This blog is an open discussion about my process, ever changing ideas, techniques and approaches to acting, clowning, fight direction,
stage combat and direction.
Firstly, what is ‘mental rotation’? The most helpful definition
I could find was at Wikipedia.
Mental
rotation is the
ability to rotate mental representations of two-dimensional and three-dimensional
objects as it is related to the visual representation of such rotation within
the human mind. (Thank you, Wikipedia!)
Great! Now
we have got that out of the way – what does this have to do with movement
training? On a simplistic level one’s ability to see things in space is one
thing. But if we dig a little deeper there is a relationship between knowing
your left from your right and mental rotation.
Having a high
level of mental rotation ability has a direct correlation with being good at
sport. So, it would help the actor to develop this skill especially when
learning choreography or movement sequences. Why?
Let’s look
at an example to help provide a context for why. Often, we are choreographed to
do something on the right side of our own body. Further to that you could then be
directed to cut your sword (or a punch) to your fellow actors left low side while
you may have to move to the right. Complicating that you may also be asked to
move to the left of stage or camera left. It may even be your left-handed and
your fellow actor is right-handed. All these directions and orientation can
sometimes overwhelm some actors and ‘freeze’ their brain. Yet for others they
can digest the different directions and orientations in the blink of a thought
and just do it.
Regardless of
your ability in mental rotation or left and right differences, it would a be skill
to develop. Thankfully research suggest that this ‘muscle’ can be developed. So,
if you feel you do suffer from these learning difficulties luckily there are ways
to develop it. Tetris comes to mind even doing jig saw puzzles can help. Of
course, my old favourite has proven to help as well – juggling! These are just a
few ideas. Do yourself a favour and do some more research into further training
ideas and I guaranteed you’ll enjoy the challenge!
Now when I say drawing, I am of course referring to drawing
the attack. By way of generating an opening for an opponent to attack. Not so obviously
of course that you are giving away the opening but subtle enough to lure
someone in let’s say. What does drawing
have to do with the art of stage combat I hear you ask!
Before I answer that let’s take it back a bit. There is an aspect
of staging attacks in staged violence that always makes me cringe. The moment when
an actor ‘cues’ for an attack and the fellow actor is choreographed to avoid.
There is inevitably that ‘eggy moment’ where the attacking actor at the apex of
the cue is either thinking – “why aren’t you moving? I’m trying to attack” or
the receiving actor is thinking – “why aren’t you attacking I’m waiting here to
move”.
My experience is that the receiver is waiting for something
to ‘feel real’ (an attack that makes them feel like they should move), and the attacker is trying hard to honour the system
i.e. I’ve cued so you need to move, therefore I am not going to continue the
attack until you move. But for some reason the illusion of attack and avoid always
falls down in the early stages. There usually appears to be this stop start
thing going on.
To me this is where drawing can really help us. Let’s look
at a slash with a sword and a jump back to avoid as an example. As an actor my
line of thinking has always been put the focus of my work on the ‘other’ so if
we combine that thinking with drawing and I am the receiver I will already be prepping
my body to jump back as the attacking actor moves into cue. This means as they
hit the apex, I will already be jumping back thus drawing them into the slash because
I have created space for them to unleash and create a powerful slash.
Indirectly I am giving them permission and time.
I was doing a class with the late great Robert Macdougall in the early 90’s and he
was explaining a great way to work through the inevitable bumps and knocks we
get or give during rehearsing or creating choreography. Put simply: Stop – ask:
“is it uncomfortable or do you need to
stop?” To which the answer will determine how the work proceeds.
Ever since that class there are two things, I have been
curious about.
1. The creative workflow when making choreography or
rehearsing verses;
2. How to work out each other’s ability endure something
that is physically uncomfortable rather than an injury or potential for injury.
What I have grown to conclude is that a healthy version of
stage combat conditioning needs to be developed within the training process of
the art form. This will develop an actor you can recognise if the creativity
needs to stop because of injury (or potential) or can continue through something
that is uncomfortable. Because the nature of making art is that the answer to
unlocking something new may be so close and if we stop that creative workflow,
we may never know what we were about to discover.
Let me be clear I am not talking about being dangerous or
reckless or working through pain. I am talking about developing a training ethos
that recognises that bumps and knocks are a part of the work – sure we are extremely
safe that’s not what I am talking about. I’m talking about a well developed approach
to reducing a ‘flinch’ / ‘knee jerk’ response when in the process of practice
and rehearsal. That way actors don’t immediately pull away from the creative
process but rather, they remain present. Remain present and do a sophisticated diagnostic
around what has actually happed. This is of course also being considerate of consent.
When you are first shown choreography or a sequence of
movement – do you try to remember it, or do you try to learn it? What is
the difference between remembering choreography and learning choreography?
Surely in order to remember something, you must have had an experience.
If memory is the facility by which we remember, and to remember is to recall
something from our past: let’s call it an experience for the sake of this
musing. Then it would follow the experience is attached to the memory. So, when
you are first see / or are shown something you aren’t trying to remember it
because you’ve never experienced it.
This helps us understand and develop a better attitude and
approach to learning (not remembering… yet) choreography. Then the follow-on line
of enquiry lies with the question – how long does it take to effectively learn something
before we start moving to remembering it?
It may be more beneficially to keep one’s mindset in the
learning phase rather than shifting to remembering too soon? Regardless of whether
one is a visual, verbal, aural, kinaesthetic or a blend of all four learning
styles, we all take a different amount of time to digest choreography. It may therefore
be prudent to keep these two points separate: learning and remembering. It may
help to develop a clearer strategy on what and how you are learning through a
variety of specific focuses in the learning phase in order to help with the remembering
process.
Furthermore, even when we are remembering choreography in
the context of a rehearsal for example, we inevitably will be given notes, so
we have to shift gears back to the learning phase to re wire our neurological
pathways so that we adjust our memory (experience) of the choreography.
Also, in the mix is pre-existing knowledge of movement for
example you may already be an advanced combatant so some sequences, techniques or
moves within the choreography may be ‘easy’ however the combination presented
to you is new. Or you maybe learning choreography from scratch with no
combative (stage or ‘real’) experience at all. Either way it may help to keep
learning and remembering as two distinctly different modes and strategies to ensure
that you know when you are operating in either mode.
After last week’s class where we
had a great discussion about the role of the arch in the foot – I decided to
put some thoughts down. Which was fantastic as I had recently been pondering
the thought what or where is the keystone in the arch of the foot? But in order
to find a resolution to that thought I need to first look at the differences in
function between the architectural arch verses the anatomical arch of the foot.
The architectural arch which has
been around for a long time, used by the Egyptians, Byzantines and Greeks was
advanced by the Romans. The advancement was the use of ‘concrete’ thus creating
an arch that was able to bear large amounts of weight. The keystone is the last
part of the arch to be placed into position allowing both sides of the arch to ‘press’
against the other through / via the keystone thus distributing the weight
evenly.
(excuse my crude drawings)
Now let’s look at the arch in an anatomical
context. The foot has three arches: The Transverse (or Metatarsal) Arch, the
Medial-Longitudinal Arch and Lateral-Longitudinal Arch. On one level foot
arches share one key similarity to the architectural arch – strength. However here
is the main difference between the architectural and anatomical arches, the
foot needs to be mobile.
Obviously, the arches help us in
terms of balance but this mobility of the arch aids in the absorption of impact
as we move. The foot can make so many micro modifications in order to respond
to a variety of surfaces with the main purpose to bring about stability to the
upper body. As well as this agility in the arches they also provide a ‘spring’.
An absorbing motion as we step and thus propelling us into the next step. This connection
and flexibility across all three arches also allow for weight distribution and
thus absorbs impacts that would otherwise be taken unnecessarily into the knees,
hips and spine.
So how does all this help me with
my ponderings i.e. where is the keystone for the anatomical arch? Well two
thoughts came out of diving in a little deeper with my musings. Firstly, I
guess there is no actual physical keystone at the apex of the anatomical arch,
so I guess the keystone is really a visualisation exercise in my body mind. The
ability to visualise the arches working in harmony in order to bring about
mobility. Secondly, I was happy to be reminded of the triangle created by the
three arches working together. Any one who knows me knows I love circles and triangles
– two very strong shapes. This triangle allows me to visualise a platform on
the ground that permits me to see how the cohesion of the arches brings about
stability.
What is proprioception? Thank
heavens for Wikipedia! It provides a great definition!
Proprioception is the
sense of self-movement and body position. It is sometimes described as the
"sixth sense". Proprioception is mediated by mechanically-sensitive proprioceptor
neurons distributed throughout an animal's body. Most vertebrates possess
three basic types of proprioceptors: muscle spindles, which are embedded in skeletal
muscle fibers, Golgi tendon organs, which lie at the interface of muscles and
tendons, and joint receptors, which are low-threshold mechanoreceptors embedded
in joint capsules. Many invertebrates, such as insects, also possess three
basic proprioceptor types with analogous functional properties: chordotonal
neurons, campaniform sensilla, and hair plates.
The central nervous system integrates information from proprioception
and other sensory systems, such as vision and the vestibular system, to create
an overall representation of body position, movement, and acceleration.
The sense of proprioception is ubiquitous across mobile animals and is
essential for the motor coordination of the body.
Proprioception is from Latin proprius,
meaning "one's own", "individual", and capio, capere, to take or grasp. Thus, to grasp one's own position in
space, including the position of the limbs in relation to each other and the
body as a whole.
The word kinesthesia
or kinæsthesia (kinesthetic sense) refers to movement
sense but has been used inconsistently to refer either to proprioception alone
or to the brain's integration of proprioceptive and vestibular inputs.
Kinesthesia is a modern medical term composed of elements from Greek; kinein "to set in motion; to
move" (from PIE root *keie- "to set in motion") + aisthesis "perception,
feeling" (from PIE root *au- "to perceive") + Greek abstract
noun ending -ia (corresponds to
English -hood e.g. motherhood).
(care of Wikipedia)
So why is this important for
movement in actors? For me knowing where my partner is, where my props /
weapons are and of course I am in space is the basic answer. However, if I dig around a little deeper into my curiosity and ask why! That is to say why is it extremely important in my studies and practice to hone this skill. My curiosity leads me to focus on the words force and touch.What I’m referring to here is my grip, my energy exerted, my ability
at the very moment of contact with a fellow actor, audience member or prop know
what I am dealing with on a neurological, muscular and skeletal level. Why I
hear you ask! It strikes me that a large part of successful proprioception is
about knowing where your joints are in space and thus know how to make the next
move.
Let’s take a piece of fight
choreography for example. So, choreographically I am to grab another actor and
stage a certain amount of perceived resistance in that choreography (ie a ‘struggle’)
and then push them across the space. The moment I grab another actor I am
making so many decisions based on that sense of touch. I am using my nervous
system, to analyse where my partner is at in space but also many other questions. Are they balanced? Where is their
weight loaded? Are they giving up their centre? Are they working too hard? Have
they got too much energy? Are they too ‘floppy’? I would even go so far as to
say I could even read how they are going emotionally. Once I weigh up all these
questions and more – I can start to then move to my muscular and skeletal systems
to work out how best to move through the choreography. So, based on how my
joints are calibrated will inform how I begin to move into the choreography and
with how much force. The synchronised and effective use of hinge and socket
joints will be the key to smooth movement.
Maintaining and controlling
balance under adverse physical conditions can be tricky. There are some
opinions that the feet/ankle and hips can
deal with most of the demands on the body for sustaining balance during the initial
wave of physical demand. Then as the task becomes more challenging for the body
the upper body starts to kick in in order to support extra responsibilities
to get balance back under control. This is a great article that supports that notion. I found this
article great and some of the other ones it pointed to.
So based on this notion, here is my muse. What does an actor do when
their upper body is already engaged in other physical needs?
E.g. when both arms are welding two weapons, grappling or physical comedy. How
then does the upper body support re-establishing balance? Or vice
versa.
For me, the answer lies in the Japanese Pagoda. Its ability to withstand
earthquakes is a testament to its design. What a fantastic flexible structure. The
Toji Pagoda (link
embedded) in Japan is around 400 years old and has withstood many earthquakes
and storms. In the clip the interviewee refers to a theory: the “snakedance”. A
relationship between the pagoda and the earthquake. The “snakedance” is at the
heart of the image I use to harmonise my feet, ankles, hips, and upper body
during times of extreme physical stress.
The understanding that my feet
(see previous blog
about the three arches in our feet) ankles, hips and upper body work
as isolated sections within a global scheme is important. Developing a strong
neurological pathway through conscious development and training is the key. Much like the way
the joins work in the pagoda.
When I feel my feet and ankles being compromised then I ensure my hips and
upper body are engaged and compensating for the lack of feet and ankles being
accessed and conversely for when other sections (hips or upper body) are
compromised. The global scheme of my body is well connected I just need to tap
into it to maximise that effective instrument trough constant training.