Session Five: Week 13

Tuesday

We began tonight by watching the Go Further video that was made about our program. We watched it several times (it’s brief!). I asked the group what they thought about it and how it made them feel.

“I think it conveyed a powerful message about this group and what we do here… I think it really humanized us as prisoners and it de-stigmatized prison as just ‘corrections,’” said one woman.

“I felt overall it was pretty cool – there are very few people out there who take a moment to find out what we’re really about,” said another.

“I get a lot of woman empowering from it. It made me want to stay in this class. I get a lot of doubt… I get that fear of performing, but watching that was empowering,” was another comment.

“It gives our moms and people at home some hope, knowing that their children can get help and find something they like when they’re here,” said another ensemble member.

At this point, we circled up to check in with each other. A few ensemble members shared some personal difficulties they are having, and some tears were shed. We made sure to be supportive, and thanked them for being honest with us, as it helps us to be more sensitive. One person mentioned that she had been having a bad day during our last session, much of which was a group discussion, and she wished she’d told us so that she could have been a more constructive part of the conversation.

After we lowered the ring, in the midst of determining what to do with the rest of our time, a member of the group threw down her book and left, extremely upset. After our initial confusion, we determined that there had been a miscommunication between her and someone else in the group that led her to believe that we were talking about her in a negative way when she wasn’t there to “defend herself.” This is not at all what happened, but the way it was phrased to her, with no context or further explanation, led to her feeling unsafe and upset. We all could understand that, and we spent a good deal of time trying to help the person who made the comment to understand what her alternatives might have been. The conversation got quite heated, and a number of ensemble members left to “cool off,” stating that they would be back on Friday.

In the end, I hope that the person who was upset will be open to an explanation of what actually occurred when she was absent and the unfortunate phrasing that the other group member used to tell her about it. I also hope that the latter person will reflect on what happened and learn from it. We can certainly make our space safe again, but it’s going to take work on each ensemble member’s part to get there. 

Friday

Meeting on the day after Thanksgiving was something we knew would present challenges, as it coincides with a visiting day. We were expecting facilitators to get through security a little late, and for a number of group members to be absent due to visits. Both of these things were true, so it was a smaller, shorter meeting than usual, but it was productive nonetheless.

During our check-in, we revisited the issue of how long this part of our routine sometimes takes. We decided to further emphasize that this is a time to share important personal updates (both positive and negative), and not a time for small talk or goofing around.

The woman whose comment caused an ensemble member to leave last time, leading to a discussion that made many people upset, apologized to the group. I asked her if she wanted to say anything else, and she said no. No one wants to keep discussing this, but we decided that we’re going to have to revisit it once more when more people are present to be sure we’ve all learned from the experience. I reiterated to all that, while being defensive in prison is natural, in our group we must trust each other and believe that we are all inherently good – we need not read things into people’s comments and actions, but take what we’re told at face value.

We decided to play a bit to loosen up and start the process of re-establishing our safe space. We played a couple of games, the second of which led us to do some pretty silly and outrageous physical actions. It didn’t totally work, though, because one ensemble member didn’t fully commit. I asked her why, and she said that she’s uncomfortable being silly – more uncomfortable than dealing with the vulnerability that comes with some of the darker themes in our play. We talked about pros and cons of being uncomfortable in a theatre game – what’s the worst that could happen, and what’s the best? I mentioned a quote from John Patrick Shanley that Kyle shared with us a few weeks ago: Theatre is a safe place to do the unsafe things that need to be done. We all assured her that she can let loose with us – we’re doing the same.

This bled into a conversation about how our perspectives on art change over time. “When art makes you uncomfortable, it’s doing its job,” said one woman. One woman said she’s been having a hard time recently dealing with racist themes and language in movies she grew up watching – she sees all of that differently now. She sees herself as a representative of her people (she’s a woman of color), and that feeling puts a lot of pressure on her “not to make a mistake.”

I asked if she had ever considered whether Othello might feel the same way. How much would a similar feeling drive him, both in the play’s back story and in the play itself? He is written to be the only person of color in the play – maybe the only person of color some of these characters have ever seen. How intense must the pressure to perform, to find a way to be respected, be? One woman mentioned that we’ve all felt that way to a certain extent – even those of us who are not cultural minorities have felt pressure as the only woman in a group of men to somehow perform better than they expect us to.

With this new perspective, we put part of Act I Scene III on its feet with our “freeze” approach. We decided to focus on Othello’s monologues. When we got to Desdemona’s entrance, we stopped.

“Othello is smart,” said one woman. “He uses what they think of him to his advantage. When you approach something in the right way, you get what you want.” The rest of the group nodded – we agreed with this assessment. Considering Othello’s status as an outsider will almost certainly be of great concern moving forward.

We raised our ring back up with a feeling of having begun to move on from a very rocky time. There was still an undercurrent of tension, though, as the woman who apologized at the beginning of our meeting chose not to participate in anything we did, either physically or verbally. I’m not sure why she made that decision, but I’m hoping when we meet next week she’ll be more comfortable doing the work with the rest of us.

Session Five: Week 12

Tuesday

We continued on with our “Freeze” style of scene exploration tonight, beginning with Act IV Scene II. After our first time through, I asked what we had learned. “We’re getting better at it,” said one woman. “We’re giving each other more time to play, but we’re also taking the time to feel out each other’s energy. We’re slowly getting better.”

“I’m trying to read all the parts,” said another woman, “But I also want other people in there.” Sarah responded that that sentiment is both generous and brave – to know that, however much we as individuals want to get up every single time, it’s best for the ensemble if we encourage others to do so as well.

Kyle had gone in as Desdemona for part of the scene, and we asked him how that felt. We had all agreed that, since we all take each other seriously playing men, we shouldn’t have an issue taking Kyle seriously if he read a female character. “I felt vulnerable playing Desdemona,” he said. “I felt… embarrassed in front of you guys, which surprised me.” Everyone reassured him that he had no reason to be embarrassed – that we enjoyed his interpretation of Desdemona and welcomed him to continue to read the women in the play if he wants to.

“I know what you mean, though, about feeling embarrassed,” said one woman. “I haven’t read any female characters, and I don’t think I’m going to. I know I’m a woman and everything, but I feel more like a guy, and I know how you feel, Kyle. It’s hard to explain, but it’s hard for me, and I feel really vulnerable and embarrassed, too, when I play a woman. I know I can do anything I put my mind to, but…” The ensemble made sure she knew that we will never “make” her doing anything she’s uncomfortable with – if she only wants to read the male characters, no one has a problem with that.

We continued to talk about how Kyle being male changes the dynamic for us at times. “It changed things when I played the Bianca scene and was yelling at Kyle as Cassio,” said one woman. “When it’s all women, no matter what, I always know it’s all women. You can’t get much closer to a man than Kyle,” she joked, and we all laughed. “But it brought up different feelings from when I play scenes with other women.” Kyle mentioned that he’s been hesitant to read Othello in the abusive scenes, and, while many members of the group hadn’t thought about how it might change things for a man to read those lines in our group setting, they said that they appreciated his concern and agreed that it’s best that he continue not to (potentially) rock the boat in that way.

We talked a bit about the end of this scene, in which Iago convinces Roderigo (with ease) to kill Cassio. We’re interested in how this relationship evolves, and how Roderigo gets to this point. “If someone you know is going further than you normally would, you’re likely to go further, too. What seemed outrageous now isn’t,” said one woman. “Roderigo has now invested so much that he can’t walk away from this plot,” said another woman. “He’s in too deep.”

We did the scene this way again, this time challenging ourselves to stay in a “ready” posture while seated, trying to breath with each other and sustain the emotional energy of the scene. We were very successful at this, and it was invigorating. “It’s so entertaining,” said one woman, “I love how everyone has a different perspective on these characters, but it still flows.” We talked specifically about the different takes on Desdemona we saw – one woman focusing on her sweetness, her innocence, and another taking a more earthy, aggressive approach. “I see Desdemona as a strong woman,” that ensemble member said. “She’s loving, but she has a voice.”

We moved on to Act IV Scene III, most of which is an intimate scene between Desdemona and Emilia. It took quite awhile for anyone to tag out the two women who were up first – we were quite taken with what they were doing, and no one wanted to interrupt. I asked, afterward, how they felt. “I felt helpless,” said the woman who read Emilia. “I would be really uncomfortable if this was real. I’m just not that nurturing, I guess. I’d want to make her leave – I’d want tie her up and drag her away, but I can’t… I couldn’t do enough. I wasn’t doing enough.” Interestingly, though she felt so intensely uncomfortable, the way she played the scene was totally believable to all of us – we loved her take on it and thought that perhaps Emilia is extremely uncomfortable in the scene.

The woman who read Desdemona said that she felt helpless in the scene – that all she wanted was for Othello to believe her, and she couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t. “I’m in my own little world,” she said, “They’re in the scene together… but they’re not in the scene together.”

“It’s really uncomfortable as an audience member,” said one woman. “You just want to make it stop.”

We talked more about the two women, alone in this scene. Is Emilia venting; projecting her own experiences onto Desdemona? And what about Desdemona? Is she capitulating here? Is she weak? Or is it more complicated than that?

“She’s preparing to finish this out with her husband,” one woman said adamantly. “She knows that in the end there will only be truth… And that her dying is how that truth will come out. She’s preparing herself for death. If you know you’re about to die and you prepare yourself in an honorable way, that’s strong. In her ‘weakness,’ she is strong.”

Others feel Desdemona is dying for love, or sacrificing herself to free Othello from his jealous “madness.” Still others feel that she’s just completely broken at this point and can’t fight anymore. As with so many meetings of our group, we ended acknowledging that all of these differing interpretations hold truth, and no matter where we land, we are not likely to be unanimous in our interpretation. But that’s something we all value about what we do, and, of course, about these plays.

Friday

At the beginning of tonight’s session, an ensemble member shared with me that she and a few others were having some challenges in the group – things they perceived to be going on that undermined our feeling of ensemble. I asked her to consider an open circle conversation rather than continuing to let any ill feeling fester – these are always challenging conversations to have, but we do better when we “air grievances” in a constructive way than when we try to ignore them.

This led to a very long conversation, which was constructive at some times and not so much at others. There are some members of the group who have more experience with peaceful conflict resolution than others, and we kept coming back to our core values: listening, respect, and open communication. Things that had been done or said by some were revealed to have had different intentions than what came through, and we agreed as a group that we need to work toward taking people at their word when they tell us that we misinterpreted their words or actions. We also agreed to continue to work on the words we choose to use with one another in moments of heightened emotion, to try very hard not to interrupt, to be conscious of ways in which our behavior (down to posture and facial expressions) might be misinterpreted, and to be open to constructive criticism from the ensemble.

As the conversation appeared to run out of steam, and we began trying to figure out how to transition, one woman nudged another and said, “Do it.” The second woman said, “Oh, no, I don’t know.” Well, that intrigued all of us – what was going on here? “She memorized Emilia’s monologue,” the first woman said. “I want her to do it for the group.” We all cheered this on, but the second woman blushed and said she was too nervous. “I’ll do it if you will!” I volunteered. This helped motivate her to get up and do the monologue. As she did, the energy in the room shifted. We were all with her, 100%, as she struggled to find lines and land intentions. When she finished, we burst into applause. “I messed up so much!” she said. “It doesn’t matter!” we replied. We loved what she had done – learning the piece just for the sake of doing it, and then sharing it with us at a moment when we really needed a jolt of positive energy.

“Your turn,” she said, turning to me. I then did an Iago piece that I had learned for my visit several weeks ago to Shakespeare Behind Bars in western Michigan. The group gave me a lot of support for it, even though I rushed it a bit and skipped over some lines.

And this led us into what I guess I’d call a “jam,” as ensemble members encouraged each other to pop up and share whatever they wanted. One ensemble member has begun learning an Othello monologue, which she shared with us, and we loved. Kyle shared his “go-to” Shakespeare soliloquy, while others shared pieces they’ve done in the past, and one woman shared a poem that inspires her. Still others got up and did one-person versions of scenes from movies, and others did scenes from Othello with scripts in their hands.

We checked in before we left, and some members of the group still felt uncomfortable from our conversation, but they understood why it was important to have. Kyle and I agreed as we walked out that, while the conversation itself could have been more constructive and less heated, leaving people less “put off” at the end, in the scheme of things it was beneficial simply to have the conversation. We can only get better at these skills by practicing them, and sometimes that means we fail a bit. It won’t be the last contentious discussion we need to have as a group; the hope is that the next one will go a little better.

Session Five: Week 11

Tuesday

We were thrilled tonight to welcome actress Dani Cochrane as a visitor to our group. Some time ago, I asked the ensemble if they’d be interested in bringing in visitors who have worked on Othello in the past to get a different perspective, and we were very happy that Dani, who recently played Emilia at the Hilberry Theatre, was available to join us.

We welcomed her, bringing her into the circle and asking her some questions right off the bat about the character. Many of us were interested in hearing Dani’s interpretation of how much Emilia knows and when she knows it. She believes that, while Emilia may not be totally innocent, given her theft of the handkerchief and silent observance of its aftermath, she doesn’t realize what’s truly happened until she sees Desdemona dead. Most of the ensemble members seem to be coming to this same conclusion, although we’re definitely still in the exploratory stage.

We then worked on Act III Scene IV – we’ve decided that, having read the entire play in order, we don’t need to explore the scenes that way. After we went through the scene once, the woman who read Othello apologized to the woman reading Desdemona, thinking she’d scared her.

But that’s appropriate for the scene, the group countered. The woman playing Desdemona remarked that the first time her husband yelled at her, she got scared and jumped the same way she did on stage, and since it fit the scene well, she didn’t see any need for her scene partner to apologize. We talked about this particular challenge – that in order to tell our story truthfully, we will have to treat each other on stage in ways we never would in “real life” – we need to continue to maintain our safe space, knowing that what happens on stage stays there, and that we can explore those darker emotions knowing that we will come back to our caring ensemble.

The woman who read Emilia had done a very interesting thing – she made a decision to sweep with a mimed broom through most of the scene because she had so few lines. We applauded this decision to find an activity, but noted that it kept her from listening as much as she could have, and it had potential to be distracting. We encouraged her to find a subtler activity that would enable her to participate more in the scene between Desdemona and Othello through listening. We wanted to see what that would do to Emilia.

We found that the next time through gained depth, as everyone listened to each other a little more and found their feet more firmly in the scene. Then we switched it up so more people could have a chance to explore.

Our second Othello committed even more to Othello’s anger – she actually stopped for a moment to apologize, and we all excitedly encouraged her NOT to apologize – to keep going with it! Afterward, the second Desdemona said that this Othello’s increased intensity made her think more about what she should be doing. She felt that she didn’t need to move, and maybe she shouldn’t. We also noticed that the second Emilia had somehow managed to move from one part of the stage to another without any of us noticing – something Dani called “floating” and said was a very important aspect of playing Emilia when she did it.

We tried the scene again, with more movement from Othello (and no apologies this time!), and new things tried by the rest of us (I was reading Cassio). When we finished and checked in with each other, the woman reading Desdemona said, “There were moments when I tingled… I just want to know the lines so I can really do it.”

We asked Dani a few more questions before we disbanded for the evening, and getting her take on some other aspects of the play – audience involvement, Desdemona’s foreshadowing – was really great. The group seemed to really enjoy and value her input, and Dani shared with me that it was a wonderful evening for her, too.

Friday

We began the evening with a lengthy but productive circle discussion about how we want to handle guest visits and adding co-facilitators in the future. We haven’t arrived at any conclusions yet, but given we are not unanimous, it was an important conversation to have and to continue. We’re going to give ourselves some time to ruminate and continue to discuss before making any decisions.

And then we decided to try something completely new. We took Act IV Scene I, and we played “Freeze” with it. “Freeze” is an improv game in which, during a scene, one of the ensemble members shouts, “freeze,” tags one actor out, and takes her place, creating a completely new scene from the same physical position. In this case, though, we altered it so that we would simply take over the scene from each other whenever we felt moved to do so. As we were in a classroom and already seated in a circle, we decided to work in the round and not worry so much about our presentation of the scene – to just feel our way through it.

This turned out to be a great exercise, and one we’re likely to revisit regularly. We found that approaching the scene for the first time on its feet in this way took pressure off of us and allowed us to work together more as a group – to sense when someone wanted to be taken out of the scene and jump in, or to know that you wouldn’t be “taking opportunity away” from someone else if you jumped in because no one was going to stay in for the whole scene. Working in the round gave us a different perspective, too – it made us feel at once more confined and safer when we were on our feet (interesting when working on a play like this), and it helped us focus on each other and not a potential audience (process over product!).

The woman who first was on her feet for Othello’s “trance” or “fit” chose not to have a seizure, but to sink into a chair, totally shut down. At that point, I was on my feet as Iago, and it made me feel that much colder and more spiteful that I could wave my hand in front of her face while taunting her, knowing she wasn’t truly there. Many people in the group liked her interpretation. “Well, I’ve been there,” she said wryly.

Several people read both Othello and Desdemona in this scene, and it gave them insight. “I went from angry to vulnerable,” said one. “It was like two sides of the same coin,” said another. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.” We also all loved an ensemble member’s take on Bianca – it was so truthful that we all felt like we know that woman – we’ve seen that before!

We decided to do it again, tagging each other out more frequently but also trying to commit more to sustaining the energy of the scene as we switched on and off. We were able to do this to a certain extent, although we weren’t totally successful – and that’s okay. We work to preserve an atmosphere where we don’t need to succeed all the time, and we all dug into talking more about the exercise after the scene concluded.

There are pros and cons to this approach, we decided. When we swap, it throws us off a bit – we can’t dig as deeply into the emotional parts of the scene because the material really is written for one person to sustain, beginning to end. That said, we like it for exploration and gaining perspective. One person noted that it required her to focus more and “put more effort and intensity in” because she didn’t know how long she’d have in the scene – it raised the stakes. It let us work through the scene more quickly, which is a bonus in a group that has a large contingent of people who like working that way. And, when we made sure to check in with everyone, we found that even ensemble members who only watched gained a better understanding of the scene – so it seems we have a consensus that we want to keep this in our arsenal of approaches to the material. We also all agreed that we need to combine with this with a more traditional approach – the same people doing the scene all the way through.

Most people in the group would like to begin casting the play in the second week of December, and it seems like, especially with this new way of working, we will have the understanding of the play and the comfort with each other to do that work “on schedule.” It’s a good feeling for all of us.

Session Five: Week 10

Tuesday

We began tonight with a brief discussion of the end of Act IV Scene II, in which Iago enlists Roderigo to kill Cassio. We are still divided on what motivates Roderigo to do what Iago tells him to do – why he gets sucked back in every time he tries to pull out. This is really going to come down to whichever ensemble member plays Roderigo – I doubt we’re ever all going to agree!

We then read Act IV Scene III, the scene between Emilia and Desdemona as the latter prepares for bed. “What is this scene about?” I asked the group. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, is giving me anxiety,” said one ensemble member.

We all agreed that Desdemona has some sense in this scene of what is about to happen to her – whether she fully realizes that she is about to die was a point of debate, but we all agreed that she knows something bad is about to occur. “She’s resigned,” said one woman, “She’s not even fighting anymore.”

Why does she stay? “She loves Othello so much and is so loyal. She’d rather stay than go. She’s more willing to die because he thinks of her this way,” suggested one person. We picked apart Desdemona’s final line in the scene – “Heaven me such uses send, / Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend.” Again we were divided: is she saying that she can somehow mend the rift between her and her husband, or is she saying that killing her is what’s going to “fix” Othello? Several of us pondered where Desdemona would even go if she did leave – her father is dead (although that isn’t mentioned until the last scene, there is an enormous rift, regardless), she’s never been on her own, she’s quite young, and she’s quite dependent. She really has no options.

What is Emilia doing in this scene? We know she’s trying to make Desdemona feel better. We’re still debating how much she knows of what’s really going on with Othello. We also debated her monologue toward the end of the scene about what motivates women to cheat on their husbands, and whether they are justified. Some of us think she’s fishing to see if there is any chance that Desdemona was unfaithful. Some of us think she’s trying to lighten the mood. Others believe that she’s venting that even if Desdemona had cheated, it wouldn’t be a reason to abuse her – and some of us think that, in a way, Emilia is talking about herself.

We then read and discussed Act V Scene I, in which Roderigo and Cassio fight, and Iago kills Roderigo. We talked about the chaos of the scene – the darkness in which it takes place, and about Iago’s actions more than anyone else’s. “Oh, he’s awesome in this scene,” said one woman, speaking of the way in which he handles a result he didn’t anticipate – killing Roderigo and casting suspicion for Cassio’s injury on Bianca.

And what about that murder? “Well, he kinda had to kill Roderigo,” said one woman, noting that if Roderigo lived he would almost certainly expose the whole plot. “The tension and desperation are coming to a head, you guys,” said another. “Do you realize this is the first time Iago’s actually doing his own dirty work?”

It was an invigorating conversation. Despite the heaviness of the material and its parallels to some of the women’s own lives, we are approaching it (at this point, anyway) in a way that is more intellectual than emotional, and it’s enabling us to have a lot of fun. We are really enjoying delving in and analyzing it. It’s a great foundation to have for when we get up on our feet with it… which will be soon!

Friday

After our check in, we dove into Act V Scene II, which is long, intense, and ends the play.

After reading Othello’s first monologue, we paused to talk about his mental/emotional state. Some hear a belief that he’s saving Desdemona, others think it’s really all about him. He sounds spent and exhausted. He seems to believe he’s so far in that there’s no going back. “The language here is flowery. It’s like she fell from grace,” said one woman. “Maybe he’s not just talking about putting out her light,” said another. “She’s the light of his life, and he’s also extinguishing that – his own light.”

We then read through the section that ends with Desdemona’s smothering. “Man, he didn’t even let her talk,” said one woman when we paused. “I’ve been Desdemona, felt those hands around my throat – when they’re at that point, there’s no stopping them,” one woman shared.

I thanked her for sharing something so personal, and then there was a brief silence. “What does the language tell us about the scene?” I asked. It’s fast, disjointed, chaotic, and fragmented, various women suggested. “The thing is,” I said, “She does get some language out, even though she’s constantly interrupted. What’s going on here?”

“Mentally he’s not there anymore,” said one woman. “He’s there, but he’s not there. After he smothers her, he may come back. I call it ‘zoning out.’ You can do a lot of things when you zone out. And then you come back.”

“What would have happened if he delayed for a half hour, like she asks him to?” asked Kyle. “Maybe he wants to do it quick because he feels like he needs to do it,” said one woman. “If he gives it the time, he might not act,” added another. “He thinks she’s still lying,” said another member, “and it makes him angrier.”

We finished reading the scene. I asked the group how they felt about Othello’s final speeches. “He fell into a trap. And it could happen to the best of us,” said one woman. “It does happen to the best of us – we’re all here, aren’t we?” responded another, “But we’re still responsible for our actions. I can feel grief for him, but I’m still pissed at him.”

“I can’t feel sorry for him,” said another woman. “He could have chosen differently at so many points, or investigated more. He had more than one opportunity.”

“I don’t feel sorry for him, but I definitely empathize with him,” said another member. “Can we have empathy for Othello without feeling sorry for him?” I asked the group. “What does that mean, empathy?”

“It means you can put yourself in that person’s position,” said one woman. “It means you can see their perspective.”

“I feel like, being in prison, we’re experts in empathy,” said another. “We all have empathy for each other, for everyone here, just about.”

One woman said that she was fascinated by the idea that “women undid both of these men.” “Did they?” responded Kyle. “Both of these men killed their wives.” We talked more and concluded that, if we refine this idea, we can see that the true crux is a lack of understanding that Othello and Iago have of women – that they turn out to have the same weakness in the end.

Why does Iago, who talks and talks and talks throughout the play, go silent when asked to explain himself? Especially given Shakespeare’s propensity to give his “villains” a last speech to clarify their motives or express a longing for redemption. We thought about that. “Does Iago get what he wanted?” asked Kyle.

“Totally – he got people’s lives ruined, so he got what he wanted,” said one woman. “He didn’t want his own life ruined, though. He has no power in the end. Nothing good came out of this for him. He’s no better than Othello in peoples’ minds, and he cares a lot about what other people think of him,” another responded.

“I think he wanted to be Othello. So no,” said another woman. “He hurt a lot of people… He’s in the balance somewhere,” said another.

We were out of time then, but we are very excited to start to explore these scenes on their feet. Many people are eager to read for different characters, and this is where we’ll begin to think about where people fit in terms of casting, even as we continue to explore the play’s themes.

Session Five: Week 9

Friday

Written by Kyle

Today was my first session back after having been out of town. The ensemble members were all quick to ask about the trip, eager to hear about what I had done, and just about everyone welcomed me back.

After a warm-up and some theatre games, the group had a discussion about where we thought we might set our production of Othello. We wanted to get an idea of what was on their minds so we could take advantage of the post-Halloween sales and get some costumes if at all possible. The discussion was slow to start but, like most discussions with our group, became involved and impassioned once we got going. The conversation at first was focused on the possibilities prompted by the question: what could be? Everything from cavemen, Scotland, in a prison, disco and outer space were suggested, and we were having fun linking Othello’s characters into a Star Wars parody.

Then the conversation evolved into more about what should be? What is the story that we are trying to tell? What is a better demonstration of Shakespeare’s timelessness: our ability to set his text in any time period, or the ability of the audience to relate to an Elizabethan text set in the period assigned by Shakespeare? It’s a toss up, and certainly a conversation that the professional theatre has had for years. I noted that keeping it in period can be difficult to source authentic looking costumes and props; whereas updating can be difficult because things like sword fighting and monarchies have a difficult translation in a more modern era.

However, a gauntlet was thrown early, with one of the newer ensemble members stating very directly that she thought that updating the setting “took the focus off the story… [keeping it as is] simplifies the message and we shouldn’t mess with it.” Many agreed, and it seemed like it was almost unanimous. I brought up that we could make our own world and set it in the world of ‘our play,’ and not set it anywhere specific. We could make up our own world, or keep it nondescript.

Many found this interesting, although we didn’t discuss it too long before moving on to the last stage of any conceptual consideration: what can we realistically do? It was kind of amazing the shape that the discussion took. Very similar to how I would approach it myself with any other production I’ve directed. The point was raised that we should think about who our audience was going to be and what would be the most effective for them; furthermore, consideration should be given to what would most likely be approved to by the facility’s administration. All these were valid concerns and foundational to the creation of a conceptual framework for our piece.

I concluded by saying that no decision needed to be made right then and there, that we needed to decide what story we wanted to tell before we could really decide just how it would be told. I am always impressed, though, by how deliberately the group wrestles with the questions of what makes art, and just how in step the ensemble is with my own process.

We only read one scene tonight, Act IV Scene ii; granted, it is longer scene, but it prompted such a rich debate that we couldn’t move on. Although Othello’s words towards Desdemona were powerful, the first discussion centered on Emilia and whether she knows Iago’s plan or not. Why would she be complicit with his plan if she does? Why would she give him the handkerchief? What about Iago’s emotional manipulation of her? Many said they were married to or had been involved with a man like Iago, and that many of Iago’s lines were not very nice until she gave him the handkerchief, when he showered her with praise. This kind of deliberate withholding of praise and affection was a potent dynamic in many of the ensemble’s past relationships, and many said they could understand her wanting to make him happy despite it betraying her own values.

As usual, though, the conversation was clouded by the impending murder: was Othello insane at this point? Had he reached his breaking point? Had he turned a corner from which he could not return? The quote that stuck out to me was, “We didn’t get here by being saints. How many of us are here from a 10-second crime?” Is he going to be defined by that decision? Someone brought up that after Othello’s seizure, he had passed a point of no return. I asked what the last sane decision that we saw Othello make might be. One member responded that the promotion of Iago to his lieutenant was the last decision he made, and that every decision since has been made for him.

The same ensemble member refuted herself, though, and brought up that the murder is premeditated. He is thinking about it, talking about it, and going to do it. There is no way around the fact that he kills Desdemona, that he kills her intentionally, and that he’s guilty. This was a very resonant remark, and one that just about everyone in the ensemble seemed to weigh in on. Is he a bad person, then? Many said that it a show of remorse means that Othello is not a bad person; some said that one’s previous actions are not what define them, people can change, etc.

I asked if we could extend the same redemption to Iago. What was Iago’s breaking point? When did he stop making decisions? Can he change with the right intentions? One woman said that Iago was the person in the play with whom she identified most. “Maybe I’m more evil than everyone else here, but I used to do this kind of stuff.” She went on to say that she thought she could change and was working on it. We could have talked all night. We sped through the last little part of the scene just for the sake of finishing; I for one felt, and hope, that we are far from finished with the discussion.