Departure

I'm writing this at 2:30 Monday morning, though I won't be able to post it until some time later as I don't have internet in my room here at Shakespeare and Company. This is my last night in this room. When I go downstairs at 7 it will be my last breakfast with all the people I've gotten to know over this past month. And then at 9 people will start leaving, going away to Canada and Colorado and India and New Zealand, places so far away and I feel myself aching at that thought. In some ways it feels like I've been here a few days, and in other ways I feel like I've been here a lifetime. It seems like it ought to take a lifetime to get to know so many people so well. I was shocked that I knew the name of all 40 participants within 2 days, but when you are introduced to a new person by staring into their eyes in the morning and watching that person's defense mechanisms slowly, thoroughly, but always with the utmost respect and love, get taken apart bit by bit in the evening, it is no wonder that I could put a name to every face so quickly.

We had a discussion the other night called "Theatre, Therapy and Theology" in which they were very keen to discuss the difference between what we've been doing this month and therapy. In therapy, you're working to find your issues and make them better. Here, issues are identified because so often we as people throw up defenses and roadblocks to protect ourselves because of our histories and our problems, and for an actor, if these defenses go unnoticed or unchanged, it prevents the ability to truly connect emotionally to your text, your scene, or your partner. But it's not about fixing these problems, it's about recognizing them and understanding how they help or hurt one's work as an artist. I have found things about myself that have thwarted me for years on stage, and I've allowed emotions that I've long suppressed rise to the surface and erupt through the words of William Shakespeare, and even though this hasn't been therapy, it has been immensely cathartic. And in the traditional sense of theatre, that catharsis is sort of what it's all about.

We are storytellers. We tell the stories of kings and bastards and villains and heroes because whatever they are, they are human. We all have the potential to be a lover. We all have it in us to be a murderer. What I've learned here is that it's truly the actor's job to find those places in themselves- to find the lover and the murderer both, and to tell that story. It is our job to resonate with an audience, to help them to find those things within themselves, because maybe if everyone can find the lover in themselves, they'll be more likely to love. If everyone can see their capacity for violence, they won't assume that all murderers are some diseased "other" and there will be a greater understanding of the nature of this darker side in all of us.

The story I got to tell yesterday was the story of a Shrew and a witty, albeit crude, Wooer. I got to tell this story with a brilliant actor, and we shared an honesty on stage that I've never experienced before in any performance I've done. It was incredible and frightening and exciting to go out on stage carrying the betrayal of a father, and with every intention of cutting someone down, to find that scathing capacity within myself and then find the attraction and thrill and arousal and love that came along. It was amazing to look into the eyes of my scene partner and see that same thrill reflected back, a genuine thrill that was not just Petruchio, but Scot as well, as I'm sure the excitement in my eyes was not just Kate, but Erin.

And for me, the best part of it all was that I just had fun. We began our scene, as all the participants did, by looking out at the audience silently, breathing them in and making eye contact, and as I looked at the audience I didn't think, 'These people are judging me', or 'What if I screw up?' I just looked at them, and then back at my partner and I was just excited to share the story.

This month has been incredible. I have learned so much about Shakespeare, acting, theatre and myself. A friend of mine took a picture of me last night and showed it to me and I didn't recognize myself- there was a lightness to me that I don't think I've had for many years. I feel like I've changed so much this month, for the better, and for that I am eternally grateful. I have met some of the most incredible people and I will carry them in my heart for the rest of my life. And I intend to carry the spirit of this place with me wherever I go from now on.