece of sketch comedy... where birthday wishes are lost in a moving piece of tragic comedy... or where typical human behaviour is revealed at the day on the beach.  Dramatic depth can be found in the action of simple every day things.  And it is in the action that the sentiment is revealed.  And the action is seen through very strict action and reaction with your co-players.  A delicate dance of technique and sentiment - and without one you don't have the other.  Although more often than not we'll forgive lack of technique over sentiment.  As Matteo says without sentiment your mask is nothing more than paper mache and elastic.  Theatre.  Poetry.  Life perhaps.

Me in Matteo's mask playing Anne the fireman who falls in love guy whose house is on fire...
Mario, her fireman partner, reminds her that her life is fighting fire with Mario!  Sketch comedy.  Rocking.

And the thing is with mask, it demands such a high level of play - such a specific and clear state - in order to work.  And either it works or it doesn't.  That's it.  It's completely unforgiving.  Luke warm is not really an option.  So the training is how to be so specific that the state does the work for you in a sense.

The first half masks we played were simple mono-directional expressive masks that Matteo made... with the most fantastically expressive eyes.  Yay.  They are wonderful!  What fun.  But because they are so simple and have such a specific dynamic - they are really not easy to play.  You have to be so... specific!  Yes.  Ahhhh.

So yes... on this journey of mask work I think the thing that is becoming clearer, is in theatre ultimately everything is masked - even if you are not physically wearing a mask.  Deep.  In the end even the story is masked through theatrical transposition.  If not - you might as well watch TV.  Exactly.

All eight expressive masks... Matteo said that he has used these masks with very dramatic themes -
like war and exodus - how brilliant.  Poetic.  Clever.  We're very lucky.   Have I said that before.  I believe I have.

Close up.  Art.

Barbara who sang 'Happy Birthday' and moved everyone to laughter and near tears...
with Helikos director Giovanni Fusetti

in full swing... Happy Birthday!