The British Theatre Guide: The Text

School & Youth Theatre

The Text

It always seems to me incredible that many directors of school shows (and, for that matter, of amateur shows) will spend a lot of time on moves, set, costumes and most other aspects of the production, but ignore the text. It's as if they think, "Well, actors can read, so we'll leave the text to them".

Almost as bad are those who simply ask their actors to "put some expression into it". For God's sake, what does that mean? You think it doesn't happen? I can tell you: it does - and far too often.

No actor will ever give a decent performance if he does not understand the text of the play. That's obvious, surely? Of course it is, and that's why we get the sort of thinking I referred to in the first paragraph - the actor can read, so you can safely leave the text to him. Fine, if all you mean by read is decoding, translating the written symbols into spoken sounds. But reading - especially reading for performance - is much more than that.

Think of someone's name. Speak it aloud. Now say it as if you're really angry with the person. Now as if you find him/her hilariously funny. Now as if (s)he sickens you. Now as if you fancy him/her like hell.

Need I say more?

Alright, you say; sometimes we are under strong emotion and that alters the way we say something. Obviously. It's pretty clear when someone is very emotional, so there's no problem: if the actor can read, he can recognise that.

OK, now say this line aloud: Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. It's the first line of Keats' poem Ode to Autumn. Now try this one: Season of fogs and mellow fruitfulness. Is there a difference? Of course there is. But why? - after all, mist and fog are both water droplets suspended in the air. True, but a fog is unpleasant and a mist is romantic. Can you imagine Johnny Matthis singing, "I'm too foggy and too much in love"?

Words have associations, and these associations are what differentiate synonyms: you mean something different when you call someone a pig than you do if you call him a swine. Unless your actor is sensitive to these subtle differences, he can misinterpret a whole speech, even a whole character, and thus wreck a play.

But, you might say, although this is true, these differences are common currency. All of us who speak English as a native language instinctively recognise these subtleties. I actually doubt that. In a society increasingly dominated by images, the verbal sophistication of our kids (and we are talking school and youth theatre here) is quite poor. However I am willing to accept, for the sake of argument, that many will recognise these differences.

I don't like the name Esther. Not only that, I tend to feel antipathetic towards anyone called Esther and I know that I do show this to some extent when I mention or even meet someone of that name. It's a personal thing. The history of this antipathy is deeply personal. Years ago, when I was in business, I had a rival who used every means, fair or foul, to drive me out of business. She always reminded me of Esther Rantzen because of her looks. I really hated that woman, and found I couldn't watch Esther Rantzen on the TV because she reminded me of her. So intense was that feeling - and so unjust to poor Ms Rantzen who is a very worthy woman! - that I bridle even at the name Esther. Ridiculous? Of course it is, but it's human and not uncommon.

Transfer that sort of experience to the context of a play. Take the first conversation between Helena, Hermia and Lysander in A Midsummer Night's Dream: if you were playing Helena you would need to know the history of her relationship with Hermia (the schoolgirl friendship, her love for Demetrius, Demetrius' betrothal to Hermia, etc. etc. etc.) before you could play that scene and get all the undercurrents. "Of course," you may well reply "It's all in the text."

Aha! all in the text! It is, but not just in the facts of the story as we learn them. It's also in the words Helena uses, the rhythmn of her speech ... Yes, it is in the text, but it's not obvious on a superficial reading, and certainly not obvious on a simple decoding, and to tell the actress playing Helena to "put some expression" into her voice would be singularly unhelpful. The text needs to be studied, explored, analysed.

And it's not just in Shakespeare. Get hold of a copy of Shadow Play by Noël Coward (from Tonight at 8.30). At one point Simon Gayforth says, "Lotuses smell of pineapple". Coward gives us no indication of how the actor should say the line; he has to find out for himself. And the only way he's going to find out is to study the text, because that's all there is to help him.

Now a professional actor might well be able to be left to do that on his own - although all those I know welcome others' input - but you can't do that with kids. And you can't just tell them either; they need to experience it to be able to make the line realistic.

If you get the text wrong, the whole play goes wrong, no matter how good the set, costumes or props may be. Everything starts with the text!

In the next article we'll have a look at some exercises that will help your actors examine and understand the text, and so bring them to a more natural and therefore more realistic performance.