Patrick interviews Patrick. A meta-interview.

P: I am so excited to be here with myself today. Talking to myself about my latest exploration with the tut'zanni crew. So Patrick, let's start simple, tell me about your time in Chicago.

P: We come together.
We create.
It is a flurry of activity, of energy, of more.
When I leave the experience, I finally feel ready to do the work. I am exhausted but just about ready.
WHY IS THAT?

P: That is a great question. 

P: Preparation is definitely something I discovered. What do I need to do while we are apart so that the moment I enter the space I am ready?

So that I am ready to:
     - listen to my fellow players with my whole being
     - respond with joy and love and presence, be completely in the moment, be open
     - embrace the chaos as the beauty it provides and not fear it
     - understand my character's mind and release myself and allow the mask to take hold
     - have fun, and allow that weirdo part of myself to follow its impulses
     - look at every thing that happens as an opportunity
     - ground myself, both mentally and physical (for one usually follows the other)
     - express with precision, physically and verbally, with precision and economy

I guess, it is a bit about - how do I get myself out of the way of myself. 

Isn't that the question. And an interesting one to ask oneself, while interviewing oneself.

P: So, since that was a realization. Maybe another question that might be a good follow-up is, what was your most exciting discovery?

P: Colombina. I was really afraid of that mask. I was really afraid to try out a mask that had so much to it and carried an energy that I had not explored before and was supposed to be off limits to me. Colombina, according to some, is strictly female. It is the only mask that lives exclusively in the realm of women. That is exciting and scary to usurp. I don't want to run from the feminine energy, but I don't want to make a mockery of it. I want to give myself over to it. What I found, that was really interesting, was the grounding required for Colombina was more than I usually have. However, the masks energy moves in two directions - grounded and up. It is finding the balance of those two energies. 

P: So, then, where do you go from here?

P: I have two big things to think about moving forward. How to better connect with Colombina and how to create a preparation regimen that allows me to enter the rehearsal room ready to create and play. So, that is what I do now. Those are my personal pieces of homework.  

Moments of Magic

I am the self-appointed Company Worrier. I think I’m also super fun and have lots of ambitious dreams for Tut’Zanni, don’t get me wrong. But I do often feel that of the six of us, I’m the one asking “Can we really make that happen?” when ALi says “Let’s go make a show in Italy!” and I’m the one trying to figure out a contingency plan if we can’t manage to crowdfund getting Dory and her family to the States for another show development period. Let’s be honest - we live crazy far apart from each other (Los Angeles, New York, Seattle, Boston, Tuscany) and we each have jobs, lives and commitments of our own. Syncing up six busy schedules and actually getting together to make theatre as a company is extremely hard. So hard, in fact, that it doesn't make logical sense that Tut’Zanni is two years old and counting.

Once we've boarded our respective planes and seemingly miraculously found each other (be it in the Florence airport without cellphones or a completely unfamiliar Chicago neighborhood), a kind of magic happens. It’s as if we all know (even me!) that the hardest part is over. The obstacles of time zones and bad internet connections are temporarily gone and we can finally get to work. And by work I mean play.

The beautiful thing about Commedia dell’Arte as a form is the wonderful structure that has been handed down for centuries (getting lost and found again in the process) that we get to utilize. We all are quite familiar with our old friends that populate every Commedia show - Arlecchino, Magnifico, Dottore, Colombina and the rest, and each member of the company has certain characters we comfortably climb into and others we’re approaching as new acquaintances. We all have some sense of what Zanni might do in a kitchen full of delicious food or how an Innamorata might try to kill herself if her all-consuming love goes unrequited for much longer.

On day one of rehearsal in Chicago, the bones of our new project were already there, and we just had to put some meat and skin on the beast. We could have easily gone on for weeks playing around in mask, trying out new character combinations, ridiculous acrobatic moves and new songs with naughty homemade lyrics. But bound by the cruel realities of limited time, we had mere days to go from vague ideas to something suitable to show to our friends and families. A little nervous about time (of course), I proposed a schedule, and we methodically ticked off scene after scene as the days went by from our to-do list. There wasn’t time to polish any one scene or set anything in stone - and that’s another way in which Commedia fits right into our frantic schedules. Commedia is rough and dirty, with an idea of how the show might go but very much improvised top to bottom. We expected the unexpected - the unexpected is when theatre happens.


As the audience for our work-in-progress show began filing in, we were still discussing new ways to spin scenes. And it wasn't stressing me out! Sure, I had some pre-show nerves and worried I might enter or exit scenes from the wrong side of the stage. But I knew whatever was about to happen would be lots of fun for us and hopefully the audience as well. The constraints of distance and time suddenly felt like an asset, not an issue. In the brief flash that we’re actually in the same city, on the same stage, sharing the spotlight together, we give each other every ounce of attention, support and love we can muster. Commedia falls flat on its face without an active and engaged audience, and we as a company similarly rely completely on each other to find those rare moments of magic together.

-Liam

Male/Female Characters - what is the deal Commedia?

Thoughts on male/female commedia characters and Colombina from Dory of Tut'Zanni ensemble:

During our last meeting we discussed our view of male and female when it comes to commedia and we don't think it is so clear in today's society. Instead, for us, it is best to look at the masks as masculine or feminine energies. So a woman in a mask with masculine energy will play as a woman with what would be considered typical or traditional "male attributes". For example, Pantalona with money and power, Dottore pregnant with knowledge or Magnifica horny and rich. Even before I knew I was pregnant, I had this idea of the pregnant Dottore. It seems so fitting, since pregnant women and mothers know EVERYTHING and are so willing to talk and talk and give many an advice whether this helps your or not. In the same vein, you look at Colombina, the voice of reason, as a feminine energy. We decided to give this task to Patrick for our current show. He does not play a woman but more of an effeminate male and I think he has harnessed the true energy of Colombina much more than any of the women in our ensemble ever have. ALi always takes on the task of the male servant characters Zanni, in which she only uses Grammalot, and Pulcinella, a completely silent straight character against Liam's over the top Capitano. Her energy is very playful and not traditionally feminine so these characters work in her body.

Arlecchino, on the other hand, is a challenge to play as a woman. Arlecchino is traditionally a very clown like character, living in his own plane of understanding the world, the way a child understands it except with the sexuality of an adolescent who is always hungry for it... coming directly from the idea of the Italian "mammone" or "momma's boy" he is fun and fancy free. This is hard to portray as a woman because girls tend to mature faster than boys, we have a lot more to prove to the world, so a young girl would be the Colombina not the Arlecchino. This is what I find difficult about it... not impossible but difficult.

But the opposite is true with Strega. She is extremely difficult for a man to pull off. There is a Mago character but usually he is extremely clumsy and dim witted. But Strega is THE strong woman character in traditional commedia. Unlike Colombina who can sometimes cleverly pull a rues or use her womanly form to gain power, Strega IS powerful and strikes fear in the hearts of the other characters. Whether or not her powers are real don't really matter because through her own persuasive, all-powerful nature, she has convinced these characters in this world that her magic is very real and they believe as well as follow through. This makes her the true feminist character. No one would be scared of a man in this way... He would have to prove his power over and over again.

We chose to mask our Colombina because everyone on stage was in mask. When you looked at it in a group as in our final scene, without the mask she was lost and aesthetically it looked strange. It is also important to distinguish Colombina from the innamorati, distinguishing her status because she is the voice of reason but she is still a servant. Whereas a little more flamboyant character like her slightly sluttier counterpart Smeraldina is a little closer to the innamorati in character. Less deep I should say. Though I think it is very possible to play Colombina without mask when innamorati are involved, while being careful not to get her character swept up in the dramatic movement of the other characters.

For the audience this worked well. The most important rule in commedia is not the sexes but the drives. Whether it is a Magnifico or a Magnifica they are driven by money, sex and power or Dottore who is driven by knowledge, food and drink - for Dottore sex is like food so they are one in the same. If you keep the inherent needs of each character and don't betray the mask (this applies to the age of the mask for instance - you cannot play Magnifico or Magnifica as a young man/woman or ugly man/woman because he/she is obviously old) you will keep the integrity of the true nature of commedia.

It'll be a bit of a ramble...

I'm just going to go ahead and write my reflections. It'll be a bit of a ramble, but if I don't just do it now, it'll never get done. - ALi

My Reflections on our Chicago times:

• I really love our process. We all take a moment of our completely separate lives, and collide them in a sort of crazy, manic span of 1 or 2 weeks, and then put the result in front of people to see what they think. For me, as a performer, it acts as sort of a conservatory-type training session. I don't have a week in between each meeting to sort of let everything settle. I have to learn it (or re-learn it), do it, and grow it all at once. A big advantage I think comes from this is that it forces it into my body before I can intellectualize it. 

• The workshops were great fun. I always learn so much more by having to teach. The students were all willing to say "yes", and we were able to cover a lot of ground. 

• The show came together much more smoothly than I could have anticipated. Intended to be a work-in-progress, it ended up being full show length, and covered a huge portion of the plot. It flowed quite smoothly, and we found moments to play. We had an engaged and supportive audience, and that makes me want to give as much as I can. 

• I was really glad we took a leap of faith and tried our street-style performance, with us sitting alongside the audience. It helped me feel supported by my teammates while I was on stage, and feel even more of a part of it as an observer. I was surprised to receive some feedback that the audience enjoyed it as well. They seemed to feel as though it gave them more permission to laugh and cheer and participate. Also, they can tell that we are truly improvising when we all crack up at something new! 

• All in all, I believe Chicago was a huge success.The people were great, and we were accommodated brilliantly. We had a lot of support being there, and that helped so much. (We are already looking into when we can get back!) Nothing can top when we all get together in a fury of last-minute panic, and the irresistible want to play!

The Art of Failing

Teaching an art form is a process (duh!): not only the teaching and learning, but also figuring out what to teach.

When it comes to Commedia, with its rich history (and mysterious, since since the form pretty much died), that story grows more interesting and complicated.

How do you introduce students to this wild world called Commedia?
Do you start with the history (probably too boring), with discipline (probably not that inspiring), with humor (fun but where is the weight of the form), with improv (also fun but not the whole picture), with the physicality (too much training), with imaginative play//lazzi (great fun but takes time to retrain the brain), with chaos (often confusing)…

How do you lay the ground work so that students are interested, excited and understanding the full scope of Commedia?
I mean, it is pretty complicated. I guess, you begin to look for the hook. What will get an artist all excited about learning a new form? One answer: if they feel successful. Remember this is only an introduction.

Success is a funny idea, not haha. When we (Tut'Z) were training in Commedia, failure was essential. We had to learn how to fall flat on our faces day after day (and find the joy in it). Failure is the key to success. When I stepped into a Commedia workshop this past weekend, I was expecting failure to be on the menu. The weird thing, it wasn’t there. The instructor was working triple hard to make sure that we all walked away feeling successful. He would give us lines, he would provide us with scenarios, he would give us the walks, he would give us the characters, he would direct us (like we were his puppets on strings), and never once was there a dull moment.

After the first day, I was really annoyed. I thought he was too prescriptive in his Commedia – truthfully, he would give us the option of freedom but when we faltered he would step in to hold us up which I took as him trying to tell us how it should be done. Really, he was making sure we had a good time. However, in making sure we were all enjoying ourselves, he took away our creativity, our chaos, our terror, our fear, our everything-one-needs to be in the moment. To me, he took away the Commedia.

I stepped up to do a 3 person scene, and took on Tartaglia. I’m not so good at T, but I wanted to try it. While we were up, he kept tossing things at me. I did not know whether to follow my impulses or to follow the direction. I just kept stammering (like T), because everything was mixed up. I was trying to be present, but did not know how to navigate what I wanted to do and what I was supposed to do. I started trying to do both – which meant that it was a huge FLOP. It kind of felt great. I love a flop. It feels terrible but the kind of terrible to get up and try again.

This got me thinking. What is important for
Commedia? What do you introduce first, second, third? How do you bring the person up to speed and the imagination into play and the character into the body? You have so many elements you need to do at once – what is the order you choose?

I learned, never allow the need to succeed take the place of failure. Failure is so important in this form. The way you improve is through a complicated exploration of failure. There is no right or wrong. There is no perfect character or Commedia. We don’t really know how it was done 300 years ago – we are making it up. Fail, in order to succeed.

written by: Patrick Berger

Servant of Two Masters - an uber-positive report!

**Make sure to check out the Christopher Bayes workshop at the bottom of the page!

I saw Servant of Two Masters at ArtsEmerson last Sunday, directed by Christopher Bayes. It was a fantastic production!

The performances, the mask work, the lazzi, all the details of the traditional form were so well done and the show was hysterical and fresh.

I adored seeing each of the stock characters so fully and uniquely realized by the actors. Pantalone was amazing with his ability to use extreme variety the mask allows. Arlecchino used the characteristic of distraction with such proficiency and delicacy, it was mesmerizing and hilarious.

The process of creating this show, I would interpolate, was through extensive research of the craft, then character development, improvisation, "scripting" of the improvs, and then bringing back the element that anything can happen at any moment during the performance. It had the specificity of great physical comedy, while not at all feeling contrived or put on. I was extremely impressed with the virtuosity of all the performers.

I also noticed most of the characters were on the balls of their feet with absolute focus the entire time they were on stage. There was a moment when some audience were distracting Pantalone, and he stopped and said to them "we are trying to concentrate up here..." it was a great rare moment, when you can see the deep work the actors were engaged with. Other than that, the whole show looked and felt effortless in its exaggeration and the flow of the physicality and musicality from one moment to the next.

One element I was not excited about was Pantalone's response during the late seating. He had a shtick he did with admonishing the audience - he said something about missing the whole beginning and someone (who may or may not be the writer of this blog) yelled back - well, do it again!! Perhaps he didn't hear this, but it went unacknowledged and it took me a while to warm up to him again.

He did, however, win me over with his commitment, generosity, and borderline senile ways which never lost status or power.

The show touched on modern stereotypes as well, which, because they must have derived from moments of lazzi, were pushing limits, vulgar, profane, and hilarious while never loosing their audience. The character were living in today's world, while still adhering to the traditional costumes, mask work, and physical comedy.

It was also whimsical, playful, and had a moment when Arlecchino ran into the back drop of the sky, lifted it up, and found his way to the other side. The drop fell and began dancing in a starry world with his love, until the characters turned into dancing stars themselves and drifted into the sky.

I loved the show and felt it was a great commedia production!

-Allegra


Christopher Bayes is teaching a commedia workshop in March - see info below:

Commedia Dell'arte Weekend

Discover the world of Harlequino, Pantalone, and other archetypes of the Commedia dell'Arte. Celebrate the vulgar, the romantic and, of course, the profane. Find the lazzi. Learn to bring the mask to life. Live fully in your body. Investigate the actor/creator. Take ownership of your work.
Admission is open to all students.

Instructor: Christopher Bayes

Saturday, March 16, 1-6pm

AND Sunday, March 17, 12-5pm

@ ART NY, South Oxford Space, Great Room
138 South Oxford St, Brooklyn, NYC

$250.00

To sign up for a workshop or ask questions,
call Virginia @ 917-533-1924 or emailthefunnyschool@gmail.com

$50 non-refundable deposit required to reserve a spot per workshop.