Tuesday / October 8 / 2019
Written by Emma

“How will this fadge?” I whispered to myself as I made my way to the programs building. Tonight marked a big milestone for me: it was my first time acting as a solo facilitator! The sensation could be equated to the first time riding a bike without training wheels—the action is all there, it’s just a matter of perfecting your balance. Part of finding that balance, for me, meant taking very lean notes and focusing on helping to guide the group’s activities. As a result, today’s blog lacks the usual quote-age that I try to include. Thank you, dear readers, for your understanding!

Folks were ready to talk and get to work. After checking in and lowering the ring, we agreed that we should do a quick, non-improv game to get things started. A returning member suggested that we play “the question game”. I wasn’t around the last time we played this particular game, but I was not to worry. The woman who suggested it explained the exercise in detail: the objective is to turn to a person adjacent to you and ask them a question. They, in turn, must ask a question to a person who is adjacent to them, and on and on. It sounds simple enough, right? In practice, however, it requires one to overcome one’s social programming of wanting (needing?) to answer a question when it is asked. If you fail to ask a question, or repeat a question, you are “out” and take yourself out of the circle.

By and by, our circle shrunk. Folks would get stuck on certain topics (“colors,” for example) and would ask the same question twice, thus being eliminated. As questions flew back and forth, I somehow found myself among the last three players remaining. Then it was down to me and a returning member. She and I shot questions back and forth at one another until I finally asked a question goofy enough to crack her up, winning me the game! (I chalk it entirely up to beginner’s luck.)

We decided to switch gears to text. We left off on Friday having read through Act III Scene 1, and after a quick catch-up for anyone not present, we dove right in to Act III Scene 2. During this scene, Hamlet is having a dramatized version of the murder his “ghost daddy” (as one woman has oft put it) described to him replicated in front of his uncle to gauge his reaction. Of course, before and after the play, there is gratuitous angst from Hamlet. So, essentially, this scene contains a lot of lengthy dialog and a play within a play. Super tricky to pull off? Yes. But were we goin’ for it anyway? You bet.

Almost every character is featured in this scene. We were a few folks shy of a full cast, so we broke down our reading into chunks: before the play, during the play, and after the play. Much to our surprise, we made our way through an entire first read in 35 minutes! This included breaks to summarize that were led by some of our returning members, but also included contributions from some newbies. One highlight included a returning member volunteering to read the wordy part of Player King (the actor who is playing Old Hamlet in the play-within-a-play). Last season, this woman worked incredibly hard to master her lines, and it showed in the excellent enunciation and pacing with which she read Player King. A few folks around the circle commented on this, and she smiled and softly thanked them.

It was time to try the scene on its feet. First, we discussed how to rearrange the room so we could set up a clear audience and stage that were both onstage. One longtime ensemble member shared a vision of having the actors in the actual audience during production, and we talked about some of the logistical challenges that could pose. When we had a good enough grasp of things for the moment, we got started. Our Hamlet stood by a row of chairs convincing Horatio to keep an eye on the King to see how he reacts to the play. During this back and forth, the actors stood in more or less the same spot. It seemed like they were locked in by the text, despite both having great experience and skill. Just as I was about to make a comment, another ensemble member walked onto the stage and opened up the space. Like a hypnotist snapping their fingers, the movement of the rest of the scene was suddenly fluid and natural.

The play within a play, in particular, was incredible. In order to pull this off, the actors need to be EXTRA dramatic about what is happening. Our Player King and Player Queen did an excellent job. Player King collapsed to sleep on a makeshift bed made of chairs, and the Player Queen dramatically fell to the ground when she discovered him. The overall effect felt very Twelfth Night, and it definitely got the job done.

When we finished running it once through, we still had about twenty minutes left in rehearsal. We talked about how the scene felt, and everyone agreed that it went very well. There must be something in the air, huh? Then we discussed where we feel the people watching the play (Polonius, Claudius, Gertrude, Hamlet, Ophelia, Horatio, Guildenstern, and Rosencrantz) would be sitting in relation to one another. One woman pointed out that Horatio may not even be sitting with the others—he is there as Hamlet’s friend, and is not necessarily part of this royal posse. Maybe he is off to the side, lurking in the shadows?

Another interesting discussion happened while discussing the back and forth between Ophelia and Hamlet in this scene. One woman pointed out that Gertrude is Queen, and as such, is an “ideal woman.” Her only statement on the play is that the “lady doth protest too much”. Ophelia sort of mirrors this sentiment earlier in the scene. While Hamlet is making rude comments towards her, she simply says that she doesn’t think “anything.” Could this be a statement on how sometimes these seemingly passive actions ultimately end up having dire consequences? This is definitely something to keep in mind as we move forward with the text.

As we did the scene on its feet a second time, the transitions felt significantly smoother. We didn’t need to stop and re-assign roles—people simply hopped in where they were needed, and the thing went off without a hitch. It is clear that there is a lot of natural talent in the group this season. The thing we lack, thankfully, is the fussy ego that so often accompanies such talent.

We raised the ring into a happy room and said goodbye, satisfied with the hard work that had been done.