This...is good.

"What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility - a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world..."

~Barack Obama, 20th January, 2009~

Suzuki Actors Training Method - SATM

Last year I started training in this particular actor training method, pioneered by the Japanese theatre maker / director, Tadashi Suzuki.

I shall publish an essay I've written at the end - not for criticism, but just because at the moment it's the most convenient article I have to hand which helps to describe just a little what the training method teaches - at least, what it teaches in a short space of time. Like all good training, it is most ideally practiced over a longer period of time.

To the novice trainee, the first thing that can be universally agreed upon is that this training initially feels like the most alien, confusing and challenging system ever. It's arduous to begin with and all the time, during practice, the actor has to push himself through boundaries of pain and confusion and chaos that will shake him - and it's the easiest thing in the world to throw your pole down in a hissy fit and refuse to engage in this seemingly far Eastern torture practice! I’ve seen my peers reject the training which is a shame as it’s a form of training which reveals itself to the practitioner in stages. The rewards are immense.

There is not to my knowledge a plethora of practitioners trained to a high enough standard to be allowed to teach this method (certainly not as "endorsed" trainers) and I think it's fair to say that for those of us who have been taught, it is a huge honour. Not only that, it is our duty to experience as many diverse forms of performance practice and training as we possibly can. We should never stop learning and we should never miss the opportunity to try new things and to sample the delights that other cultures can offer us.

If I hadn't stuck with the programme then I wouldn't have experienced a training method which gets under your skin and stays there. It's an incredible feeling. I've become conscious all the time now of how I am moving my body, where my physical centre is and most interestingly I am now as aware of my lower half as I used to be of my upper half -and this is of extreme benefit to me. One thing I've really been able to work on is my shoulders - I've got a tendency to put a lot of tension into my shoulders, particularly when I put myself under stress, like in a performance situation. It's something I am trying hard to eliminate, especially through the training. It's also amazing to feel so much through your feet, which is what the training emphasises. When I'm out and about I keep walking over all sorts of different textures, just because I have become so fascinated by the sensation that pushing down through the feet, and ultimately back up through the rest of your body feels like. It's like an awakening! I keep dropping into neutral position and from there I move through different positions, letting my physical centre move off, with me following. It's so profound. Parallel to the physical training is a very powerful spiritual aspect in which the actor embarks on a journey unique to him, his capabilities, constraints and application. This training does not favour just the elite athlete to the exclusion of all others because it is so personal to the individual. You are simply asked to work with what you have got but to try your hardest. This pays dividends. I found the training to be meditative. As I embarked on the journey I discovered something quite beautiful amidst all the chaos of high energy and intense concentration: absolute calm, in the complete stillness you are implored to create. It sounds contradictory. Hopefully the essay will help explain. It may help you to understand some of the principles behind this training and it might help explain how East meeting West is useful.

Suzuki Actors Training Method

If anthropology is the study of cross-cultural human behaviour then Theatre Anthropology is not entirely dissimilar, concentrating instead on cross-cultural and cross boundary performance behaviours, looking not for the differences between cultures but the similarities and shared practices that one performer may share with another, despite the differences that they may have in their cultural backgrounds. The Italian director and theorist Eugenio Barba has long looked to other cultures to develop his complex theoretical models with which he has analysed performance behaviour, particularly when engaged in his famous “barters”, exchanging performance and songs with other communities. Through such observations, and as a result of research conducted through the International School of Theatre Anthropology (ISTA) Barba has drawn together a range of disciplines from a diverse cultural background, from the East to the West, to demonstrate the principles that the respective disciplines share. One such finding was the state that performers all appear to have in common, regardless of their backgrounds, before and during a performance which Barba calls the pre-expressive principles - a way of moving which he says is different from that employed in everyday routine:

“In an organised performance the performers physical and vocal presence is modelled according to principles which are different from those of daily life” (Barba, 1995, p9)

In some cases this state of awareness may not be conscious or deeply codified - something particularly obvious when comparing some Western (or Occidental) practice with its Oriental counterparts where performance codification and training is far stricter and the performer inherits physical and mental traits from an earlier age than most Occidental performers. Partly due to the training ethos, where the Occidental performer may train in many disciplines and the Oriental only the one, Barba never the less drew attention to the similarities and recurring principles, although preferring to focus less on the cultural and geographic divisions. Instead he would “turn the compass around and use it in an imaginary way, speaking of a North and South Pole” (Barba, 1995 p13) for he recognised that differences in technique are not purely cultural and geographic. Speaking of the formation of ISTA, Barba says (1999, p. 89):

“It was conceived and organised as a situation offering an optimum of exchange of experience: Eastern/Western, older generation/younger generation, traditional theatre/group theatre, practitioner/theoretician."

Speaking of “North Pole performers” - those from a strictly codified training, exemplified by dancers, mimes and Oriental practitioners, Barba says that to the observer they possess a compelling energy, no matter whether they are engaged in a technical demonstration or full performance. He says that “the body is used in a substantially different way in daily life than in performance situations” (Barba, 1995, p15.) Therefore, he describes a “daily technique” (in Indian, the “Lokadharmi”) and “extra-daily technique”, (or “Natyadharmi”, from the Indian meaning “Behaviour in Dance”) in which arguably the “South Pole performer,” not following a strict codified technique will employ “daily techniques” - the pedestrian movements we associate with ordinariness and general living whereby the “maximum result with minimum expenditure of energy” is achieved, in contrast to the opposite - extra-daily technique - in which the performer seeks “the maximum commitment of energy for a minimal result” (Barba, 1995, p16.)

Mindful that it can be difficult for performers from these culturally diverse groups to accept their differences, Barba is keen to promote the points where there is a unification of ideals and where both “poles” can draw from the other at the point where they converge into the common pre-expressive state.

Regardless of whether it is pedestrian, or highly stylised, every performer will rely on balance in the practice of their craft. Whether still or highly mobile, the performer is constantly shifting his centre of balance, even from simply standing still to following the more complex choreography of the Oriental dancer who displaces balance with every step taken. The performer should be aware of his body’s position and centre of gravity at any time when on stage, utilising mental as well as physical processes in order to maintain full, extra daily control of his centre of balance. An actor or performer with a high physical centre experiences difficulties throughout his body, increasingly becoming tense and lacking strength, manifesting itself as Clive Barker (1977, p34-35) describes:

“A general stiffness of movement and a tightening of the voice, with a corresponding rise in pitch or tone as the neck tension forces the larynx to rise against the vertebrae of the top spine”

This awareness forms the first principle of the pre-expressive state - Balance in Action. Second to this is what Barba calls the Dance of Oppositions. In this the actor is instructed to become aware of the opposing forces at work when performing, and for it to be more than just an awareness of the mechanical nature of balance. If the floor is a lever to the actor who balances, then other forces operate too - there is a force downwards and the force upwards. This energy pushes, as it pulls. Forward momentum is not merely achieved by the shifting of balance forwards - it is a resistance to oppositions, pushing against the front and pulling against the backwards forces. The third component of a pre-expressive state is the Virtue of Omission. This is a condition in which the actor exhibits maximum effort and potential for what might be a minimal result. This is achieved through a combination of the dance of oppositions and balance and according to Barba (1995, p.28) it is a simplification of daily technique:

“Simplification in this case means the omission of certain elements in order to put other elements into relief, thus making these other elements seem essential.”

Despite the political correctness of referring to North and South poles it is difficult to escape from the fact that this distinction essentially refers to an East and West divide, where it would be easy to accept the inherent differences of the two cultures - the mastery of technique of the Eastern practitioner compared to the open-minded but technically deficient attitudes (in contrast) of the Western performer. If, however, we explore, (as Barba implores us to) the theatrical traditions of other cultures then a healthy and progressive exchange of ideas can occur. One method that can inform the aforementioned pre-expressive state within a performer can certainly be found within the challenging, but ultimately rewarding, training system, which draws on elements of Noh and Kabuki, called the “Suzuki Actors Training Method”. Developed by the acclaimed Japanese director Suzuki Tadashi (note that Japanese convention requires the surname to be cited first) the actor engages in a number of exercises that are specifically aimed to subvert his sense of balance, teaching that a minimum of output is achieved from the maximum of effort. At the core of the training lie two fundamental elements - the stomp, and stillness. The actor expends maximum speed to achieve maximum stillness, developing a relationship with his physical centre through his feet, and on through to the earth beneath. Quite physically demanding, the range of exercises purposefully challenges the actor’s personal discipline, requiring of him maximum concentration whilst he struggles to control the chaos and stillness he subjects himself to. An experienced practitioner of the method will develop a vocal and physical presence, combined with superb breath control. He will ultimately develop a sustained pre-expressive awareness by overcoming a series of self-imposed obstacles.

“Exercises are similar to amulets which the actor wears, not in order to show them off, but to draw from them a special quality of energy from which a second nervous system gradually develops. An exercise is made up of memory: body memory. “ (Barba, 1999, p. 93)

Four basic exercises are usually the first to be taught. The actor should take command of his own physical warm-up before a session commences and he should wear loose trousers or shorts. For footwear either traditional Japanese tabi or ordinary socks should be worn as opposed to bare feet. These are necessary for the series of sliding walks that comprises part of the exercise regime. Basic exercises are tough for the beginner but they do serve to instruct the fundamental concepts of the training - centring, stamping and the use and control of the body within space.
Each basic exercise is commenced from a neutral position, with only the feet changing position slightly where required. The student will stand with feet and legs together before pushing down through the thighs into the floor, bending the knees slightly. The upper half of his body should remain relaxed but upright and a viewpoint forwards is adopted which should maintain eye contact with the real or imaginary audience, rather than over or under. Arms are held to the sides as if gripping imaginary poles parallel to the floor. The actor should push through his feet to find a stable platform on the floor. Already it becomes apparent that even through this alert state the actor is demonstrating pre-expressive principles -

“The actors stillness is really a state of highly energised “restrained motion”. Two equal energies - one driving forward, one restraining - are balancing out. In this sort of theatre, any series of movements is a balancing act between a force which drives forward and a force which holds back” (Carruthers & Takahashi, 2007, p.80)

For Basic Number One (Ashi o Horu, Throwing Feet) the actor stands with his feet at forty-five degree angles. He raises his right foot on the diagonal and stamps to the right. A shifting of his centre of gravity to the right, which leads the fall and stamp, should precede the stamp. The stamp should be forceful and energised and his left leg should straighten. His weight should be over his right leg, which can be tested by lifting his left leg - there should be no additional travel. The novice will find this test useful and he should be prepared to realign himself until he can perform the weight transfer correctly. His left foot now slides towards his right without causing the centre to rise. From here the actors drops fast to a squatting position, remaining perfectly still at the bottom. His back should be erect, before returning slowly to a standing position, pushing through the floor in a controlled manner and remaining aware of the position of the centre. The exercise is repeated to the left.

In contrast to this exercise, Basic Number Two introduces a marching element to the routine. From the neutral position (this time with feet parallel) the actor sweeps his right foot up swiftly to show the sole of his foot. The bent knee is drawn back into the body and the foot is flexed up. The actor may struggle to control his balance. This is perfectly normal. He then stamps his foot down and slides it forwards until his left leg is straight. The centre of balance should be over the right leg. From this position the actor pushes up onto tiptoes, straightening his legs. The procedure is then repeated on the left leg, with the actor returning to bent knees and proceeding forwards in a march.

Arm positions and vocal exercises will be added to the basic exercises, sometimes empty handed and sometimes with the addition of a wooden pole, creating a challenging environment in which the actor must retain his centre of balance, control his breathing and recite passages of speech in either a full, normal or whispering voice. When using voice the emphasis is placed on the actor discovering, as Paul Allain describes, (2002, p.128)

“What he is searching for is a possession-like state and a non-daily use of language that he (Suzuki) defines as “utterance”

The text will be arbitrary to the exercise itself.

Further to the basic four, of which only two are described here, are a series of sliding walks and statue exercises - and the infamous stomping march. In this the actors perform a basic stomp in time to rhythmic music for three minutes. In silence they embark on a mentally and physically demanding journey characterised by the stamp and momentary stillness. With no sudden turns of direction the actor travels throughout the space in small increments, culminating in all actors gathering to the back of the space. Having collected energy in their physical centres the actor’s collapse to the floor on cue. With a change of melody they rise slowly, facing the front. Holding their arms in a fixed position they glide forwards until they reach the audience, where the position is held for a moment of intensity.

It is important for the actor to embark on a personal voyage of discovery when performing these exercises. The emphasis is not on achieving perfect technique but in experiencing the process to create an internal awareness of the body and the forces in play, retaining the sense of pre-expressive qualities throughout. For example, when performing a slow walk, called Slow Ten Tekka Ten, as well as performing the technical aspects of the exercise, in which the room is crossed slowly, with the feet barely lifting from the floor, pointing forwards, and the centre of balance is perceived to be in a forwards momentum at all times, when the space is traversed and the actor turns, towards the audience before repeating the journey back; the actor maintains a pre-expressive awareness, even through the moments of stillness, which occur just slightly before one foot exchanges balance with the other. The actor imagines a rope pulls him across the stage, whilst restraining him from behind. He pushes into the floor and extends upwards - he performs the Dance of Opposition. Paul Allain (2002, p.110) describes the emphasis placed on balance:

“There are two difficult shifts of balance in the walk: first when the foot wants to rush to take the forward moving torso’s weight; and second, when the torso wants to stop as the weight falls solely onto the back leg. You have to resist and control the forward momentum and then the lack of it in order to maintain an even speed.”

The slow walk encapsulates Barba’s principles perfectly. Maximum effort is applied to achieve a minimal output. This must not be mistaken as a simple exercise for it takes great exertion to achieve these results.

Undoubtedly the Suzuki system can appear daunting to begin with. Although highly stylised it is not practiced with the view of converting the Western actor to emulate an Eastern aesthetic. With practice the actor will retain a body memory of the principles being taught, which in turn will provide him with a command of a pre-expressive technique. Ultimately, he will learn to perform from the feet upwards, and not, as can be a malady of the untrained actor, just from the head up.

Bibliography
Allain, P. (2002) The Art of Stillness, The Theatre Practice of Tadashi Suzuki, Methuen, London.
Barba, E. (1995) The Paper Canoe, Routledge, London.
Barba, E. (1999) Theatre, Solitude, Craft, Revolt, Black Mountain Press, Aberystwyth.
Barker, C. (1989) Theatre Games, A New Approach to Drama Training, Methuen, London.
Carruthers, I. & Takahashi, Y. (2007) The Theatre of Suzuki Tadashi, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.

For further reference I would encourage you to look at the work of Oz Frank Theatre, based in Australia (through this link here: http://www.ozfrank.com/index.php?MMID=73 ) They practice this training and it informs their performance work. The result can be heavily stylised and less conventional than we might be used to. However, the thing to be aware of is how utterly compelling the OzFrank actors are, even in stillness. You can tell that they are working out from the centre, and they are applying pre-expressive techniques all the time - working with "Extra-Daily Energy".

Mr. Smith, 4065.

One of my biggest fears is not what I won't do with my life, but what I will not see. I'm not talking the small picture here - it's not that you won't see the Grand Canyon or Ayers Rock or The Great Wall of China or the Emperors New Clothes...all are opportunities to be exploited by personal endeavour, and a little chance, easily achievable by anyone, if they really desire it.

No. I think back and forth on this, and I am sure I am not alone. I think back 100 years and forwards another two. Take any old black and white picture and look beyond the collars and the caps and the weariness staring back from the unfocused faces and see the man, woman and child, caught at that precise moment, frozen. I wish I could hear their thoughts and see the neurons arcing in their brains. Maybe they are marvelling at the technology before them, capturing images which prior to had only been caught on canvas, painstakingly, slowly. Perhaps instead they have seen their first bi-plane, taking to where eagles had only once dared, or maybe they've heard of the remarkable telegraph, carrying their voices further than the wind once only could, and I wonder at what limit their imagination took them? Who amongst us can think we are at the pinnacle of our achievements? Can total annihilation be the only measure against which we can say we have reached our zenith? That that is it - there will be no more? Will we endure and evolve? Adapt and change - maybe even taking on board some of the lessons our ancestors - their ancestors - teach them, as their legacy? What won't I see? Can I even imagine it?

What would Arthur Smith, born 4065 make of our simple ways? Are we that simple? How sophisticated were we, Arthur? Cute in our naivity; dangerous in our self-belief, eh? You didn't bring me back from the dead, to rise like Lazarus, did you Arthur? You didn't share with me the secret of time travel or the elixir of life. I know, because I haven't been back to see myself, not yet, anyhow. No cloaked figure, with face concealed, (to save alarm) entered the hospital ward in '91, where my father lay dying, to administer a swift chop to his brain stem to remove the clot that was choking all but primitive life from him. I know you would have shown me what to do, Arthur.

That's all you have to share with me Arthur - give me your medicine bag and some simple instructions and I will perform the procedure. You'll check your records and concur that him living will not alter the course of our destiny. There won't be any Butterfly Effect and no harm will come to the yet unborn child, who will save us from the future tyrant, whose name we don't even know. All you need do is turn away and I'll hop onto the machine with your bag of tricks.

Arthur, if you're reading this, what else won't I ever see? Bring me back, Arthur. Let me see it all, please, Mr. Smith.

We Are Not YOU.

I had been Christmas shopping, a mighty marathon trip that took me to Peterborough then backtracking to Leicester, before finally home.

Leicester had a great vibe. It's a vibrant multi-cultural city, as this Wiki entry attests:

"Leicester has a large ethnic minority population, mainly from China, Hong Kong and the Indian subcontinent. There are many Hindu mandirs, Sikh gurudwaras and Muslim mosques around the city, mostly converted from existing buildings. The Jain Temple in Leicester is near the city centre (The Jain Centre). The area around Belgrave Road is known as the Golden Mile, and contains many Indian restaurants, jewellery shops, and other shops catering to the large Indian community in the neighbourhood. Many people travel to the area specifically for the restaurants, which serve authentic Indian cuisine. The annual Diwali celebrations are also held here and at the nearby Abbey Park, and are the biggest outside of India. There are also many of Afro-Caribbean descent (mainly from Antigua & Barbuda, Montserrat and Jamaica), the community being centred around Highfields to the south-east of the city centre, and Leicester plays host to the second largest Caribbean Carnival in the UK after Notting Hill. Since 2004, a large number of eastern Europeans and Africans have also moved here."

It was lovely, mingling in the market, with all the food smells wafting over. I was most surprised at one point to stumble across a small demonstration taking place. A small number of white people were standing by the clock tower holding placards which had just one message. One message only.

"We Are The English"

Some were draped in the flag of St. George. And that was it, more or less. They didn't seem to be canvassing for anything in particular and I didn't much care to ask what they were doing. It seemed provocative to me, given the location. When I got home, I googled around to see what it was all about. I found this:

"What is the purpose of the 'We Are The English' demo?The purpose of the demonstration is to gather some members of the Indigenous English community who reside in Leicester together, who all feel that they are being ignored by the authorities in Leicester and so want to make it known that we are here with a little show of hands and for me to post a protest letter addressed to the Leader of the Leicester City Council - Ross Willmot, at the Leicester City Council buildings. 5 or 10 years ago you would be hard pressed to find one English person to assert their Indigenous English identity in Leicester due to the sickening PC brain washing climate in which the English are demonised for doing so, but times are changing.
What will be the content of the protest letter?It will state that the indigenous English are here and have wishes, needs and sensitivities to be addressed, we don't wish to live in fear of asserting our identity and asking for our wishes and needs to be addressed any longer.A copy of the Test census 2007 form, in which you can tick a box for being ethnic English, will accompany this letter.(Ethnic English = indigenous English - English race.)
Where and when is the ‘WE WE ARE THE ENGLISH’ demo?Leicester’s City Centre Clock Tower, at 2pm on Sunday the 21st of December.at 4.00pm (Or sooner if all want to due to the cold English winter weather!) the demonstration will walk from the Clock Tower, up Gallowtree Gate, turning off at a right turn onto Belvoir St, proceeding up to stop at the New Walk Leicester City Council buildings where the demonstration ends."

I was disgusted, as an Englishman, that they felt they needed to do this. It wasn't a particularly articulate demonstration. They appeared self-conscious as they stood in the German market, which was selling pancakes and sausages, spicy and plain. They shuffled from foot to foot, obviously keeping it low key as an assertion of their democratic right to demonstrate and to appease the small police presence around the place.
I mused for a while on why I felt so much distaste for the event. Is this a true mark of my Englishness? For would I feel so chastened if it was any other ethnic group holding such a demonstration? Are we, the English, really under threat? Do we, the English, really need to reclaim our national identity? Personally speaking, I do not think so, one jot. I felt ashamed as I watched the cornucopia of nationalities pass by, looking quizzically at this display of English ethnicity.

How the irony wasn't lost on me when if I turned my head to the left I could see Asian families smiling with admiration, taking pictures of their children enjoying the fairground rides and if I turned my head to the right I saw my countrymen standing for their rights, imposing their Englishness, stood in the entrance to the festive German bier garden, drinking bier, shrouded in the cross of St. George, proclaiming "We are the English".

Of that, there was no doubt.