As Tharp mentions in this chapter, “you double your intensity with skill”. I am going to talk about a set of skills that I have spent a better half of my young life honing… that being said, I think this could easily be applied to the beginnings of your new journey in creativity as much as an old vet (I am only 21, so how much do I know anyway?)
When I think of my skills as an artist, I like to use the metaphor of a tool kit. This is not an original metaphor by any means; and one of my favorite professors uses it vigorously. I believe he hammers it into us so we don’t get carried away with the glory and glamour of performing without knowing what techniques we use as the foundation of the performance.
I remember the laminated paper tool-kits that were in many of my elementary school classrooms, a screw driver labeled as “verb” a measuring tape labeled as “adjective” and so on.
This isn’t far off from how I see it now:
a hammer labeled “preceding line”
a saw labeled “subdividing rhythms”
a level labeled “rhyme scheme”
a drill labeled “raise/lower larynx”
Throughout college I have collected a wide array of new tools and sharpened the beginner set that was already in my belt. And I have learned to use them with much success and consistency. And now I am learning to hide their traces… harder than it seems!
Imagine an actor at the Royal Shakespeare Company speaking in iambic pentameter; odd, clunky, and unnecessary! But the meaning of much of the speech lies within that “dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-dum”.
Or, imagine your favorite song sung with completely clean and accurate rhythms and clear diction (super over-annunciated words). There is an uneasy and unnatural feeling that comes from hearing a robotic like performance of a seemingly emotional piece of music, and yet clarity of lyric is important if the singer wants any meaning to come from the song.
I often have to check in with myself to make sure that my technique is not showing… these tools are meant to make way for truth and simplicity to take center stage, and should not steal the spotlight. This work keeps me in shape, and constantly forces me to reimagine the use of my tools.
I do all of the homework, all of the prep work (learn my lines, learn my music, set my objective and intentions, set the physicality of the character, build the world around me, establish relationships to each of the characters on and off-stage) just so I can throw it all away for the performance. People don’t come to the theatre to see a book report; people come to the theatre to see a story be told in the most authentic and/or entertaining way possible. The only people who would want to come and see me show off my knowledge and flash my shiny tool kit are my parents, bless their hearts.
As much as I want my tool kit to remain hidden from an audiences theatrical experience, I also take it out often to admire it’s variety and spot the holes in my collection. I think that pride, in small doses, can be healthy for the creative mind.
Acknowledge what you are capable of achieving with your beautiful skills, then it is back to the drawing board for more work.
The exercise that I loved from this chapter was “#25 Package Your Time”, because I have found that it is far too easy to become wrapped up with using one singular tool, or wrapped up in one singular project, that other important work slips by. No matter the weight of the project, your health, sanity and happiness are important and should not be sacrificed!
While I am not quite as precise of a planner as Tharp is, I do try to maintain a balance between tool-kit work and pure creative impulse; this prevents me from showing-off my technique and from going completely insane with my perfectionistic tendencies (important!!!).
What is the newest tool in your tool box? Which of your tools needs sharpening?
