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In the Midst
What
goes through the mind in the midst of an intensive? Month-long
Action
Theater
workshops with Ruth Zaporah are generally comprised of four
hours of training
five-days-a-week, plus optional afternoon studio
hours for practicing, and myriad
spontaneous gatherings, cultural outings,
and social events that take up the rest of
the day and night
hours. We asked workshop participants in the February 2004 intensive
to provide a window into their thoughts, daydreams, night dreams, as
well as to share
with us what
juicy bits of wisdom they were savoring at any given moment during the
training.
Bronwyn Preece, Victoria, BC,
Canada
I drove down to Berkeley from Canada, in a van, fresh from the mechanic, made ready
for this trip. Once here, the van got a smack from the side. A dent. Next, a traffic ticket.
Then, the following week, another smack, another dent. The next week, I drove over a cat.
And then in the fourth week, the van self-combusts, ends up back with a mechanic, and
the story of getting home really begins.
This training has been a journey–a full-circle trip–doing my own continual re-fuelings
and re-toolings. I’ve sustained bangs and smacks with the forms of Action Theater,
plus moments of unobscured cruising. Within the pushing and prodding, I am ultimately
seeking results. From the self-combustion points and meltdowns emerges the true
opportunity for freshness and fun; it is that moment which keeps me coming back. The story is always just about to begin.
Linda Rodeck, Corrales, New Mexico
Acknowledge where you’ve been. Remember the time you had no idea who you
were, had no idea why this particular exercise had anything to do with anything.
Think about the confusion, the wanting to make things happen, the frozen
self-consciousness, the demons of a lifetime paying a visit at this most inopportune time.Acknowledge where you are. The simplicity of the mystery partially revealed,
the breath, the chaotic perfection. The right now moment, unlike any other, being
lived with bold imperfection and the grace of the Gods. Grace Totherow, Nevada County, California
Every morning I ask again, what is this we’re doing? Channeling the perpetual bombardment
of thoughts, memories, images through body and voice, a study of associations.
We’re grasping at ether then letting it go. With such structures we could smash conditioning,
break open social norms. Throw patterns like rolling dice, shooting craps in the alley. Loosen our hyper-grip on reality. We’ve often gotten frustrated, rubbing up against the same
characters, stories, voices yet not feeling sated, like we’d utterly expressed the depth
of the well within. That’s when others can come in. We get to jump into each other’s frames, loosen cage
containers, expand our range, peel back curtains in ourselves.
Julie Feinstein, Oakland, California Everyone expects that practicing Action Theater will turn them into someone
else–we get so sick of ourselves and our habitual frames–but all we really do is become
more who we are, become more fluid with what this body offers. The trick is to relax into
that and then nothing is habitual. We discover new opportunities, new details, new responses.
The actions are enlivened. Content appears precious. It seduces us. But the meaning of the words is not as important
as we believe or fear, at least not in the traditional sense, and not in this form. Words are
an excuse for sounds and energy to move. Language is just another action.
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