An Actor Prepares

The next day, Tortsov, the director, discusses their performances, beginning with what is positive because “[a]bove all look for what is fine in art and try to understand it” (12). Tortsov identifies the emotional moments in Kostya and Maria’s performances as “such successful moments, by themselves, [which] we can recognize as belonging to the art of living a part” (12). Kostya admits that he does not remember what he did in that moment. Tortsov tells the class that acting according to the subconscious can be very successful but it is not reliable and cannot always be recreated. Tortsov suggests that making conscious creative choices and living the part can lead to inspiration from the unconscious mind. Tortsov explains:

Our aim is not only to create the life of a human spirit, but also to ‘express it in a beautiful, artistic form.’ An actor is under the obligation to live his part inwardly, and then to give to his experience an external embodiment (15).

Kostya expresses excitement that his performance “was able to take a step, if only a small one, in that direction” (17), but Tortsov corrects him, asserting that his one moment of living the part occurred in a scene where the rest of the acting was forced. Without technique, relying on inspiration from the self-conscious means that there is nothing to draw upon when inspiration does not come.

The next day, Tortsov continues the discussion of their acting in the Othello scene. He tells Paul, Kostya’s scene partner, that despite some “interesting moments” (18), his acting was largely representational, or devoid of inner life. Paul insists that he prepared for the role by studying Iago’s inner life and that at moments he felt like he was living the part. Tortsov explains that in representational acting, living the role is preparation for performance and does not happen in performance itself. After living the role, the actor “reproduces that form through the aid of mechanically trained muscles” (18). But in “true art” (18), “you must live the part every moment that you are playing it, and every time. Each time it is recreated it must be lived afresh and incarnated afresh” (19).

Paul tells the class that he rehearsed in front of a mirror and Tortsov warns that using a mirror teaches the actor to focus on the outside, rather than the internal formation of a character. Watching his facial expressions led Paul to set his performance so he could perform mechanically, which is representational acting. Paul admits that he was attempting to copy the mannerisms of someone he knows, and whom he feels is similar to Iago. Tortsov explains that imitation “has nothing to do with creativeness” (21) and that the actor must “assimilate the model” (21) by learning everything about him and then create his own image of the character to become, rather than imitate. Their art calls for “natural emotions at the very moment in which they appear before you in the flesh. They call for the direct co-operation of nature itself” (23).

At the following meeting, Tortsov addresses Grisha Govorkov, another actor who insists that “he always feels very deeply what he does on the stage” (23). Tortsov explains that everyone who is alive feels something all the time. But Grisha’s acting was “mechanical” (23), which requires no “living process (24) and in which the actor pretends to feel emotion by imitating the external expressions of those emotions. Certain signs and symbols indicate certain emotions and are recognizable by an audience. These “theatrical emotions” (26) are incapable of moving an audience.

During the next class, Tortsov describes the work of one actor, Vanya Vyuntsov, as “the most repulsive kind of overacting” (26). Kostya interjects that at least his own performance did not have any moments of overacting, but Tortsov replies that it absolutely did. Tortsov calls out Kostya’s “exaggerated imitation of a savage, by means of the most amateurish kind of rubber stamps” (27). Without hard work and technique, an actor will always resort to exhibitionism. Because Othello is a black man, Kostya applied a well-known stereotype to the character that is recognizable to an audience but lacks the depth of a well-developed character.

Tortsov illuminates:

Whereas mechanical acting makes use of worked-out stencils to replace real feelings, over-acting takes the first general human conventions that come along and uses them without even sharpening or preparing them for the stage (29).

Tortsov advises his students to not only avoid the techniques he has criticized, but to also “never allow yourself externally to portray anything that you have not inwardly experienced and which is not even interesting to you” (29). The goal is to offer “artistic truth” (29). Tortsov goes on to criticize Sonya Veliaminova for committing the worst acting sin, “the exploitation of art” (30). Tortsov clarifies, “You showed us your little hands, your little feet, your whole person, because it could be seen better on the stage” (30), accusing Sonya of using the scene to display her beauty. Tortsov adds that many people become actors for the sake of fame or spectacle, to “capitalize their beauty and make careers” (31). He tells Sonya that she must decide whether she is in the theatre for exploitative reasons or “to serve art, and to make sacrifices for its sake” (31). Ultimately, “it is only in theory that we can divide art into categories” (31). In practice, actors tend to fluctuate between the different styles of acting. Viewing the exhibitionist acting, which Tortsov identifies as the worst variety of acting, is useful, as it shows actors what not to do. At the next class, they will begin working, and will include the addition of exercises to fine-tune their bodies and voices.

At the beginning of the next class, Tortsov calls a very nervous Maria to the stage. He tells her, “[L]et us do a little play. This is the plot. […] ‘The curtain goes up, and you are sitting on the stage. You are alone. You sit and sit and sit […] At last the curtain comes down again’” (33). When the class laughs, Tortsov replies, “My friends, you are in a schoolroom. And Maria is going through a most important moment in her artistic life. Try to learn when to laugh, and at what” (33).

Onstage, Maria is uncomfortable, fidgeting and fussing with her clothing and waiting for Tortsov to end the scene. Eager to try the exercise, Kostya asks to go next. He notes his impulse to entertain the audience and his self-consciousness, even though he is supposed to be doing nothing. Tortsov tells the class that they will come back to this exercise in order to learn how to simply sit onstage. Confused, the class asks, “Isn’t that what we have been doing?” (35). Tortsov tells them that they were “not simply sitting” (35) and demonstrates the exercise for them. Amazed by how captivated they are by Tortsov merely sitting on the stage, the class asks for his secret.

Tortsov explains, “Whatever happens on the stage must be for a purpose” (35). He tells Maria to come back onstage and try the exercise again with him. Again, she fidgets at first but then, watching Tortsov, begins to appear “life-like, natural” (36). Afterward, Maria is confused because she didn’t feel like she was acting. Tortsov explains that sitting with a purpose, even just the purpose of “waiting for something to happen” (37) is more interesting to watch than “showing yourself off” (36). It is not necessary to move around to have an inner life, and “frequently physical immobility is the direct result of inner intensity, and it is these inner activities that are far more important artistically” (37). Tortsov adds, “On the stage it is necessary to act, either outwardly or inwardly” (37).

At the next lesson, Tortsov gives Maria a set of circumstances. Her mother, suddenly unemployed, can no longer pay her drama school tuition. A friend offers an expensive brooch, which Maria decides she cannot take. On the way out, the friend pins the brooch on the curtain. Maria follows the friend into the hall, finally agreeing to accept the gift, but returns and cannot find it. Maria is to search for the brooch and then find it. Maria does so, enacting an emotional display. Afterward, she is proud but Tortsov points out that she forgot to find the brooch. He sends her back onstage to search, stressing that finding the brooch is the difference between staying in school and being forced to leave. She searches again, despairing when she cannot find it. To Maria’s surprise, Tortsov tells her that her histrionics in the first search only got in the way of her task.

Tortsov sends then sends the students up onstage with the directive to “always act with a purpose” (40). Kostya feels lost, trying to act like Othello. Finally, Tortsov stops them and points out that one cannot express emotion for no reason. He stresses, “On the stage there cannot be, under any circumstances, action which is directed immediately at the arousing of a feeling for its own sake” (41). Emotions are a response, not a goal. Vanya speaks up and suggests that props and furniture would be helpful, and Tortsov agrees. When the students arrive the next day, they find an elaborate apartment set. The actors have a difficult time restarting the exercise they began the day before, and Tortsov reminds them to find “inner motives that will result in simple physical acts” (42). Kostya asks for an activity, and Tortsov tells him to light a fire in the fireplace. When Kostya asks for matches, Tortsov points out that the fireplace is paper and that “to pretend to light a fire, pretended matches are sufficient” (43). An actor must be able to imagine that non-realistic props and design elements are real. Kostya “lights” the fire, then, out of nothing else to do, begins to move the furniture.

Tortsov observes that “if an action has no inner foundation, it cannot hold your attention” (43). One cannot simply move furniture, one must have a reason, such as arranging for dinner guests, in mind. Tortsov chides them, noting that a group of children would have imagined all sorts of scenarios to motivate themselves. Paul argues that they aren’t children and don’t have the innate urge to play. Tortsov explains that as artists, they need to ignite that urge in themselves, with or without an audience. Kostya complains that the mundane activities are too simple and quickly completed, so Tortsov suggests that they are in Maria’s apartment and that its previous tenant, who was committed for being “violently insane” (45), has escaped from the hospital and is at the door. Suddenly, the students have a motivation for their actions. Afterward, Tortsov teaches, “You have learned that all action in the theatre must have an inner justification, be logical, coherent and real. Second: if acts as a lever to lift us out of the world of actuality into the realm of imagination” (46).

At the next class meeting, Tortsov elaborates on the “various functions of if” (46). By asking what they would do if “there was a madman behind the door” (47), the actors did not have to believe that it was true. They were able to imagine how they would respond and act accordingly. The following day, Tortsov discusses using if when playing a role. He mentions a Chekhov story in which a farmer is arrested for unscrewing a nut from a railroad track to use as a sinker while fishing. While the situation may seem humorous to an audience, it would not seem so to those involved. Tortsov directs to actors to ask how they would respond if they were the farmer, and if they were the judge.

They discuss the case, Tortsov offering possible excuses for the defendant until Kostya begins to be convinced. Tortsov explains that to connect to the character, an actor should ascribe the character circumstances that are related to the actor’s experiences. The given circumstances of the play include those things that are explicitly stated by the text. Based on the given circumstances, the actor must use if to imagine potential circumstances that help to give the character depth and make the character relatable to the actor. The actor should focus on these circumstances, rather than emotion, and emotion will then become a byproduct. The next day, they practice this, performing actions within created circumstances. Tortsov announces that they have begun to go down “the right road” (53). They had tried to begin at the end, by showing emotions, but the process requires them to focus on inner conditions and allow emotions to follow naturally.

The next lesson takes place at Tortsov’s home, where he discusses the importance of imagination. He shows the students a series of set designs in which the designer imagined and reimagined a space in a variety of ways, emphasizing the difference between imagination, which is based on something that could happen, and fantasy, which involves fabricating things that cannot happen. He notes, “The dramatist is often a miser in commentary” (55), which means that the actor must fill in what the playwright does not explicitly state in order to create a well-rounded character.

The class is disturbed by a phone call from a famous actor, who entertains them with stories about his career. After the actor hangs up, Tortsov tells the students that the actor was embellishing the truth, but often an actor will find him or herself doing so, since so much of acting requires building upon the truth. Paul asks what an actor should do if he has no imagination, and the director informs him that he must “develop it, […] or else leave the theatre” (57). Tortsov tells the students that there are two types of imagination: one that works on its own and one that requires suggestions to begin working. An unresponsive imagination, however, is a problem. At home, Kostya attempts to arouse and investigate his own imagination, but to his dismay, he keeps falling asleep. The next day, Kostya tells Tortsov about his experiments, and Tortsov tells him that one cannot force imagination to work, and that his attempts failed because he didn’t focus on an “interesting subject” and that his “thoughts were passive. Activity in imagination is of utmost importance” (58).

They play an imagination game in which Kostya pretends he is drinking tea and then Tortsov asks how he would drink it differently if the cup were full of castor oil. Asking “what if” leads the actor to recall the sensations associated with drinking castor oil or touching a hot stove. He calls this the “magic if” (59). They play another game in which they imagine that it is a different time of day and walk through what they would do if it were that time. Tortsov explains, “This is merely one of countless examples of how you can use forces within you to change the material things about you” (60). Furthermore, the use of “if” does not require the actor to actually believe he is experiencing things he is not, since that would be nearly impossible. At the following lesson, Tortsov points out that they have been using “if” to imagine material realities. To demonstrate, he walks Kostya through an imagination exercise in which he enters his house and his room. Tortsov suggests that Kostya play Othello for himself in his imagined room. Kostya balks, asserting that he would only be able to associate with the work he had done for the performance of Othello he had given for the class. Tortsov urges Kostya to think about the objects in his room as inspiration, and Kostya remembers a hook in his closet that would be a good place to hang himself. But through the imagination game, he realizes that the hook isn’t high enough and won’t work after all. Kostya can’t imagine anything else and Tortsov suggests that this is because his narrative made no logical sense. It would be illogical to hang himself because he was doubting his acting skills, so his imagination rejected the idea.

However, this illustrates the need to be as detailed as possible when imagining the circumstances of a role. Tortsov tells the class that they can start out being a spectator in their imaginations, but eventually they “will tire of being an observer, and wish to act” (63), and “as an active participant in this imaginary life you will no longer see yourself, but only what surrounds you, and to this you will respond inwardly, because you are a real part of it” (63).

Tortsov informs the actors that while they are acting, they must have an understanding of “an inner chain of circumstances […] an unbroken series of images, something like a moving picture” (64). Where the director or playwright do not give them information, they must imagine it. While emotions are fleeting and impossible to take hold of, images can be remembered and recalled. Tortsov tells them that they will be working on creating “an imaginary moving picture” (65). First, he tells Paul that he will be a tree. When Paul admits that he doesn’t believe that he is a tree, Tortsov reminds him to tell himself, “I am I; but if I were an old oak, set in certain surrounding conditions, what would I do?” (65). He prods Paul to conjure specific, detailed images of the world around him. Next, Leo takes his turn and imagines that he is a “cottage in a garden in the Park,” which Kostya silently judges as “the most ordinary, uninspired choice” (65). Tortsov prompts to imagine the details of the world around him, but “obviously Leo was making no effort to arouse his own imagination” (66). 

Afterward, Kostya asks Tortsov how “such passive thinking” (66) could be useful. Tortsov tells him that the constant questioning forces the actor to practice clarifying the image in his head, and that “the more often he recalls it, the more deeply it will be printed in his memory, and the more deeply he will live into it” (66). If the actor’s imagination is “sluggish” (67), the director can make suggestions and help to add to the image in his mind. The continued practice will teach the actor to fight the “passivity and inertia of his imagination” (67).

At the next lesson, Tortsov brings Paul back up and asks him to recall his imagined tree persona from the day before. He tells Paul to consider the image and also the sounds he hears. Tortsov asks Paul questions, such as when the tree is living and why it is not surrounded by other trees. Since a tree can’t have an action, Tortsov asks Paul to define the tree’s purpose and significance. Tortsov states, “Generally speaking, this question–for what reason?–is extremely important” (68). Tortsov points out that Paul’s image of the tree and its life has become significantly richer and more detailed through his creation of given circumstances.

Tortsov directs, “You must find some single new circumstance that will move you emotionally and incite you to action” (69). Paul comes up empty, and Tortsov suggests that he think of something that makes him feel emotion in his own life. Paul replies that fights make him excited, so Tortsov tells him to imagine the tree in the midst of a battle. Paul becomes agitated because he can’t imagine how an inanimate tree can protect itself and Tortsov points out that his “excitement is sufficient” (69) even though the problem can’t be solved, proving that “even a passive theme can produce an inner stimulus and challenge to action” (69). In the following lesson, Tortsov discusses adding new circumstances to their imagined scenarios. He tells them that every detail must be imagined based on a strong foundation of given circumstances. But actors cannot always take a “conscious and reasoned approach to the imagination” (70), emphasizing that “[e]very movement you make on the stage, every word you speak, is the result of the right life of your imagination” (71).