Turn That Thing Off!

Collaboration and Technology in 21st-Century Actor Training

Rose Burnett Bonczek, Roger Manix, David Storck

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2018
• ISBN:
  9781317196204
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Médias et arts de la scène
• Subtopic: Interprétation et audition

As personal technology becomes ever-present in the classroom and rehearsal studio, its use and ubiquity is affecting the collaborative behaviors that should underpin actor training. How is the collaborative impulse being distracted and what kind of solutions can re-establish its connections?

The daily work of a theater practitioner thrives on an ability to connect, empathize, and participate with other artists. This is true at every level, from performing arts students to established professionals. As smartphones, social media, and other forms of digital connectedness become more and more embedded in daily life, they can inhibit these collaborative, creative skills. Turn That Thing Off! Collaboration and Technology in 21st-Century Actor Training explores ways to foster these essential abilities, paving the way for emerging performers to be more present, available, and generous in their work.

Chapter 1

The Collaborative Gene

Doing the Digital Disconnects has made me see the world differently and has made my senses sharper and more childlike … I find myself more connected to the world and the life forces around me. The birds that I hear outside, the wind through the trees, the conversations that I hear on the bus and train are worth (it). I’ve learned how to walk and own my space without feeling afraid. I’ve also learned about being present and the truth in the moment and the energy that you can get and transfer to other people by being really present with the people you’re with, and why have it any other way?

“Collaboration” has always been one of our favorite words. When we wrote Ensemble Theatre Making, our primary definition of an ensemble was “They collaborate.” We are actors, directors, and teachers, and our philosophical approach to all of these professions is grounded in the practice of collaboration and ensemble. Collaboration is in our bones; we can’t live without it. Let’s face it; there are many paths to choose from in this life, but if you love to work closely with others, you’d be hard pressed to find a more rewarding field than theatre. This is likely the source of the thousands of (true!) clichés about “theatre people” being gregarious, open, empathic, and enthusiastic players. As teachers, we recognize the natural impulse in our acting students to want to collaborate. We see in them the seed of knowing how to collaborate. They come through the door with the ability to collaborate already within them, in their blood and bones; the rest is nurturing and strengthening that wonderful ability in the process of creating.

In Ensemble Theatre Making, we touched on the science and anthropology of collaboration, but after publication, questions about these areas stayed with us and we decided to explore further. We were delighted when the research showed there is a scientific basis to collaboration. It turns out that our genes collaborate with each other all the time. They collaborate to create what is called a phenotype; that is, our characteristics and personality traits that make us uniquely who we are. We are literally hard-wired to collaborate at our most basic cellular level; and so we nicknamed this concept “The Collaborative Gene.” It made complete sense to us that the work we do as theatre artists and educators stimulates and strengthens that gene, which, in turn, propels us to work together. Fittingly, it was during this research, as we pondered writing another book, that we knew we had to recruit Roger to join us.

As we continued our discussions, we began to talk about the Collaborative Gene as a little flame, burning within each of us, yearning to connect, to belong. We soon discovered that science had already coined the term “belongingness”; it is where “the self seeks connectedness and harmony with others” (McConnell). That’s what the Collaborative Gene does: it gives us the desire to belong – and how true that statement is in theatre. Presumably, most of you reading this book discovered your tribe in theatre. Theatre gives us a place where we belong and fellow tribe members to whom we are connected on a meaningful level. There are countless stories of students in their early schooling, all the way through college, who speak of finding the people they feel most connected to through their participation in theatre. Finding the theatre is a beautiful thing. Yet, without the people who make up the tribe, theatre wouldn’t exist. We find our people.

We enter this world connected to our mothers via the umbilical cord. Talk about being hard-wired! We are literally plugged in to another human being, developing and being nurtured through that connection. Upon birth, we spend the rest of our days searching for similar deep, profound connections. But without the actual physical cord (a biological connection), we are forced to seek fulfillment through collaboration (a social connection). From those early days of school searching for a buddy who understands us, trying out for sports teams, band, drama club, and so on, our need to bond is primal. What we find in partners are similarities: when we discover things we have in common with others, our sense of belongingness increases. As a result, we grow trust with others in the group, which, in turn, allows us to act bravely and with vulnerability.

Think about our lives as teachers. Where do we find belongingness within our departments? We search out the like-minded folks within our sections and begin to develop a sisterhood or brotherhood. At faculty meetings, we tend to side with those individuals we’re bonded with, and can sense the intangible connections among certain faculty. Our biology literally changes when we come into contact with a member of our team we haven’t seen in a while. We feel our insides light up, we may get flushed, and a smile erupts on our face as we are propelled toward embracing them. This is because we found others similar to us who are fighting for the same higher purpose. In our personal lives, think about the rich connections we have to those around us, even if we are not in pursuit of the same thing (i.e., theatre).

From our loved ones to the members of our local neighborhood, proximity and shared resources also bond us. Roger has lived in the same neighborhood in Brooklyn for almost 20 years. When he walks his dog, he runs into Juliya at the market, Barish at the produce cart, and Alex at the fish store. He is an integral part of his community. He belongs to it.

Roger

Early in my acting career, I got pretty jealous of all my non-theatre friends who were making decent money, and not struggling to make ends meet like I was. They were all off nights and weekends, while I worked nights and weekends in a restaurant until at least midnight. I missed out on all their hijinks. I also missed out on their medical insurance, paid vacation time, and annual bonuses. Doubt is an essential ingredient in every creative endeavor. But this seed of doubt, “Am I doing the right thing?” worked its way pretty deeply in to my consciousness. So much so that I left acting for almost a year and landed a job doing production accounting on Late Night with Conan O’Brien and production assisting on Saturday Night Live I thought to myself, “This can’t be too bad. It’s not like I’m leaving the business completely, I’ll still be around creative energy similar to the theatre.” The jobs were fun. The best part? I got to see incredible musical artists like Alanis Morissette, Smashing Pumpkins, and Sting perform. Plus, seeing the talents of Molly Shannon, Will Ferrell, and Cheri Oteri on a weekly basis was thrilling. But … I witnessed all these other people express their art, while I remained a bystander. After a few months, the ache in my soul and loneliness I felt from being without my theatre tribe outweighed the perks of television. I was out of place there, because I wasn’t doing what was in my heart to do – act. I didn’t last long, and some of my friends were shocked that I left such a cool job with great opportunity for advancement. My theatre pals got it. They got me. Barely weeks after quitting, I was in acting, voice, and movement classes at HB Studios. I was surrounded by strangers, and it was the first time in a while that I was happy. Their vulnerability, generosity, and risk taking were nourishing. These were my people. I belonged there. I haven’t strayed from the theatre since.

We have all witnessed a brave student take their first big risk in our classrooms. It changes the molecular structure of the cohort. They start to have the courage to share openly and personally about what they are experiencing, a tool that is vital for the growth of any artist. They are metaphorically linking arms, and their brains are creating new neural pathways to strengthen this feeling of belonging where the habit of trust is built.

This is the environment we want for our incoming student actors; an environment where they can feel like they belong. Once they feel safe and secure, belonging to the group, then the collaboration can begin. More specifically, what is collaboration for the ensemble actor? It is working with others in an open, cooperative, and supportive way toward a common goal. For actors to achieve this, they must be open, receptive, present, fully engaged with the environment and everyone in it, right now to fulfill their mission to live truthfully under imaginary circumstances. This is what we know as being in the moment. Scientifically, this is accomplished through the engagement of the Collaborative Gene.

When students first arrive in our classrooms, we assess their ability to communicate. After all, acting is communicating. Even before we begin their training, we are eager to know who they are, what type of student they’ll be, what type of personality they have, and how effective a collaborator they will be. There is a hodgepodge of factors that contribute to the identities of these young people, and these factors affect their ability to communicate and collaborate. Some students may have previous training, most have previous performing experience, and of course, we’re familiar with students who come with bad habits. There is also a range of personality types, from introverts to extroverts; from those who struggle with personal issues, to those who are fortunate enough to be well adjusted. Nevertheless, thanks to the Collaborative Gene and our many years of experiencing the range of traits that they bring to the classroom, we have come to anticipate that our students bring with them a basic set of social skills.

David

A large part of my teaching and directing is in improvisation. I typically teach more than one section of an introductory improv course each term. Performing arts majors are required to take improv, while students from outside the major are free to take it if they like. These classes are always a mix of the eager, the reluctant, and the brave. Some students have no performing experience and are interested in the course as a way to open up their creative self. I have budding game designers, architects, animators, advertisers, writers, graphic designers, photographers, and more, routinely register for improv. As you might imagine, many of them often show up on the first day feeling nervous and fearful. As I begin the first class, I reassure everyone that if they possess the ability to carry on a positive, enjoyable conversation, then they have all the skills necessary to improvise. After all, nearly all conversation is improvised. However, I point out, there is a difference between sitting on your couch talking to your best friend and being in a job interview. Both require the same set of skills, but one tends to be much harder than the other. I go on to explain that this course will begin in a way that feels like talking to your best friend and gradually show them how to translate this ability and improve their communication skill set to the point where they can improvise a scene or participate in a job interview with nearly the same ease. (Contrary to a popularly held belief, improv skills are not strictly comedy skills, they are communication and collaboration skills. They happen to lend themselves quite well to comedy, but may also be applied to any endeavor that relies on strong collaboration or clear and effective communication.)

When students enter our classrooms for the first time, they aren’t consciously exhibiting skill sets, but they sure are exhibiting behaviors. And, it turns out, those behaviors actually are the skill sets essential to acting. A large bunch of these behaviors may be directly related to the Collaborative Gene and our innate urge to connect. That is, the students walk through the door with them already. In a broad sense, we tend to call these behaviors “social skills.” For us, these behaviors include:

Awareness:

• The ability to make and keep comfortable eye contact.

• The ability to listen and observe.

• An awareness of what is around you, of what is going on, of the moment.

• The ability to focus on a partner.

• The ability to acknowledge.

• The ability to show empathy.

• An awareness that contextual behavioral boundaries exist.

Expression:

• The ability to share their own thoughts.

• The ability to initiate a conversation, even if awkwardly.

• The ability to be responsible for one’s actions.

• The ability to make and receive simple physical contact (handshakes, hugs, pats on the back, etc.).

• The ability to apologize, even if reluctantly.

• The ability to share and compromise with others.

• The ability to express negative feelings in a healthy way, with awareness of how they are received.

• The ability to be courteous and respectful.

Risk:

• The ability to be vulnerable with others.

• The ability to be spontaneous or impulsive when needed (e.g., playing a game).

• Having the courage to face the unknown or confront a fear.

• The ability to handle constructive criticism.

Levels of these behaviors vary based on maturity, and of course some are easier than others (it may be easier to listen than to apologize, for instance), but we expect to see a good number of these behaviors in abundance.

But beware: there are limitations to the Collaborative Gene. We are only hard-wired for the potential to exhibit these behaviors. They cannot manifest fully without being nurtured. Our families, friends, teachers, environment, even strangers – anyone or anything we interact with – can have an impact on the development of our collaborative skills. As we covered in Ensemble Theatre Making, a large part of the social fabric of our world is grounded in social groups or tribes to which we belong and that help us grow: schools, churches, clubs, teams, communities (it takes a village) (Bonczek and Storck). All of these groups allow us direct interaction with other people on a regular basis. We collaborate with each other, learning, practicing, failing, healing, and growing, all as part of the nurturing process needed for the full development of the Collaborative Gene.

Many of our students are leaving their familiar communities, all their ties that give them a sense of belonging, and entering into a phase of their life where they pretty much know no one. It makes perfect sense for them to stay connected to their communities in order to satisfy their innate need of belonging. They are satisfying this innate need to belong through the most accessible way they know how. In the past, we had to do that with letters or long-distance telephone calls. Now, a dear friend is only seconds away via a text, and seeing what loved ones at home are up to on Instagram or Facebook will quell the unease of feeling unattached. Any acting teacher in those first few months of training a new cohort will share how crucial it is to create a strong and healthy ensemble. But now, more than ever, it is vital that we nourish this belongingness early on. If we are asking our students to enter into this foreign arena of living life more fully present, less engaged with devices, they will need a safe and secure tribe to hold the space for the certain loneliness and anxiety that is approaching. That safe and secure tribe will come from nurturing a sense of belonging in all the individuals toward the greater good of the group. Ensemble exercises that promote inclusion, collaboration, and so on (Spolin, Boal, Johnstone come to mind) are fantastic for creating many skills an actor needs to thrive; and yet ultimately, most importantly, what their exercises are doing is creating the deepest foundation of belonging for all other work to be built upon.

Returning to our flame metaphor for a moment … If we move through this life solely by the light of our own internal flame, our view is limited and we are isolated. But if we come together, our flames create a larger glow, illuminating more of our world, creating warmth, safety, and community. We look to banish shadows, darkness, and the cold. W...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half-title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Student acknowledgements
• Introduction
• 1 The Collaborative Gene
• 2 The growing isolation of the Collaborative Gene
• 3 Impact of technology on collaborative behaviors
• 4 Why are acting students choosing to isolate instead of collaborate?
• 5 Rekindling the Collaborative Gene
• 6 We are the people to solve this problem
• Bibliography
• Index