o que é uma fotografia de cena?

A fotografia de cena está entre uma imagem cinematográfica e uma imagem documental mas é estranha, observamos uma realidade alterada, desconfiamos do seu sentido e do sentimento que em nós provoca, a foto de cena tem uma personalidade própria, um estilo pessoal, porquê? Não sei, sempre me ensinaram que na criação artística o importante é encontrar questões porque respostas certas não existem.

"Não sou o autor destas fotografias, foram os encenadores que montaram as obras ." Josep Ros Ribas

olhos nos olhos

Hoje foi particularmente estranho e interessante aquele momento de espera expectativa entre mim e a Sílvia. Interessante de ver tudo a mudar e a acontecer na cara dela. Algum prazer sádico ou de controle da minha parte. Pergunto-me se seria capaz de agir também assim c a Ana, com quem tenho menos familiaridade. Tive vontade de ir mais longe, de quebrar barreiras, mas depois pareceu-me que não havia patamar para isso, que estávamos demasiado em quotidiano. A energia para se trabalhar parece-me que está uns degraus mais acima. Onde haveria uma disponibilidade e um estado de alerta mais preparados para responder aos impulsos mais arrojados. Quebrar barreiras, precisamente. Agora, em trabalho, para mais tarde, com o resultado. Pois: - somos actores ou somos ratos?

" (...) foi um momento especial p mim, o fazer aquela cena Nina/Treplev IV acto. É provavelmente por ter feito aquela cena q quero fazer esta encenação, ou, porque eu quero ser aquela cena, ponhamos assim. Lembro-me de ter tido um prazer enorme em ser aquela cena naquele dia da apresentação e no dia anterior, do ensaio geral. Talvez até... nunca tenha amado como amei, naquele dia, enquanto fazia a cena, usando emprestados os motivos ou pretextos ou contextos do Treplev."

Charlie Chaplin no seu camarim

Ontem

Quem se divertiu no ensaio? Eeeeeeeeeeeeeu!

Sei que, do ponto de vista dos que se encontram em função, é uma abordagem um tanto ou quanto esquizo, e talvez por isso mesmo estava cheia de vontade de experimentar!

Como "espectadora" (que não o era inteiramente) pareceu-me bastante interessante os possíveis resultados que a introdução de um certo funcionalismo técnico, com as suas especificidades, poderá trazer a uma cena de teatro "convencional". É apelativa a construção da cena através de mecanismos físicos, práticos, e talvez assim funcione melhor o trabalho das acções pois dá-nos tempo de criar, mas nem por isso de pensar muito. Pareceu-me. Explicado soa-me a um cunundrum.

A recriação de momentos. A repetição da espontaneidade, que deixa de o ser e resulta numa cena fake em que se deixa de trabalhar sobre um estado e passa-se a trabalhar sobre a opinião desse estado. A ver se me consigo explicar (até para mim mesma). Espontaneamente, sob o efeito de um determinado estado, os acontecimentos são consequência dele. Quando recriamos esses acontecimentos, já estamos noutro estado e, naturalmente, o resultado continua a ser consequência dele, mesmo que estejamos a repetir as mesmas acções físicas. Estas vão resultar de acordo com este novo estado, logo a qualidade nunca será a mesma. Deveremos nós, na repetição, evocar o estado ou a memória da qualidade? Que qualidade nova ganha trabalhando sobre a memória?
O mestre Alschitz, no seu método do Vertical of the Role, explica que o actor, ao trabalhar o texto e o seu personagem, deverá fazer o levantamento dos seus ideais. A seguir, deverá eleger O ideal supremo, que está no campo divino, metafísico, e que partilha com o seu personagem, ou seja, um ideal que partilhe com ele (nada de corriqueiro ou leviano). É sobre isto que o actor dirige a sua criação. O objectivo é desenhar um caminho ascendente (vertical) até atingir esse ideal, como se todas as acções e palavras fossem naturalmente efeito do estado que esse ideal provoca, resultando numa estrutura que pode parecer abstracta, mas que é consequência da interpretação do actor desse ideal. É pessoal e não se prende com psicologismos nem estudos de movimento. É espontâneo.

Ele propõe um exercício de 5 palavras iguais para o grupo (por exemplo: criação, imaginação, amor, tristeza e solidão), para as quais este deverá criar, sem pensar (o orientador normalmente não dá tempo para pensar), 5 posições do corpo. Cada actor interpreta individual e espontaneamente as palavras. Cada posição tem um número. O orientador coloca uma música (no meu caso foi Jennifer Lopes!!!) e vai gritando os números, variando a sua ordem. Resulta num show de quase dança contemporânea, mas serve para perceber a questão de interpretar abstractamente (sem uma consciência que resulte do psicologismo da acção) um ideal. O actor não ilustra esse ideal, mas interpreta-o de forma pessoal, resultante da sua individualidade enquanto ser humano. Foge-se dos gestos universais, dos signos comuns a todos, das consequências do pensamento global e explora-se o auto-conhecimento pessoal de cada actor, partindo na sua espontaneidade.
Isto dava um rico ensaio escrito. Espera! Foi o tema do meu relatório de estágio, claro...!

No outro dia fui fazer de mim

Acabei por não comentar, e talvez não me estenda por demais.
Mas no outro dia, quando fomos todos fazer de nós para o Tiago Hespanha, repetindo as falas e acções da reunião da véspera, senti-me inicialmente entediada e a cumprir missão. Fazendo o melhor de que sou capaz, sempre. Mas em tédio. Profissional, e genuinamente aborrecida com a jogatina estéril.
Até que se gera algum à-vontade. De repente, nasce um "fazer de mim" mais franco, mais sinceramente como se fosse ontem pela segunda vez, com menos tédio e em repetição graciosa. Bem-disposta - 'Bora lá jogar, talvez faça sentido.
De repente sinto-me na honesta estranheza de um "fazer de mim" incómodo e necessário, toda verdadeira, toda falsa, toda anulada, porque o patamar é outro. Duplicada, logo anulada.
Será que todos os dias da vida faço de mim? E fora o prazer da brincadeira concreta (gira, e tal...), o que é que resta desse jogo de duplicação? (fora uma sensação de leve enjoo, um jacto de bílis espiritual)
Não se desenganem: gostei dessa tarde. E ainda não sei se me levou algures.

Attitude

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KqOpMl4HD2U

A ponte

A abertura do trabalho, o seu alcance, o seu alvo, a sua função - chegar lá, ao outro lado. Aquelas longas e prazenteiras sessões são produtivas. Faltou a consciência de uma intenção de comunicar para um terceiro elemento. Que está lá. É imaginário, mas trabalhamos para o dia em que vai ser real. E a doer. E é assim que tem de ser, a doer. Não no sentido de sofrimento, mas no sentido de uma intenção de efectividade. O objectivo é fazer passar qualquer coisa a alguém. Saber o que é que se quer fazer passar, como, quando. E para alguém que já lá está. Agora somos nós que pomos lá essa figura destinatária. Depois ela chegará, e nós vamos estar preparados. O trabalho é esse. 

Boa noite 

sobre 1ª experiência

É a pergunta que nos fazemos a nós próprios. É a resposta a essa pergunta que procuramos; neste caso, "- porque é que não estás contente?" na arte. Improviso fazendo essa pergunta a mim próprio em vez de "tenho de ser isto" ou "assim" ou "como é que vou fazer isto?" ou mesmo "o que é que eu vou fazer?" 

Saudações Trágicas!

No barco promovemos e instigamos a chatice! E o belo artifício! Portanto, o artifício e o chatício! Estou a gostar.

hoje estou contente

começámos bem, parece-me, estou muito contente:) 

Hoje deixo aqui um comentário escusado e sem interesse, mas é só porque estou mesmo muito contente com o que apareceu. Vamos por caminhos diferentes com cada um, contem com isso. 

Notes about Theatre

Jurij Alschitz
No 8. The Mirror of Mutual Reflection


There is an ancient myth in theatre that Personnages are living beings. This myth
affects an actor’s career and his artistic fate. The brilliant Luigi Pirandello wrote of this in his
plays. This myth, however, is not true for all forms of theatre. In the traditions of the Russian
school, the Personnage is created by the actor, the actor comes to the Personnage from
himself. In the West, this is generally not the case – the actor dispenses with the Personnage
and reinvents himself. Some have tried to create new combinations à la “actor-role” and
others have made deliberate attempts to separate them, “alienating” one from the other. So
what is the relationship between the Actor and the Personnage? What are the rules
governing their existence? The different interpretations of the laws that bind them are, in my
opinion, one of the problems of contemporary theatre, where performers try to act together
but believe in different myths and use different theatre structures. That is why I think it useful
to talk of the dialectical connections between the actor and the role, between the persona
and the personnage.
First and foremost, I think we must define the lexis we are using. That will explain a
great deal. In everyday theatre practice, we often use the following categories: ACTOR,
ARTIST, ROLE, MASK, PERSONALITY, CHARACTER, PERSONA and PERSONNAGE,
but do we always really know what we are talking about and what we mean? Take for
example the word role. This can be understood purely and simply as the French word rôle.
Or as the Latin rotulus, the scroll containing an actor’s cues. Or it could be an artistic image
created by the dramatist and brought to life by the actor. A role can be taken to be a
musician’s sheet music, as a path of words, emotions and actions. It is the essence of a
given idea represented in an artistic form. It is the growth and development of a specific
energy. Or take the word persona from the Etruscan phersu – a person in a mask. In Latin,
Persona denotes a mask, or a face, or a role or personality. All merged into one. Hence the
confusion.
When I work on a play, I always find it important to know how an actor will approach
his role – as a Persona or as a Personnage. It is the difference between these concepts that
basically defines my approach as a director. I want the actors to understand a persona as a
real individual, with personality and character, with joys and woes. It is there at a certain
point in the play and then it is gone. For example, when an actor utters the name “Hamlet”,
who does he mean? If he means the Persona who actually existed, then the stage
representation must reflect the life of that man. In this scenario, the relationships between
him and his mother, his friends, his enemies, the girl he loves, his father and so on will be in
the forefront. Some loved him, others hated him, he suffered from loneliness and the
treachery of his friends; in short, he felt real human emotions.
But if an actor sees Hamlet not merely as a person, but as the dynamic embodiment
of an idea, or a certain philosophy, a certain myth, then we must look from an entirely
different standpoint. He will focus largely not on the myriad possible manifestations of human nature, but on analysing a specific philosophical and aesthetic standpoint, the issues of life’s
unchanging values. This approach will endow an actor with the powerful energy of ideas and
myths. The “self” of a Personnage free to do as he pleases and the “self” of an insignificant
person. This contradiction between freedom of spirit and the limitations of physical energy
results in dynamism of action which, by developing an Actor’s personality, will propel him
towards his own ideal “self”.
I will tell an actor that “As a person, Hamlet is dead; as a Personnage, he is alive. So
the question is, do you want to take the living or the dead?” The actor must decide what he
will present to the audience – the suffering of one man or the suffering of the world. In
researching a Personnage, an actor creates the kind of theatre where there are not mere
“living” people, but also artistic images and other worlds. One might think that excluding “the
person” from the role may result in a lack of emotional diversity, but this is not so. The artistic
world can suffer, and love, and hate just as mankind can. The only difference being that
these emotions are expressed differently, incomparably richer, more powerful and more
varied.
A Personnage is a legend, a myth, a dynamic substance beyond the confines of time
and space. Personnages live forever and their energy is with us, communicating to us. Not
every character in a play, however, has sufficient dynamic potential to be a Personnage.
Some characters have mere functional roles, or convey a specific subject. The higher the
level of drama, the fewer memorable figures the play contains. Treplev and Shamraev in The
Seagull are real people, but Chekhov created one as a Personnage and the other as a
Persona. To take Shamraev as a Personnage means artificially “inflating” him, which,
although possible in theory, the role will not stand for. To take Treplev simply as a Persona
diminishes the role. An author always imbues a Personnage’s fate with the energy of a
special idea or a special myth. It is important to define it, absorb it and embody it on stage.
It could be said that the relationship between a Persona and a Personnage somewhat
resembles that between an Actor, meaning the mere profession or certain professional skills,
and an Artist, meaning a unique artistic philosophy, a special artistic attitude or a unique
theme in art. An Actor carries out another’s instructions, whereas an Artist creates and
analyses. The latter concept is more capacious, encompassing the ethics, the aesthetics and
the philosophy of an artistic personality in addition to mere professional skills. The audience
can always tell from the first glance whether it is an Actor or an Artist who comes on stage.
The stage can also be viewed from differing standpoints. It can be the place where
people are born and where they live, or it can be the place where ideas are created and
nurtured. Either theatre reflects day-to-day reality or it is a completely different world that
requires other ways of thinking and talking, other emotions and other ideas, a world that
merely corresponds with the world people live in.
Having defined the concepts of Persona and Character more clearly, we must turn
our attentions to their differing relationships with the actor. First of all, we should ask what
between them is constant and what varies? This question can be rephrased in the following
way: does a person move and the mirror remain still, or does the mirror move and the person
remain where he is? Clearly these are entirely different actions and have different outcomes.
Let us analyse a few different versions.
The first is when an actor sees the role as a man, i.e. as a Persona. In this case, he
will compare his own life experience and his own psychological abilities with the behaviour
and emotions of the Persona . This comparison acts as a source of energy and material for
the role. Such life comparisons provide little energy. Using the “Persona = self” formula, an
actor is merely creating a mirror image. The actor moves away from the existent “person” of
the role towards himself, towards a real person. The Persona of the role is unchanging (if we
ignore the changes as the plot develops); it remains constant and the actor adapts to suit,
just as Proteus would change his form. The acting profession is generally seen in such a
primitive light.
The second version is when an actor views the role as a Personnage. The
Personnage does not change as well, but here the actor is reflected by a special artistic
system and philosophy. It could be said that this is a mirror image not just of a person, but of
a system too. By reflecting the philosophy and aesthetics of the Personnage, the Actor feeds
on the energy of his ideas and philosophical views. This energy propels him towards the
Character. The type and power of this energy depends on the level of the system and ideas
of the Personnage, but also on the actor’s skills and his ability to “reflect” complicated
structures and adapt to them. To be able to create such a mirror image, the status of the
actor must change from an individual to an artist. The “Personnage = self” formula represents
a more rounded approach to a role in comparison with the first version.
There is a third version where the Actor and the Personnage are two constant,
unchanging and equal subjects. When they come together, we see a combination of two
equally important figures, somehow concordant and somehow close to one another, but at
the same time occupying opposing positions. In a single system we may observe two
independent figures influencing each other. Here the formula of “playing” theatre comes into
play, the “self + the Personnage” formula. Both are constantly seeking an object in which
they can be reflected, in order that they be revealed. The Personnage seeks its actor, or to
be more precise, its Artist. But the Actor/Artist is also looking for his Personnage. Probably
every actor dreams of playing the role of Treplev, but does Treplev want just any actor to
play him? How is it possible to deliver Konstantin Treplev’s phrase “This is my Theatre!”
without having your own artistic image of Theatre, your own unique vision and artistic
concept of what Theatre is? Even when there is no definite answer, it is important that the
question is there, torturing both you and the Personnage who has come to you. Otherwise
what could there be to talk about? Clearly this method requires above all else a well-trained
actor who can meet the Personnage on an equal footing.
In its endless endeavour to be reflected, the “self + the Personnage” system will find
its mirror image in the very mirror it has created – by acting. Both components of this system
emit and reflect light at one and the same time. Both the Personnage and the Actor are
objects of reflection and each acts as a mirror for the other. They exist as constant figures,
but when they meet, deliberately adopting different positions, they are in a state of constant
flux. They constantly change the angle and distance from which they view one another. If this
does not happen, nothing will be reflected.
To be reflected, to see yourself, you always need distance. You understand the past,
the present and the future better from a distance. You have to step outside yourself if you are to understand something of yourself. In the beginning, God used this method to set things
apart. Light from darkness, the skies from the earth, dry land from the seas and so on. The
sky has to be so high up in order to comprehend the earth. And only at this distance can we
on earth see the beauty of the sky. The soul becomes set apart from the body and at this
moment we discover what is possibly life’s greatest secret.
Similarly in theatre, everything is separate from everything else. The space is divided
into the auditorium and the stage. Time is divided into the time in the play and actual time.
And the people are divided into the artists and the audience. A Mask, a Personnage, a
Puppet – all this is created by distance. It is not just the distance, however, but also the
“angle” that is important and how the two figures face each other. Whereas in the first two
versions the mirror and the subject face each other directly, here the system is open. They
view each other sideways. This angle increases the capacity of the role and affords it an
echo-like quality, ensuring an equilibrium while at the same time creating a new, third
reflection of the performance. It is in this way that polar light is created, magical and almost
unreal – the result of a complex reflection off several surfaces set at different angles to each
other.
If we truly feel the actors to be alive, then I am convinced that the Personnages are
alive. They inhabit their own world, with their own lives and their own fates. As actors, we
inhabit a different world, with different lives and different fates. But they and we both love to
play with mirrors. To become someone else, to change and see all this with your own eyes.
And we do it for ourselves rather than for others. We need this, we need to change and turn
into someone else. To become someone else and at the same time remain the same person,
fundamental and constant – this paradox sums up the main energy of acting with mirrors.
Becoming someone else in order to understand yourself! And there is only one way to do this
– to be reflected. Both they and we are searching for something in which we will see
ourselves reflected. But isn’t the Personnage the best reflection of the actor playing the role?
Doesn’t an actor wish to play a specific Personnage precisely because that will provide the
best mirror image of that actor? If the Personnage reflects the actor, that is acts as a mirror,
then we must above all else demand absolute purity and depth from that Personnage.
However, Personnages place the same demands on us as actors. Pirandello wrote of this in
his play Sei personaggi in cerca d’autore. Actors prefer to perform roles that reflect them,
and Personnages prefer actors who will show them in the best possible light. Through such
reflections, both discover something new in themselves and, thanks to these discoveries,
they change, becoming “different”.
This, however, raises a question: does becoming “different” mean moving from or
coming to yourself? I consider that when an actor and a Personnage enter the stage in order
to become “different”, they go from one state of consciousness to another. There is distance,
a journey to be made. Each goes towards himself. To say that they “come” would be
incorrect. They “go” towards themselves. That is the acting’s destiny. Its eternal destiny.
In theatre you will often hear an actor saying “I performed as Hamlet tonight”, though
it is unlikely you would hear him say “Hamlet performed as me tonight”.
We spend a long time learning how to act as Hamlet and are completely unprepared
for Hamlet to act as us. But acting won’t work that way. Acting is always a two-way process.
A person is reflected in the mirror and the mirror in the person. The question “Do I write with
ink or with a pen?” doesn’t exist for me; “I write” and what is written “is written through me”.
These two absolutely different actions are in fact united in one system. There are many such
paradoxes in theatre – the unique nature of acting lies in precisely this paradox: the
performer and the instrument exist together in one body. The performer plays the instrument
and the instrument plays on the performer. The writer creates the image, but the image also
creates the writer. The actor approaches the role and the role approaches the actor. The
mask plays with the face and the face with the mask. The Artist performs alongside the
Personnage.
An actor must bear all this in mind from his first day at theatre school to his final
performance. As I see it, their co-existence on stage depends on the precise definition of the
nature of the relationships between the ACTOR, the PERSONNAGE, the PERSONA, the
MASK and the PUPPET.

Sessão de trabalho de 21-04-2009

Sou menos interessante quando tento.

Encontram-me no meu melhor quando não penso. Assim que a mente se decide a produzir, os resultados são na sua maioria aborrecidos, entediantes.

Não sei qual é "o meu teatro". Sou uma expatriada intelectual, sem identidade teatral. Mas carrego a minha herança, por mais frívola e superfícial que possa parecer.

A frustração de nunca estar satisfeita é uma velha amiga.

Agora deixando a literatura pseudo-poética existencialista, o trabalho do resto da Trupe diverte-me e sinto que mostro um lado menos bom. Gelo quando me dão tanta liberdade, que nem me encontro. Perco-me no que acho que deveria fazer e não faço o que se calhar me apetecia. Sou uma actriz, ou sou um rato?

Concretamente: what the fuck was that?

De vitelos e fantasmas