Session Five: Week 8

Tuesday

Tonight we read and discussed Act III Scene IV, in which Desdemona and Emilia first witness the change in Othello, Cassio pleads with Desdemona, and Cassio gives the handkerchief he found to Bianca to copy.

As spectators, we cannot help but cringe as Desdemona unwittingly confirms the suspicions that Iago has planted in Othello’s mind. Why does she respond the way she does, by lying about having misplaced the handkerchief and continuing her quest to get Cassio’s job back? “If you haven’t done anything, you’re not even thinking about it,” said one woman. Why would she be anything but innocent at this point? She has no idea how loaded this handkerchief and the Cassio issue have become.

“She’s committed,” said another ensemble member. “She’s gone against her father, she’s gone with [Othello] to war… Once you’re so far in, you’re like, ‘I’ve put so much into it, I have to keep going.’”

There were audible reactions when we read Emilia’s comment after Othello’s exit:

‘Tis not a year or two shows us a man.

They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;

They eat us hungerly, and when they are full,

They belch us.

It’s a feeling with which many of us are familiar. “They use you, abuse you, and then lose you,” said one person.

We talked at length about Emilia’s culpability in what happens, abused wife or not. How much does she suspect about Iago’s plot? Many ensemble members concluded that it doesn’t matter how much she knows – she clearly feels remorse for stealing the handkerchief, and she witnesses that theft’s impact on Othello’s and Desdemona’s relationship, even if she knows nothing else. “This is exactly like Romeo and Juliet,” said a longtime ensemble member. “All of those people – she can make things right at any moment and doesn’t.”

Since the next scene is quite lengthy, we spent the remainder of our time on an improv game. Although we’ve talked about the idea that improv doesn’t have to be funny, and often can be very serious, we do tend toward being silly in our games – working with such heavy material as Othello, we need some lightness. The game was going well – we were having a lot of fun – when some subject matter came up that seemed innocuous to most but deeply upset one of the women who was on stage. “No,” she said, knowing well the rule of saying yes in improv, “I have to say no to this.” We stopped that part of the game, and as she staying on stage, I watched her closely to see if I needed to stop the exercise. She finished, and then began gathering her things. “Are you okay?” I asked quietly. “Yes,” she said, “But I have to leave now.” Two of her friends who are in the group gave me reassuring looks and escorted her out, leaving the rest of the group puzzled and concerned.

“What just happened?” asked one woman. “Something came up in the exercise that upset her,” said another.

“Yes,” I said, “And I think we can take a couple of things out of this. One is that, if one of us says ‘no’ on stage or stops an exercise, we stop it right there, no questions asked. The other is that we all agreed weeks ago that if someone is upset and needs to leave the room, that’s okay, and we will respect her by allowing her to talk about it if she wants to and not asking questions if she doesn’t.”

The group still seemed uneasy. This is the first time this has happened this session, so it’s new territory for most of us. “Are we okay?” I asked. They responded that, yes, they were okay, just confused. We were out of time at that point, so we lifted our ring together and left for the day.

It was not an ideal way to end a meeting, but this is likely the first, not the only, time that someone needs a breather from whatever it is we’re doing. I think the shock of what happened is due to its occurring during a very silly game when we weren’t expecting any triggers, while we are all expecting to be upset (but safe and taking care of each other) while working on our play. It’s an important lesson that just about anything can be a trigger – we don’t know all of the circumstances of each others’ lives – and we need to take care of each other as an ensemble at all times.

Friday

When the ensemble member who left early on Tuesday arrived, I asked if I could speak with her privately. She smiled and said yes. I asked her first how she was doing, and she said that she was okay, it’s just a sensitive time for her, and it took her by surprise that the game took such a turn. I asked her if there was anything that I or the group could have done to handle the situation better, and she said no, she didn’t feel uncomfortable with what happened at all. I reiterated what I had said to the group after she left so she would know that she was returning to a safe space. She seemed at ease with things.

After our warm up, another ensemble member asked if we should consider making some topics “off limits” in improv to spare people’s feelings. She mentioned the specific topic that upset the woman who left early on Tuesday. The group seemed not to know how to respond, so I first thanked her for the concern and sensitivity that led her to make the suggestion, and then said that my opinion is that we should not censor what we’re doing beyond complying with prison policy – that we are working with a play that brings up all sorts of things that may upset us, and that we need to feel secure in taking care of one another and maintaining a safe space. “I’m just worried that people will get so upset they won’t want to come back,” she said. “I appreciate that,” I replied, “But I think we handled things well last time, and I believe we’ll continue to handle them well going forward.” I asked the group whether they agreed or wanted to discuss further, and they were in agreement with me, so we moved on.

We took some time to play a goofy game – we needed to lighten up! This proved to be a significant relief, and we were all refreshed when we circled up to read through Act IV Scene I - a very ugly scene in which Iago further manipulates Othello to the point that he beats Desdemona in front of others. It’s upsetting material no matter what your life experiences have been, and many in our ensemble have experienced similar situations firsthand.

One ensemble member, her voice trembling, said, “I really dislike the way Shakespeare has taken this put-together, articulate, respected man – and then he’s so easily taken in.” We revisited this idea that we all have at least one major weakness, and this play upsets us because we know how fragile we all are – we all have the potential to become Othello.

Another woman cannot get over how easily things go for Iago at this point in the play. “Iago does have this planned out very well, but he doesn’t have to work for it – it all just falls into place.” We talked about the things that Iago plans, and the things that happen by chance, providing him opportunities to take advantage. This is maddening to us as well.

Why, when Othello says that he will poison Desdemona, does Iago push him to strangle her instead? “It’s more personal,” said one woman. You can disconnect from poisoning, she said, “But when you’re strangling someone, you have to look them in the eye.” Another woman said that this is Iago’s way of driving Othello completely over the edge – he doesn’t just want him to suffer, he wants to destroy him.

“What does he have against Desdemona?” asked one woman. Several of our ensemble members have a theory that Iago is gay – that he may not even be conscious of being gay, but that his attachment to Othello results in overpowering jealousy of Desdemona. Others agree that he is jealous of Desdemona, but think it’s more of a “power thing” – he says, “The general’s wife is now the general,” and some of us think that he can’t stand the idea that anyone has more sway over Othello than him – so Cassio and Desdemona have to go, too.

“Once you hit a certain level of rage, it’s uncontrollable. You want everyone to feel the hurt you feel,” said one ensemble member, talking about both Iago and Othello.

After we read the part of the scene when Othello beats Desdemona, a few women expressed surprise that none of the other men on stage intervene to protect her. We discussed how sometimes when people are shocked, they freeze; I also mentioned that there have been studies showing that people are less likely to take action if there are a number of people witnessing the same crime. We also discussed the fact that there’s not much stage direction from Shakespeare here – it’s possible that we could stage this so that people do intervene.

Once we had read the whole scene, our discussion took an even more personal tone, as we brought our experiences to bear on our interpretation of this story. We find the play so terribly tragic because it rings so true.

“This play makes me not want to trust anyone,” said one person. “It makes me want to be celibate,” said another. “No,” said another woman, “Every relationship needs good communication. Othello never talks to Desdemona or Cassio about any of this.”

Does Othello have PTSD, we wondered? Is this the trauma that breaks him? “Every other area of your life can be going smoothly, and one little thing drives you crazy,” said one woman.

This, said another ensemble member, is how men are. “They hold themselves together so well when they think they’re in control, but when they lose control they’re a mess.” The ensemble responded strongly that this is not specific to men – “it’s a people thing.”

We all have the potential to be any of these characters, and as we progress further into the story, that is hitting home more and more. Our discussions get deeper and deeper. “I get why they [prison staff] want us to take this class,” remarked one woman, “I keep seeing myself in this play. I’m learning so much.”

Session Five: Week 7

Tuesday

We began reading and discussing Act III tonight with such gusto that we actually never stopped to play a game!

As we read, we pondered why Cassio doesn’t just listen to Emilia and Desdemona when they tell him that Othello is going to bring him back into his job – that he has to keep a “politic difference” because of Montano’s status, but not to fear anything long term. They tell him this repeatedly, but he makes a choice to continue to trust Iago, who does not give him information directly from their boss. The ensemble explored not only the relationship between the men – the trust forged in battle – but Cassio’s agony over his mistake, his lack of sleep, and the possibility that he is still drunk or hungover from the night before. All of these things may cloud his ability to make the right decision.

We also talked more about Iago – he’s got Cassio’s job now, and yet he keeps going. One woman said that once your pride is hurt badly enough, there is nothing that can quench your thirst for revenge – that he feels he has the moral high ground, and what happens is everyone else’s fault. “He’s got a victim mentality,” she said. “The more justified you feel, the angrier you get,” said another woman.

“He was passed up for a position he deserved, and it’s okay to be angry about it,” said a longtime ensemble member. “But he takes it too far,” said another. The first person replied, “I don’t know if he meant it to go this far – if he meant for someone to die.” Another said, “It doesn’t matter – every choice leads to something. All the choices we made led us here.”

We decided to table the discussion till we’ve read more. Because of the theme that is emerging of duality in this play, the ensemble is currently questioning everyone’s motives – we even began to question whether Desdemona means what she says, although I think the more we read of her, the less we’ll question her. I reminded the group that, prior to this act, we haven’t heard much at all from Desdemona or Emilia, and we’re likely to know them a lot better the deeper we get. At this point, some members of the group feel Desdemona’s motives are pure and from a place of friendship and/or interest in Othello’s wellbeing (she knows Cassio has his back), but others aren’t so sure.

Then we started in on Act III, Scene III, which is long and intense, and intensely interesting. Our excitement grew the more we read – this group is really in love with the language, and many gasped audibly or laughed in appreciation at Iago’s skillful manipulation of Othello – how upset he make Othello without having actually said anything of substance. Some women spoke of having manipulated others in this way, i.e., “Are you going to wear your hair like that?” Others spoke of recognizing this kind of behavior in others from their lives.

“He’s manipulating – he’s playing a game,” said one woman. “He’s planting a seed,” said another. One woman said she felt sorry for Othello as he began to lose his composure.

I hearkened back to one woman’s likening of Iago to a chess master several weeks back – of being someone who is thinking far ahead but remaining open to opportunity so he can react to his opponent’s moves.

That same woman likened Iago to Loki, the god of mischief. She strongly feels that, while he means harm, he doesn’t mean for things to go as far as they do.

We ran out of time before we got to the end of the scene, and as we put our ring back up, one woman said, “This was AWESOME tonight.”

Friday

We launched right back into Act III, Scene III, tonight after a quick recap for someone who was absent on Tuesday. We took our time breaking down Othello’s soliloquy after Iago’s exit, which contains a fairly complicated metaphor. We noted that he immediately leaps to faults in himself rather than faults in Desdemona to explain her unfaithfulness – that many people besides Iago have primed him for this.

Following our reading of the section when Desdemona drops her handkerchief and Emilia gives it to Iago, one member of the group asked if we thought Emilia was in on the plot. Another stated pretty adamantly that she seems like a battered wife. “If she was thinking, she’d think this was sketchy, but at this point she’s so broken she’s not thinking,” she said. We did note that she seems to feel remorse the moment she actually hand the handkerchief to her husband.

We made our way through the remainder of the scene – Othello’s rage and Iago’s continued and masterful manipulation of him. “This is one of our big challenges,” I said to the group. “We need to really understand what makes Othello go from one extreme to the other so quickly. Many productions break this scene up, but Shakespeare wrote it to be played in real time, and we need to keep that in mind. How do we find the truth in that? And, likewise, we need to keep in mind that, no matter how dark Iago’s intentions, all of these people trust him.”

“This is just life,” said one woman. “Iago’s basically tapping into Othello’s one major weakness,” said another. She spoke of his insecurity, doubt, and lack of control. “He trusted one person, gave away his heart, and she betrayed him.”

“Iago has been jealous of Othello his whole life, and now’s his opportunity,” said another. Another woman brought up that Othello’s insecurities may be rooted in the cultural and class differences between him and all of the people he deals with.

Then one woman said that, if she were playing Iago, she’d want to walk around pretending to be him all day – that she’d want to fully inhabit him 24-7 as a way of truthfully telling his story. This led to a pretty animated conversation about how that method of acting, while it can make for great artistic effect, lends itself to great personal risk (ensemble members brought up Heath Ledger as an example). Although our group is not an acting class, I felt it was important in this moment to explain the difference between safe and unsafe methods of acting, since this group is already diving much deeper into the material than past ensembles and is likely to continue to do so. This material is rich and intellectually stimulating, but it is also raw and emotional, and many ensemble members can personally relate to what some of the characters go through. It is of the utmost importance that our exploration and storytelling remain safe – that we continue to draw on our personal experiences to learn about the play (and thus gain new perspective on our stories), but that we not re-live past trauma of our own while trying to tell these characters’ stories.

As always with this program, I go where the group leads me. If we are going to get a bit into acting technique as a means of safe storytelling, then that’s where we’re going. We will maintain our emphasis on process rather than performance; on gaining empathy and knowledge rather than on becoming Actors with a Capital A. We will continue to take care of each other. 

Session Five: Week 6, Part 1

Tuesday

We spent a lot of time checking in within our circle tonight, as there is a lot going on with some members of the group, and we all wanted to listen as they shared. The support and strength coming from the circle were heartening – the willingness to listen, to offer condolences and gentle advice, and to segue into group jokes and more lighthearted talk that enabled us to move on… I was very glad that we took the time that we did.

We then finished reading Act II Scene III, intending to get it on its feet. But the group discussion surrounding the scene and characters was so intense, enlightening, and constructive that we never quite got there – and no one seemed to mind.

We talked a lot about Iago and our varying “takes” on him. Some think that he’s arrogant and out to prove something – either he doesn’t think he’s that bad or he doesn’t care. One woman believes strongly that his intent is to prove how smart he is. Then someone mentioned that perhaps he is “evil,” and the conversation took a turn toward the stuff that is at the heart of the work that we do.

“He’s NOT evil,” said one woman. “Just imagine if you’d worked your whole life toward something, only to be passed over and have nothing to show for it. I’d break down, too.”

“It must be exhausting, carrying around all those resentments,” said another. “This is me six years ago – I know how this feels.”

“How many of us have dated Iago?” asked one woman, and at least five others raised their hands. “I relate to Iago,” said another. “I dealt drugs, and I did them – I was always stealing from Peter to pay Paul.”

“Frannie always reminds us not to judge characters,” said a longtime member of the group. “Remember how a month ago I said I hated Cassio? Now I might like him. I might even want to play him… and I think you knew, Frannie.”

We all laughed. “Well, at first he can come off as kind of smug – he’s the Golden Boy, and nobody likes the Golden Boy,” I said, “But now that you’ve seen him take this fall, you can empathize with him more because it’s obvious that he’s not perfect… This is what we want to do - find our way in so we can understand and empathize with the characters – and sometimes that way in is through our personal experience.”

Sarah then said that she had gained new insight into Iago through what our ensemble was sharing. “Sometimes it just takes a person who’s walked a different path,” said a woman who’s been in the group for two years. “It is so strange, what you learn about yourself here. If you ever want to really learn about yourself, get locked up for a little while,” said another.

Another woman, who’d been rather quiet up to this point, said, “I don’t know… I really click with Iago. But, you know… I love like Othello, and I hate like Iago.” Many ensemble members nodded. “That’s the thing about this group,” she continued, “At so many points, it just shows me myself. I never thought I would be using this… but I use it in real life.” She elaborated a bit, speaking about using traits of the character she played in Shrew to guide her in one of her current pursuits.

We then branched off into a conversation about the influence of Othello’s military experience on his behavior in the play. Soldiers need to take their “fight-or-flight” responses and react properly, which often means staying calm while being on high alert. “It’s like being here,” said one woman. Another pointed out that it is selfless to serve one’s country as a soldier, and Kyle reminded all of us that, while that may be true, this isn’t Othello’s country – which other characters point out constantly – and that may give us more insight into him.

We briefly talked about Roderigo, too, as we ended our reading of the scene. Again he is ready to give up, and again he lets Iago pull him back into the plot. What’s going on with him? “Maybe he just has nothing to lose,” said one woman. This made a light bulb go off for me – when you truly have nothing, you often cling to some crazy hope. Maybe that’s the way in for whomever plays this character.

We are not even halfway through the play, and already the group’s insight is staggering to me. They are teaching me so much about this play, and I am so honored to be with them through this process. 

Session Five: Week 5

Written by Kyle  

Tuesday

Today we opened the session with a somewhat longer than usual check-in from the ensemble members.  In some ways it was a pretty typical check-in in that it ranged from the profoundly intimate to the mundane pretty seamlessly; every so often it happens that the ensemble is especially free with their thoughts from the week, and are unusually eager to let the group in.  To be perfectly honest, I forget how the story came up, but someone commented that attending drama school was like being committed to a mental institution.  The three of us facilitators, although we really wanted to disagree, knew in our heart-of-hearts that we couldn’t quite contradict the comparison.

The past couple weeks we have alternated the structure of the Tuesday and Friday night sessions.  Tuesdays we start with improv/theatre games and finish with Shakespeare, and Fridays are the reverse.  So after warmup we continued on with some of the improv games that we had been exploring previously.  Tonight we learned a new game, “Freeze Frame” as I had learned it in college, although I think we called it something different in the prison.  In the game two ensemble members create a scene based on a dynamic stance that one of the performers is in, someone in the house calls ‘Freeze!’ and then assumes one of the roles of the ‘frozen’ performers and starts a completely new and unrelated scene from the same dynamic pose.  It’s harder than it sounds, although some of the ensemble members make it look easy.  We did have to have a discussion about the very understandable temptation from the performers to try and make their scene funny.  They begin to hesitate calling ‘Freeze!’ when they feel like they are not going to be funny, or they begin playing for laughs instead of sticking to the rules-of-thumb that make for good improv.  It’s a difficult temptation, and certainly one that more advanced improvisers have fallen victim to themselves.  It is something that we have all committed to working on, and I’m excited to see how we all do in the future.  Of course now that I say that, my favorite part was when a company member created a scene about committing a loved one to a mental hospital by telling them they were going to drama school!

As far as working on the text, we spent the remainder of the session on the last third of Act 1 Scene 3 (the Roderigo/Iago two-hander for all the aficionados out there!).  This group seems to be very interested in the staging of the show.  It seems that there is a constant conversation about how the nuances of the text are going to read best in the movement and positioning of the major contributors of the scene.  It can be difficult for us to remind ourselves that we are not staging the play yet - that we haven’t even had auditions!  What we are doing is exploring possibilities, not writing anything in stone, but it gets tempting to slip into a pretty nuanced discussion about staging because it just seems to be where their heads are.  The director in me can talk about those aspects all day and all night, and it is tempting to not let the conversation go on and on; but I have to remember to continue to encourage discussion that explores the characters’ relationships - there will be plenty of time for staging when the time comes!  There was a lot to discuss, though. Many like the intimacy that comes out of the scene when the two men are sitting next to each other; others thought that Roderigo’s talk of suicide is a more literal cry for help, so Iago needs to span the stage, inspiring him to live on and ultimately do Iago’s bidding.  Either way, it was pretty unanimously agreed on that Iago was ‘in-charge’ of the scene - that the scene moved when he moved it.  A poignant comment was made by a member who said, “It’s like a cat and mouse game, except that the cat doesn’t just eat the mouse- he plays with it a bit!”  There was a lot to talk about, and three different couplings of women played the scene with criticism/comments in between.  In the end, there was discussion and revisiting from one of the ensemble members about how to give constructive criticism rather than being insensitive.  It was a fair point, and I hope it is something that sticks with the ensemble.

Friday

It was a very cold and rainy kind of day, and it was very clear how cold everyone was.  There was another group using the auditorium, so we were in a different group room.  The cold seemed to affect everyone. The warmups were slow, and the check-in was a little sparse.  We had yet to see the entirety of Act 1 Scene 3 on its feet from start to finish; there was a tentative plan to start with a full run of the scene, but we had been working on it for three straight weeks and there was a unanimous decision to move on to Act 2.  The ensemble was in the mood for table work, it seems, as we didn’t end up exploring the scene on its feet at all.  They just wanted to keep reading and move along with the discussion of the text.

The ensemble seems to have really embraced the careful study of the text for which the process calls.  It’s nice to not have to prompt them for questions of comprehension very often; they will just stop and ask, “Is Roderigo stupid?”  We debated that very question for almost ten minutes, followed by a completely separate conversation about what a person is willing to do for love, and at what point romanticism becomes obsession.  We were all, myself included, encouraged by one of the senior members not to make judgements about the characters and to keep reading and see what happens.  It begged the question though: what would need to happen in me that Roderigo’s behavior would make sense?

In the following scene with Iago and Cassio, the ensemble were really dissecting the scene - almost too much!  There is an attention to every single detail that is really inspiring.  In the scene, we talked about whether Cassio was shutting down Iago’s provocative comments about Desdemona, or whether Cassio was so much of a boy scout that he didn’t understand Iago’s provocation.  The group seemed pretty split on the matter in a really wonderful way; each faction citing their own experience and the text to make their case.  It became a very good theatre teaching moment; I was able to point out that it was a decision that was up to the actor playing Cassio to decide for themselves how they think the scene should go.

Following the discussion, we continued with Act 2 Scene 3 - Cassio’s famous drunk scene.  The room was alive with chatter, and several times I had to remind them to listen to each other and wait for people to finish before they offered their opinions.  By this point everyone was pretty cold, and despite the amount of text we covered, we still managed to finish up early.

My favorite part of the evening, though, had nothing to do with Othello; there was a moment when we were reading, and we all stopped to admire the sunset.  Usually we are in the windowless auditorium and don’t see the sunset.  It was a magnificent magenta that seemed to soften into lavender, and the later it got, the more the sky turned to gold. One by one we put our books down and looked; until someone abruptly stood up and opened the blinds to see.  We all stopped reading, and many stood up and went to the window to look. A few jokes were made about what went for entertainment in prison, and then everyone sat down again and we picked up right where we left off.  It seemed to just come and go and didn’t seem all that noteworthy at the time, and didn’t have anything to do with Shakespeare, but is definitely my favorite memory of the night.

Session Five: Week 4

Tuesday

Tonight as we waited for people to arrive, a long-time member of the group gathered those of us who were there for a “creative minds meeting.” She shared that she’s been getting ideas for how the characters in our play would behave from watching TV shows and movies set in similar time periods. She also floated an idea of recording some of the characters’ “thought” monologues as MP3s and playing them during our performance while the actors on stage do whatever we feel is physically appropriate. This is definitely an idea we’ll be exploring with the rest of the group as we go.

We played a couple of games and then continued our work on Act I Scene III (it’s a long one!). We are still working on the idea of reining in our enthusiasm so that people can be heard when they speak – there is still a lot of talking over each other. This is going to become increasingly irritating to those with quieter voices if it continues unabated, so we need to keep reminding each other to take turns.

We read the “middle” of the scene and then put it on its feet. Some aspects of it worked, and others didn’t. After a lot of discussion, I noticed that the group had organically done something that many directors are trained to do – they adjusted the set (a table and chalkboard) and our blocking to create two distinct zones – one for the personal drama, and one for the war talk. They did this without stating outright that that was their intention, I pointed it out to them because I wasn’t sure they realized they had done it – and these are moments that are important to note because of how much they boost the ensemble’s confidence and ability to take ownership of the material.

We continued to adjust what we were doing to give the right emphasis to the most important lines and characters. We discussed taking this further in the future, although we also decided to move forward because we are at risk of becoming bogged down in this scene. Our exploration at this point is so valuable in terms of getting us oriented to the play, its characters, and its themes, but if we get hung up on things like detailed blocking, we begin to get impatient to get through to the end, and we have lost members in the past who felt we were moving too slowly. Our goal is still to cast the play before the December holidays, and in order to do that, we need to keep pushing forward.

Friday

Kyle and I arrived just in time for check-in tonight. The ensemble shared news good and bad, and then we lowered our ring together and got to work.

We honed in on the last part of Act I Scene III, in which Iago and Roderigo have so much back and forth… and Iago’s language is so evocative and complex. Although some members of our ensemble were visibly intimidated by the language, we worked together to eke out its meaning. This led to a lot of animated discussion – what is Iago really talking about? What are his objectives? Why does he talk to Roderigo this way? “It’s like a chess game,” said one woman, “You use all the pieces to your advantage – even the little ones. People learn a lot about you from the way you play chess.”

We then turned our attention to Roderigo. It’s so easy to fixate on the main three characters, but in this play the “minor” characters are potentially just as interesting.

A woman who has been in the group since we worked on The Tempest posed the question, “Is Roderigo like Caliban?” Others who were also in that ensemble were perplexed – what did she mean? She stated that she sees Caliban as misunderstood, seeking attention, and savage, and she thinks there’s a touch of all that in Roderigo. “He’s not on the same intellectual level as everyone else, so he’s easy to manipulate,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” said another long-time ensemble member. “I think he’s just naïve – not dumb.” Another woman said she relates to Roderigo and thinks he’s more like her interpretation of Gremio (in The Taming of the Shrew) – “blotted out right away,” with no one giving him a real chance.

Another woman said, “He’s really in love – look at how much he sacrifices for Desdemona.” In the end, he gives all of his possessions and money in his pursuit – and ultimately his life. “But is that love?” asked Kyle. “What does he hope is actually going to happen?” This led others to postulate that what Roderigo feels is not love, but obsession. Still others came back with the idea that it could be obsessive, but could also be unrequited love. We eventually agreed to table the conversation for now, as Roderigo’s words and actions in subsequent scenes are likely to continue to shape our ideas.

We closed by playing our first improv game, and the game was “Yes, and…” In this game, every line must begin with “Yes, and…” in order to get us used to the ground rules of improvisation, which help us so much throughout the year. This proved to be a lot of fun, with some scenes working better than others, and some people who were clearly very nervous getting through their scenes without giving up – a huge accomplishment.

We all agree it’s time to start doing more of this, and we’ll continue with it next week. We also agreed that our plan for Tuesday is to put the end of Act I Scene III on its feet as many times as people wanted to (many of us are itching to play with this scene), then to run the entire scene, and then to move forward.