Author Archives: Hillary Spiritos

Rekindling My Love Affair

I have always loved creating worlds. I enjoy coming up with ways to visually bring something to life so that other people can experience it and take it further. As a result, I love helping design, construct, and execute the world (the set) that will transport the actors and the audience to another time and place, taking everyone involved on a journey.

I developed this love affair in my freshman year of high school. Throughout my four years, I, along with five of my close friends, built and struck the set of every play and musical that my school put on. Yes, it was gratifying to see my work on stage and yes, the six of us that worked in the shop became incredibly close – helping each other with everything, academic and personal – but it was more than that. What was truly magical was the bond I forged with the set. From the moment my first screw disappeared into the wood, I was all in. The more work I did on a show, the more I became invested in the project and this feeling, the feeling that I was part of it, that my soul was in the wood, the paint, and everything in between, was like a drug. That being said, strike was always a time filled with sadness and mild trepidation, but honestly, that feeling never lasted too long. I was quickly overcome by the cathartic experience of taking apart what had caused me endless frustration and bruising.

I know realize that this love has followed me to college. Everything I felt when building the sets in high school is exactly what I felt working in the shop with Sonya and many other Vanya-ites and I could not be more excited to rekindle this passion.

Special Thanks

One of the reasons why I love the theatre is because it is, at its core, a collaborative experience. This collaboration exists in many forms including the director and designers, the director and actors, and among the actors themselves. Each of these combinations is integral to creating a work of theatre and yield beautiful, magical results that are sometimes unexpected and often greater than the sum of their parts. However, a collaboration that I think is often overlooked is that between the actors (or rather what is on stage) and the audience.

I have heard people say that technically theatre can take place without an audience. While this may be technically true (the key word being technically), I just can’t seem to wrap my brain around the concept. In my opinion, the audience is another character, no more or less important as the characters cast from the beginning. The audience breathes life into a play, bringing a palpable tension, excitement, and spark to the piece. Without the audience, the piece would ultimately become stale.

In regards to Uncle Vanya, I have heard that some found the doubling to be a bit confusing and hard to follow at times. While it is important to think about how the doubling concept may have been made clearer, I think that challenging the audience to think critically and differently is one of the best things a piece of theatre can do. The audience is smart and should be treated as such. To spell everything out for the audience would, in my opinion, be boring and a bit rude. Additionally, in asking the audience to take part in figuring out what is going on, the collaborative aspect is heightened and as a result, the feeling that we’re all in this together (a feeling that I refer to as “the happiness”) fills the space. “The happiness” creates an unbreakable bond between everyone at each specific performance and everyone who has ever seen the show – a bond that lives on, way past when the curtain comes down.

moments: the convergence of the head and the heart

If I’m going to be honest, I am really struggling to write this post.

It says in the prompt that my post should reflect on my experience in rehearsals and my thoughts on the production approach. However, as hard as I try to suss out how I feel and what I think, I keep coming up blank.

I think part of why I am having a difficult time is that my role is rooted in mechanics. I take down blocking and call cues. I organize, keep track of time, and make lists. I make sure that everybody gets the information they need and that what needs to be done is done and on time. I guess what I’m saying is that I haven’t really given myself an opportunity to think about the process outside of what needs to be done to make it happen. When I’m in rehearsals, I am focused on making sure that people, props, and lines are where they’re supposed to be. In production meetings, I concentrate on making sure that everybody gets all the information they need and that all questions are answered (or at least have been asked). I am also acutely aware that while I am involved in making the play what it is, I am not a creative voice in the room. I think the overarching concept of the show is provocative and engaging, the set and the props are beautiful, and although I have yet to see the lights or costumes, I have no doubt that they are amazing as well. However, my job is to try and make the execution of the creative as organized, smooth, and simple as possible.

All of this is not to say that I am not emotionally involved or invested. I’m trying to learn and expose myself to as much as I possibly can. I love coming to rehearsal everyday to experience and be part of the creation and evolution of Uncle Vanya. It’s just that throughout most of this process, I’ve lived mostly in my head and, as a result, have not given myself enough time to really process how I feel.

However, there are moments. Moments when I look up from my script and just watch the play unfold. I watch my peers dig deep, ask questions, and explore their character’s motivations and desires. I watch them challenge themselves, grow, and be vulnerable. I am moved watching them put themselves out there and work to navigate what it means to be human. It is in these moments that I get caught up in the emotion and spirit of it all and lose my place in the script.

It is in these moments when I understand why I do this. It is in these moments when I am reminded why I truly love the theatre.

 

 

 

Gotcha!

Watching the movement workshops unfold was truly an incredible and enlightening experience. From the very beginning, it was evident that everyone involved fully supported and cared for one another. Even when people felt afraid or uncertain of what to do, it never seemed as if anyone made them feel less than or incompetent. Instead, an invisible yet boundless support system developed, which led to the construction of a truly open, safe space. During these workshops, in that room, everyone felt free to open him or herself up to the full spectrum of emotion and possibility. Seeing everyone challenge him or herself, experiment, and find out what they are capable of, was mesmerizing, captivating, and invigorating. Over the three weeks with Kali, I saw everyone become more confident in themselves, both as actors and as human beings, and that was freaking awesome.

Now, I’m not gonna lie. There have been (and still are) moments throughout this process when I have felt overwhelmed and underprepared. Each time I venture into a new adventure with a new cast, a new creative team, and new expectations (both from others and of myself), my mind begins to fill with visions and scenarios of every mistake I could possibly make. Usually, this feeling would be somewhat paralyzing – if only for a moment. I would eventually shake it off and realize that all is OK. Recently, however, I have realized that these fears have become less and less frequent, which, I believe, is a direct result of Kali’s brilliant workshops.

While my body did not participate in the exercises, my heart, mind, and soul did. Consequently, I have internalized the open community I witnessed over the 12+ hours with Kali. I, like everyone else, am now free to take chances, explore, and grow. I am now less afraid of my “oh shit!” moments – times when I find myself on uncertain ground, afraid, and unsure of how to proceed. I am in the process of becoming comfortable living in and exploring the unknown and leaning into my fear because of the insane courage, generosity, and support you have all demonstrated over these past few weeks and the safety net you’ve helped create.

Thank you.

will the real audience please stand up?

I would first like to start out by saying how incredibly excited I am to be working with such a interesting, hilarious, engaged, and fantastic group of human beings. I can’t wait to get to know yall better and see you question, inspire each other, look inward, and grow over this wild and crazy ride.

Now, on to the play – I think one of the things that interests me the most about the concept of Duke Uncle Vanya 2013 is the idea that many of the cast will be watching other actors while the audience is watching both the actors watching other actors and the actors playing the Vanya characters. Trippy, huh? I think this will add a whole different dimension to the play, which is always exciting (and a little scary). I also think it might help the “traditional” audience members not watch as passive spectators, but rather feel as though they are an integral part of the play. I found that this idea was somewhat lost while watching Vanya On 42nd St, as there were so many close ups on the actors that you as a audience member forgot you were watching people watch other people. However, that made the shots of the people watching other people and the intermission jarring, which made it stick in your mind.

I am also interested to see how this show is lit. Will the “traditional” audience members will be lit and thus making them truly part of the show? Or will only the stage will be lit and in doing so create a more fixed separation between audience and cast?

rock on!