Sydney Morning Herald - Interview. Friday September 23, 2011

http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/theatre/hot-ticket-20110922-1klqe.html

contrast & contradiction...

..... it is worth noting that everything we do in our profession i.e. sharing a story – theatre, film making etc is a contradiction. What we are doing is not real, it is not actually a real event, by this I mean we are dramatising a moment/s of life, yet what we are doing is a really happening – the whole process of making art is or rather could be debated as being unreal and yet real – hence my proposition it is a contradiction. My reason for bringing this up is because as an artists in this world, let’s call this world; make believe – in this world of make believe as an actor trying to make sense of my work within this contradiction I need to almost create a reality or sometimes I just call it “tricking” myself – I need this unreal world to feel real to me in order for it to make sense so some part of brain in order for me to have logical reactions to what appears to be chaotic and random.... to be continued.....

a shared thought...

The thoughts that follow in this post are in reference to my teaching of actors, primarily with respect to stage combat. However, my philosophical application of (and to) Chaos & Order and the discoveries shared below also relate to my teaching of acting, improvisation, mask, clowning, slapstick and an interesting class called ‘Creative State’. For the purpose of this posting, I shall elaborate a little on what is meant when I am referring to my methodology of Chaos & Order, and my recent discoveries in class and on the floor in rehearsals.

In simplistic terms, there is a relationship that exists between the two elements Chaos and Order. The basic concept of Chaos Theory is that random events have an underlying order. We can use Chaos Theory to understand more about how an actor problem solves or acquires and processes new skills. What appears to be a series of chaotic events can in fact have an order, something that I will elaborate upon further.

Over the last six months my process of Chaos & Order has taken on a deeper sense of application, learning and comprehension. It is worth noting my use of the term ‘process’: I am personally very tired of using it, but for now it shall suffice, and I shall save my thoughts on that for another blog. Although I feel my work is ever-evolving, I have been confused by my inability to articulate that development. However, I now feel that I can begin to articulate it, or at the very least, try and share it here.

In January 2011, I returned to my ‘mountain of contemplation’, the place where I am able to renew my understanding of my artistic endeavours in stage combat and fight directing. This ‘mountain of contemplation’ is the Paddy Crean Workshop in Banff, Canada, an amazing workshop held every two years, bringing together some of the most interesting folks in the movement and combative arts. Anyone who knows their geography would know that Banff is literally on a mountain. I have been visiting Banff for ten years and every time I return there I meet old friends, make new ones and reflect. Here, in isolation from the ‘real world’, I experience and discover new ideas, share techniques and take part in a cross-pollination of disciplines.  I find I am able to share my mythology with students, participants and peers. My mountain affords me a small window of time to really reflect on my process (ugh, that word again) and really call into question what I am doing, how I am doing it and more importantly, why I am doing it.

On my most recent visit, a friend of mine, Tim Klotz, asked me why I didn’t write more on my blog. It made me think: do I actually have anything to say? I felt there was something I had to contribute and I set about seeking clarification (for myself) on what it is that I actually do when sharing with my students in a class – particularly in reference to Chaos and Order. (I prefer not to use the word ‘teach’ – I like to think of it as sharing.)

Over the last twenty years of sharing, I have had all sorts of epiphanies, ideas, approaches, break-throughs and philosophies occur to me.  By in large, I over-complicated everything. However, in the last few years I have tried to distil my philosophies down to just a few concepts. Regardless of where my thinking has taken me, the driving question has always been the same – why do some actors pick up stage combat more easily than others? I am not just referring to remembering moves or knowing how to sling a sword or push another actor safely. I am suggesting a deeper understanding, one I felt I had instinctively. In my early days of teaching, I was unable to articulate and unpack this instinct for my students. Now, however, I feel I am better able to discuss my approach towards Chaos and Order.

An actor is taught, learns and then performs a technique. Let’s take the technique of a parry, a defensive move used in sword play to prevent an opponent’s attack from landing. Simple enough. One could even say a parry is just a parry. But what complicates the process for an actor learning to apply all this new information is all the variables that come into play as he or she realises that the parry can be used and applied to so many scenarios and contexts. Ultimately, it is a form of septic focus to only teach a parry, what is meant by this is that there needs to be a holistic approach to the teaching, a parry cannot be taught in isolation it needs to be taught within a set of combative principles along with the rest of the frame work that sits around the combative requirements and kinaesthetic awareness needed when and while performing the parry. There is the kinaesthetic languaging that takes place while performing the parry, the potential emotional drive behind it, the demands of the script, the probable costume restraints and so the list continues. So now a parry is not just a parry.

Humans are a complex system. We are in on-going interaction, development and learning with and by our environment. This includes the physical world and as well as other humans within that environment and we learn by that process and the interactions in turn inform new developments and new directions. In chaos theory, there is sensitivity to dependence on initial circumstances. A small alteration in the initial situation can lead to major change in the long-term behaviour of a system. The actor learns a technique – a parry (initial circumstance). Then the use and application of the parry occurs and deeper understanding ensues (alteration). This is finding order within chaos. Students are now on the edge of understanding.

Of course, at this stage I have only refereed to a technique in isolation. In reality, an actor will have to (amongst other things) use this technique alongside a series of other techniques and also deliver text, avoid trip hazards, work generously with other actors, be aware of lighting, work within the limitations of some costuming dilemmas, keep the action contained for various angles and shots (for film), be mindful of the audience (for theatre), work safely and most importantly, convey the story. In short, actors are continually multi-tasking and problem-solving.

While I feel I am able to multi-task and problem-solve while performing, I have not always shared this fundamental part of our job with my students – I was taking it for granted. While at Banff this year, I began to explore what was to become a breakthrough in my process and the relationship between Chaos and Order. I began to share this idea with Spencer Humm and together we started with some basic multi-tasking exercises to see how students would react. We set tasks that I felt were fairly simple – say doing two or three things at once. I was astounded at the small level of tasks any one person (generally speaking) could perform. For the most part the actors’ brains began to fry!

Since my mountain visit, I have developed a large range of exercises that focus on problem-solving and multi-tasking. The exercises stimulate both logic and creativity. For the most part, whether an actor is learning stage combat, rehearsing a script or performing a role, they are often in what chaos theory physicist Norman Packard calls ‘the edge of chaos’ -  a state of complexity that exists between order and chaos . I think the concept is very pertinent to what I am attempting to do when I place my students in a complex state of learning. The exercises I have created since my Banff visit, immerse students in a complex situation for a given amount of time to increase their ability to operate in that context. Students begin to see the need to compartmentalise aspects of techniques and develop skills to problem solve.

I am not suggesting that an actor be a multitasking guru, but rather that developing multi-tasking and problem solving skills is a great way to help an actor deal with certain scenarios which may occur on the job. I am attempting to help increase their ability to switch between tasks and deal with dilemmas in a high pressure situation. Here’s an example that has happened to me:  in the middle of performance, I began to feel the handle on my sword loosen. I had to make a series of decisions about what to do next, knowing that it could save someone from serious injury. This is why I am suggesting that the range of exercises need to fluctuate between multi-tasking and problem-solving. In a controlled environment, I am taking my students to the edge of chaos.

What I am hoping to achieve is that my actors can learn to identify when something is becoming chaotic and when things need to be brought back to order. I am also helping them become aware that from a spectator’s point of view, we may want things to appear chaotic - but we on the stage, or on set  must look for the order. Ultimately the audience members don’t want to see our homework.

to be continued...

Article for magazine - 2010

Hi all and welcome to my first blog... I don't think it hurt...

I have decided to share an article that I have drafted up for a magazine here in Australia. This is the full version of the article, but it will be cut down when it goes to print. So I just wanted to share it with my bloggers! So follow me and my blog if you want to, as I share with you my growing developments, ideas etc here at my new blog home - Chaos & Order.

 “Oh, you’re a fight director? What - so you do sword fights?” 

This is probably the most common response I hear to my statement that I am (amongst other things) a Fight Director. It’s difficult to explain to the lay person, even industry types, exactly what my job entails. So, here’s how I would like to answer that question.

In 1969 in the UK, a meeting was held by artists who had regularly been teaching and choreographing fights for stage. The outcome of that meeting was the formation of an organisation that would specialise in creating and maintaining a professional discipline dedicated to the development of stage combat and fight direction. This organisation became the Society of British Fight Directors. Since that date, similar organisations have developed throughout the world, including, in 1993, The Society of Australian Fight Directors Incorporated (SAFDi), where I had the privilege of serving as president for over a decade (1996 – 2007).

Until these organisations formalised the profession, most theatres used fencers to arrange fights. There was also a tradition of specific actors passing a variety of arranged sequences down through the ranks over time. However, the heritage of stage combat and fight direction can be traced back even further, to a man by the name of Patrick “Paddy” Crean. Paddy was an actor with a background in competitive fencing. He first began to choreograph fights for theatre in 1932 in England, also doubling for such stars as Errol Flynn, Sir John Gielgud, Sir Alec Guinness and Douglas Fairbanks Jr. In 1962, he attended the Canadian Stratford Theatre Festival where he eventually became the festival’s fight director until 1983. He also continued to act. I had the pleasure of meeting him in 1999; unfortunately, he passed away in 2003. Paddy has left a great legacy.

Today, a growing number of fight directors have their roots in performance. There is an increasing trend for actors who have been exposed to stage combat through acting training to continue with further study and go on to become stage combat teachers and fight directors. This ‘actor-first’ trend is creating a fight director with a stronger understanding of the function a physical conflict plays within a story - and moreover, how to achieve it.

I am an actor, clown, writer/adaptor and director. I believe that storytelling is paramount and that my work as a fight director should be invisible. is The term ‘Fight Director’ is potentially misleading. Often, I will be credited as ‘Fight Director’ and there may not even be a “fight moment” in the show, which is confusing for an audience thinking – where was the fight?  Or, on seeing this title in the program prior to the show, expect a “fight”.

A “fight moment” doesn’t have to be dramatic - it could be comedic. It doesn’t always appear in the form of a sword fight or a punch-up either. The range of tasks I facilitate, arrange, co-ordinate or choreograph is growing. With the increased requirements to uphold OH&S standards, our role as fight directors is changing. In my opinion, a well-rounded, correctly trained Fight Director is skilled and experienced in areas encompassing, but not limited to: director, actor, movement consultant, dramaturge, safety officer, historical/modern martial artist (eastern and western), violence (sexual and domestic) co-ordinator, teacher, slapstick adviser and weapons consultant.

Unfortunately, there is a lack of understanding from the industry about the role of fight direction in the creative process. Firstly, there is little committed development of stage combat at acting institutions. The fundamental skills involved in stage combat go beyond just knowing how to throw a punch. Limiting an actor’s training to just a few weeks within a three-year course is not satisfactory. Ironically, we would save the industry money if actors had a more solid understanding of stage combat when working on the rehearsal floor. Secondly, many companies still underestimate both the time needed to get a ‘fight moment’ to speed and the costs involved in ensuring that actors and crew are safe each night. Fight Directors are regularly the last creative brought into a process and they are given the least amount of time to contribute. Fight Directors should be brought in earlier to provide a costing (like any other department) about what might be involved. Then a strategy could be put in place that ensures a) a safe working environment and b) that a creative vision is fulfilled.

On a positive note, there are many companies and acting schools that are extremely supportive of the services Fight Directors bring to a production or actor training and these companies are at the forefront of understanding the roles and responsibilities of a modern Fight Director. Bell Shakespeare Company, Queensland Theatre Company, Sydney Theatre Company, Opera Australia, La Boite Theatre Company, Company B, Griffin Theatre Company, NIDA, Actors Centre Australia and QUT are just a few of the companies I work for.

Hopefully, this insight has given you an idea of how a qualified and experienced Fight Director can contribute to your project, whether it be on stage or screen. I welcome any comments or feedback you may have at smilee@combatcircus.com.